{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_23639/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_23639","id":"gutenberg_23639","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/23639","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Classics of Literature","Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Ethics -- Early works to 1800"],"text":"Produced by Paul Murray, Turgut Dincer and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                _BOHN'S CLASSICAL LIBRARY_\n\n                     PLUTARCH'S MORALS\n\n\n                    GEORGE BELL & SONS,\n            LONDON: YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN\n             NEW YORK: 66, FIFTH AVENUE, AND\n                BOMBAY: 53, ESILANADE ROAD\n               CAMBRIDGE: DEIGHTON, BELL & CO.\n\n\n                     PLUTARCH'S MORALS\n\n                       ETHICAL ESSAYS\n\n                         TRANSLATED\n\n                    WITH NOTES AND INDEX\n\n              BY ARTHUR RICHARD SHILLETO, M.A.\n\n      _Sometime Scholar of Trinity College, Cambridge,\n                  Translator of Pausanias._\n\n                       [Illustration]\n\n                           LONDON\n                     GEORGE BELL AND SONS\n                             1898\n\n     CHISWICK PRESS:--CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO., TOOKS COURT,\n                          CHANCERY LANE.\n\n   +------------------------------------------------------------+\n   | Transcriber's note: The original book uses often colons    |\n   | instead of semicolons. Spelling of proper names is         |\n   | different in different pages and some words occur in       |\n   | hyphemated and unhyphenated forms. These have not been     |\n   | changed. A couple of commas and periods have been added or |\n   | removed to improve the reading and only obvious spelling   |\n   | errors have been corrected.                                |\n   +------------------------------------------------------------+\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nPlutarch, who was born at Chaeronea in Boeotia, probably about A.D. 50,\nand was a contemporary of Tacitus and Pliny, has written two works still\nextant, the well-known _Lives_, and the less-known _Moralia_. The\n_Lives_ have often been translated, and have always been a popular work.\nGreat indeed was their power at the period of the French Revolution. The\n_Moralia_, on the other hand, consisting of various Essays on various\nsubjects (only twenty-six of which are directly ethical, though they\nhave given their name to the _Moralia_), are declared by Mr. Paley \"to\nbe practically almost unknown to most persons in Britain, even to those\nwho call themselves scholars.\"[1] _Habent etiam sua fata libelli._\n\nIn older days the _Moralia_ were more valued. Montaigne, who was a great\nlover of Plutarch, and who observes in one passage of his Essays that\n\"Plutarch and Seneca were the only two books of solid learning he\nseriously settled himself to read,\" quotes as much from the _Moralia_ as\nfrom the _Lives_. And in the seventeenth century I cannot but think the\n_Moralia_ were largely read at our Universities, at least at the\nUniversity of Cambridge. For, not to mention the wonderful way in which\nthe famous Jeremy Taylor has taken the cream of \"Conjugal Precepts\" in\nhis Sermon called \"The Marriage Ring,\" or the large and copious use he\nhas made in his \"Holy Living\" of three other Essays in this volume,\nnamely, those \"On Curiosity,\" \"On Restraining Anger,\" and \"On\nContentedness of Mind,\" proving conclusively what a storehouse he found\nthe _Moralia_, we have evidence that that most delightful poet, Robert\nHerrick, read the _Moralia_, too, when at Cambridge, so that one cannot\nbut think it was a work read in the University course generally in those\ndays. For in a letter to his uncle written from Cambridge, asking for\nbooks or money for books, he makes the following remark: \"How kind\nArcisilaus the philosopher was unto Apelles the painter, Plutark in his\nMorals will tell you.\"[2]\n\nIn 1882 the Reverend C. W. King, Senior Fellow of Trinity College,\nCambridge, translated the six \"Theosophical Essays\" of the _Moralia_,\nforming a volume in Bohn's Classical Library. The present volume\nconsists of the twenty-six \"Ethical Essays,\" which are, in my opinion,\nthe cream of the _Moralia_, and constitute a highly interesting series\nof treatises on what might be called \"The Ethics of the Hearth and\nHome.\" I have grouped these Essays in such a manner as to enable the\nreader to read together such as touch on the same or on kindred\nsubjects.\n\nAs is well known, the text of the _Moralia_ is very corrupt, and the\nreading very doubtful, in many places. In eight of the twenty-six Essays\nin this volume I have had the invaluable help of the text of Rudolf\nHercher; help so invaluable that one cannot but sadly regret that only\none volume of the _Moralia_ has yet appeared in the _Bibliotheca\nTeubneriana_. Wyttenbach's text and notes I have always used when\navailable, and when not so have fallen back upon Reiske. Reiske is\nalways ingenious, but too fond of correcting a text, and the criticism\nof him by Wyttenbach is perhaps substantially correct. \"In nullo\nauctore habitabat; vagabatur per omnes: nec apud quemquam tamdiu\ndivertebat, ut in paulo interiorem ejus consuetudinem se insinuaret.\" I\nhave also had constantly before me the Didot Edition of the _Moralia_,\nedited by Frederic Duebner.\n\nLet any reader who wishes to know more about Plutarch, consult the\narticle on Plutarch, in the Ninth Edition of the _Encyclopaedia\nBritannica_, by the well-known scholar F. A. Paley. He will also do well\nto read an Essay on Plutarch by R. W. Emerson, reprinted in Volume III.\nof the Bohn's Standard Library Edition of Emerson's Works, and Five\nLectures on Plutarch by the late Archbishop Trench, published by Messrs.\nMacmillan and Co. in 1874. All these contain much of interest, and will\nrepay perusal.\n\nIn conclusion, I hope this little volume will be the means of making\npopular some of the best thoughts of one of the most interesting and\nthoughtful of the ancients, who often seems indeed almost a modern.\n\n\n  Cambridge,\n    _March_, 1888.\n\n\n    [1] See article _Plutarch_, in _Encyclopaedia\n    Britannica_, Ninth Edition.\n\n    [2] Grosart's _Herrick_, vol. i. p. liii. See in this\n    volume, p. 180, and also note to p. 288. Richard Baxter\n    again is always quoting the _Moralia_.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n                                                             Page\n\nPREFACE.                                                      vii\n\n    I. ON EDUCATION                                             2\n   II. ON LOVE TO ONE'S OFFSPRING                              21\n  III. ON LOVE                                                 29\n   IV. CONJUGAL PRECEPTS                                       70\n    V. CONSOLATORY LETTER TO HIS WIFE                          85\n   VI. THAT VIRTUE MAY BE TAUGHT                               92\n  VII. ON VIRTUE AND VICE                                      95\n VIII. ON MORAL VIRTUE                                         98\n   IX. HOW ONE MAY BE AWARE OF ONE'S PROGRESS IN VIRTUE       118\n    X. WHETHER VICE IS SUFFICIENT TO CAUSE UNHAPPINESS        138\n   XI. WHETHER THE DISORDERS OF MIND OR BODY ARE WORSE        142\n  XII. ON ABUNDANCE OF FRIENDS                                145\n XIII. HOW ONE MAY DISCERN A FLATTERER FROM A FRIEND          153\n  XIV. HOW A MAN MAY BE BENEFITED BY HIS ENEMIES              201\n   XV. ON TALKATIVENESS                                       214\n  XVI. ON CURIOSITY                                           238\n XVII. ON SHYNESS                                             252\nXVIII. ON RESTRAINING ANGER                                   267\n  XIX. ON CONTENTEDNESS OF MIND                               289\n   XX. ON ENVY AND HATRED                                     312\n  XXI. HOW ONE CAN PRAISE ONESELF WITHOUT EXCITING ENVY       315\n XXII. ON THOSE WHO ARE PUNISHED BY THE DEITY LATE            331\nXXIII. AGAINST BORROWING MONEY                                365\n XXIV. WHETHER \"LIVE UNKNOWN\" BE A WISE PRECEPT               373\n  XXV. ON EXILE                                               378\n XXVI. ON FORTUNE                                             394\n\nINDEX                                                         401\n\n\n\n\nPLUTARCH'S MORALS.\n\nON EDUCATION.\n\n\nSec. I. Come let us consider what one might say on the education of free\nchildren, and by what training they would become good citizens.\n\nSec. II. It is perhaps best to begin with birth: I would therefore warn\nthose who desire to be fathers of notable sons, not to form connections\nwith any kind of women, such as courtesans or mistresses: for those who\neither on the father or mother's side are ill-born have the disgrace of\ntheir origin all their life long irretrievably present with them, and\noffer a ready handle to abuse and vituperation. So that the poet was\nwise, who said, \"Unless the foundation of a house be well laid, the\ndescendants must of necessity be unfortunate.\"[3] Good birth indeed\nbrings with it a store of assurance, which ought to be greatly valued by\nall who desire legitimate offspring. For the spirit of those who are a\nspurious and bastard breed is apt to be mean and abject: for as the poet\ntruly says, \"It makes a man even of noble spirit servile, when he is\nconscious of the ill fame of either his father or mother.\"[4] On the\nother hand the sons of illustrious parents are full of pride and\narrogance. As an instance of this it is recorded of Diophantus,[5] the\nson of Themistocles, that he often used to say to various people \"that\nhe could do what he pleased with the Athenian people, for what he wished\nhis mother wished, and what she wished Themistocles wished, and what\nThemistocles wished all the Athenians wished.\" All praise also ought we\nto bestow on the Lacedaemonians for their loftiness of soul in fining\ntheir king Archidamus for venturing to marry a small woman, for they\ncharged him with intending to furnish them not with kings but kinglets.\n\nSec. III. Next must we mention, what was not overlooked even by those who\nhandled this subject before us, that those who approach their wives for\nprocreation must do so either without having drunk any wine or at least\nvery little. For those children, that their parents begot in drink, are\nwont to be fond of wine and apt to turn out drunkards. And so Diogenes,\nseeing a youth out of his mind and crazy, said, \"Young man, your father\nwas drunk when he begot you.\" Let this hint serve as to procreation: now\nlet us discuss education.\n\nSec. IV. To speak generally, what we are wont to say about the arts and\nsciences is also true of moral excellence, for to its perfect\ndevelopment three things must meet together, natural ability, theory,\nand practice. By theory I mean training, and by practice working at\none's craft. Now the foundation must be laid in training, and practice\ngives facility, but perfection is attained only by the junction of all\nthree. For if any one of these elements be wanting, excellence must be\nso far deficient. For natural ability without training is blind: and\ntraining without natural ability is defective, and practice without both\nnatural ability and training is imperfect. For just as in farming the\nfirst requisite is good soil, next a good farmer, next good seed, so\nalso here: the soil corresponds to natural ability, the training to the\nfarmer, the seed to precepts and instruction. I should therefore\nmaintain stoutly that these three elements were found combined in the\nsouls of such universally famous men as Pythagoras, and Socrates, and\nPlato, and of all who have won undying fame. Happy at any rate and dear\nto the gods is he to whom any deity has vouchsafed all these elements!\nBut if anyone thinks that those who have not good natural ability cannot\nto some extent make up for the deficiencies of nature by right training\nand practice, let such a one know that he is very wide of the mark, if\nnot out of it altogether. For good natural parts are impaired by sloth;\nwhile inferior ability is mended by training: and while simple things\nescape the eyes of the careless, difficult things are reached by\npainstaking. The wonderful efficacy and power of long and continuous\nlabour you may see indeed every day in the world around you.[6] Thus\nwater continually dropping wears away rocks: and iron and steel are\nmoulded by the hands of the artificer: and chariot wheels bent by some\nstrain can never recover their original symmetry: and the crooked staves\nof actors can never be made straight. But by toil what is contrary to\nnature becomes stronger than even nature itself. And are these the only\nthings that teach the power of diligence? Not so: ten thousand things\nteach the same truth. A soil naturally good becomes by neglect barren,\nand the better its original condition, the worse its ultimate state if\nuncared for. On the other hand a soil exceedingly rough and sterile by\nbeing farmed well produces excellent crops. And what trees do not by\nneglect become gnarled and unfruitful, whereas by pruning they become\nfruitful and productive? And what constitution so good but it is marred\nand impaired by sloth, luxury, and too full habit? And what weak\nconstitution has not derived benefit from exercise and athletics? And\nwhat horses broken in young are not docile to their riders? while if\nthey are not broken in till late they become hard-mouthed and\nunmanageable. And why should we be surprised at similar cases, seeing\nthat we find many of the savagest animals docile and tame by training?\nRightly answered the Thessalian, who was asked who the mildest\nThessalians were, \"Those who have done with fighting.\"[7] But why pursue\nthe line of argument further? For the Greek name for moral virtue is\nonly habit: and if anyone defines moral virtues as habitual virtues, he\nwill not be beside the mark. But I will employ only one more\nillustration, and dwell no longer on this topic. Lycurgus, the\nLacedaemonian legislator, took two puppies of the same parents, and\nbrought them up in an entirely different way: the one he pampered and\ncosseted up, while he taught the other to hunt and be a retriever. Then\non one occasion, when the Lacedaemonians were convened in assembly, he\nsaid, \"Mighty, O Lacedaemonians, is the influence on moral excellence of\nhabit, and education, and training, and modes of life, as I will prove\nto you at once.\" So saying he produced the two puppies, and set before\nthem a platter and a hare: the one darted on the hare, while the other\nmade for the platter. And when the Lacedaemonians could not guess what\nhis meaning was, or with what intent he had produced the puppies, he\nsaid, \"These puppies are of the same parents, but by virtue of a\ndifferent bringing up the one is pampered, and the other a good hound.\"\nLet so much suffice for habit and modes of life.\n\nSec. V. The next point to discuss will be nutrition. In my opinion mothers\nought to nurse and suckle their own children. For they will bring them\nup with more sympathy and care, if they love them so intimately and, as\nthe proverb puts it, \"from their first growing their nails.\"[8] Whereas\nthe affection of wet or dry nurses is spurious and counterfeit, being\nmerely for pay. And nature itself teaches that mothers ought themselves\nto suckle and rear those they have given birth to. And for that purpose\nshe has supplied every female parent with milk. And providence has\nwisely provided women with two breasts, so that if they should bear\ntwins, they would have a breast for each. And besides this, as is\nnatural enough, they would feel more affection and love for their\nchildren by suckling them. For this supplying them with food is as it\nwere a tightener of love, for even the brute creation, if taken away\nfrom their young, pine away, as we constantly see. Mothers must\ntherefore, as I said, certainly try to suckle their own children: but if\nthey are unable to do so either through physical weakness (for this\ncontingency sometimes occurs), or in haste to have other children, they\nmust select wet and dry nurses with the greatest care, and not introduce\ninto their houses any kind of women. First and foremost they must be\nGreeks in their habits. For just as it is necessary immediately after\nbirth to shapen the limbs of children, so that they may grow straight\nand not crooked, so from the beginning must their habits be carefully\nattended to. For infancy is supple and easily moulded, and what\nchildren learn sinks deeply into their souls while they are young and\ntender, whereas everything hard is softened only with great difficulty.\nFor just as seals are impressed on soft wax, so instruction leaves its\npermanent mark on the minds of those still young. And divine Plato seems\nto me to give excellent advice to nurses not to tell their children any\nkind of fables, that their souls may not in the very dawn of existence\nbe full of folly or corruption.[9] Phocylides the poet also seems to\ngive admirable advice when he says, \"We must teach good habits while the\npupil is still a boy.\"\n\nSec.VI. Attention also must be given to this point, that the lads that are\nto wait upon and be with young people must be first and foremost of good\nmorals, and able to speak Greek distinctly and idiomatically, that they\nmay not by contact with foreigners of loose morals contract any of their\nviciousness. For as those who are fond of quoting proverbs say not\namiss, \"If you live with a lame man, you will learn to halt.\"[10]\n\nSec.VII. Next, when our boys are old enough to be put into the hands of\ntutors,[11] great care must be taken that we do not hand them over to\nslaves, or foreigners, or flighty persons. For what happens nowadays in\nmany cases is highly ridiculous: good slaves are made farmers, or\nsailors, or merchants, or stewards, or money-lenders; but if they find a\nwinebibbing, greedy, and utterly useless slave, to him parents commit\nthe charge of their sons, whereas the good tutor ought to be such a one\nas was Phoenix, the tutor of Achilles. The point also which I am now\ngoing to speak about is of the utmost importance. The schoolmasters we\nought to select for our boys should be of blameless life, of pure\ncharacter, and of great experience. For a good training is the source\nand root of gentlemanly behaviour. And just as farmers prop up their\ntrees, so good schoolmasters prop up the young by good advice and\nsuggestions, that they may become upright. How one must despise,\ntherefore, some fathers, who, whether from ignorance or inexperience,\nbefore putting the intended teachers to the test, commit their sons to\nthe charge of untried and untested men. If they act so through\ninexperience it is not so ridiculous; but it is to the remotest degree\nabsurd when, though perfectly aware of both the inexperience and\nworthlessness of some schoolmasters, they yet entrust their sons to\nthem; some overcome by flattery, others to gratify friends who solicit\ntheir favours; acting just as if anybody ill in body, passing over the\nexperienced physician, should, to gratify his friend, call him in, and\nso throw away his life; or as if to gratify one's friend one should\nreject the best pilot and choose him instead. Zeus and all the gods! can\nanyone bearing the sacred name of father put obliging a petitioner\nbefore obtaining the best education for his sons? Were they not then\nwise words that the time-honoured Socrates used to utter, and say that\nhe would proclaim, if he could, climbing up to the highest part of the\ncity, \"Men, what can you be thinking of, who move heaven and earth to\nmake money, while you bestow next to no attention on the sons you are\ngoing to leave that money to?\"[12] I would add to this that such fathers\nact very similarly to a person who should be very careful about his shoe\nbut care nothing about his foot. Many persons also are so niggardly\nabout their children, and indifferent to their interests, that for the\nsake of a paltry saving, they prefer worthless teachers for their\nchildren, practising a vile economy at the expense of their children's\nignorance. _Apropos_ of this, Aristippus on one occasion rebuked an\nempty-headed parent neatly and wittily. For being asked how much money a\nparent ought to pay for his son's education, he answered, \"A thousand\ndrachmae.\" And he replying, \"Hercules, what a price! I could buy a slave\nfor as much;\" Aristippus answered, \"You shall have two slaves then, your\nson and the slave you buy.\"[13] And is it not altogether strange that\nyou accustom your son to take his food in his right hand, and chide him\nif he offers his left, whereas you care very little about his hearing\ngood and sound discourses? I will tell you what happens to such\nadmirable fathers, when they have educated and brought up their sons so\nbadly: when the sons grow to man's estate, they disregard a sober and\nwell-ordered life, and rush headlong into disorderly and low vices; then\nat the last the parents are sorry they have neglected their education,\nbemoaning bitterly when it is too late their sons' debasement. For some\nof them keep flatterers and parasites in their retinue--an accursed set\nof wretches, the defilers and pest of youth; others keep mistresses and\ncommon prostitutes, wanton and costly; others waste their money in\neating; others come to grief through dice and revelling; some even go in\nfor bolder profligacy, being whoremongers and defilers of the marriage\nbed,[14] who would madly pursue their darling vice if it cost them their\nlives. Had they associated with some philosopher, they would not have\nlowered themselves by such practices, but would have remembered the\nprecept of Diogenes, whose advice sounds rather low, but is really of\nexcellent moral intent,[15] \"Go into a brothel, my lad, that you may see\nthe little difference between vice and virtue.\"\n\nSec. VIII. I say, then, to speak comprehensively (and I might be justly\nconsidered in so saying to speak as an oracle, not to be delivering a\nmere precept), that a good education and sound bringing-up is of the\nfirst and middle and last importance; and I declare it to be most\ninstrumental and conducive to virtue and happiness. For all other human\nblessings compared to this are petty and insignificant. For noble birth\nis a great honour, but it is an advantage from our forefathers. And\nwealth is valuable, but it is the acquisition of fortune, who has often\ntaken it away from those who had it, and brought it to those who little\nexpected it; and much wealth is a sort of mark for villanous slaves and\ninformers to shoot at to fill their own purses; and, what is a most\nimportant point, even the greatest villains have money sometimes. And\nglory is noble, but insecure. And beauty is highly desirable, but\nshortlived. And health is highly valuable, but soon impaired. And\nstrength is desirable, but illness or age soon made sad inroads into it.\nAnd generally speaking, if anyone prides himself on his bodily strength,\nlet him know that he is deficient in judgment. For how much inferior is\nthe strength of a man to that of animals, as elephants, bulls, and\nlions! But education is of all our advantages the only one immortal and\ndivine. And two of the most powerful agencies in man's nature are mind\nand reason. And mind governs reason, and reason obeys mind; and mind is\nirremovable by fortune, cannot be taken away by informers, cannot be\ndestroyed by disease, cannot have inroads made into it by old age. For\nthe mind alone flourishes in age; and while time takes away everything\nelse, it adds wisdom to old age. Even war, that sweeps away everything\nelse like a winter torrent, cannot take away education. And Stilpo, the\nMegarian, seems to me to have made a memorable answer when Demetrius\nenslaved Megara and rased it to the ground. On his asking whether Stilpo\nhad lost anything, he replied, \"Certainly not, for war can make no havoc\nof virtue.\" Corresponding and consonant to this is the answer of\nSocrates, who when asked, I think by Gorgias,[16] if he had any\nconception as to the happiness of the King of Persia, replied, \"I do not\nknow his position in regard to virtue and education: for happiness lies\nin these, and not in adventitious advantages.\"\n\nSec. IX. And as I advise parents to think nothing more important than the\neducation of their children, so I maintain that it must be a sound and\nhealthy education, and that our sons must be kept as far as possible\nfrom vulgar twaddle. For what pleases the vulgar displeases the wise. I\nam borne out by the lines of Euripides, \"Unskilled am I in the oratory\nthat pleases the mob; but amongst the few that are my equals I am\nreckoned rather wise. For those who are little thought of by the wise,\nseem to hit the taste of the vulgar.\"[17] And I have myself noticed\nthat those who practise to speak acceptably and to the gratification of\nthe masses promiscuously, for the most part become also profligate and\nlovers of pleasure in their lives. Naturally enough. For if in giving\npleasure to others they neglect the noble, they would be hardly likely\nto put the lofty and sound above a life of luxury and pleasure, and to\nprefer moderation to delights. Yet what better advice could we give our\nsons than to follow this? or to what could we better exhort them to\naccustom themselves? For perfection is only attained by neither speaking\nnor acting at random--as the proverb says, _Perfection is only attained\nby practice_.[18] Whereas extempore oratory is easy and facile, mere\nwindbag, having neither beginning nor end. And besides their other\nshortcomings extempore speakers fall into great disproportion and\nrepetition, whereas a well considered speech preserves its due\nproportions. It is recorded by tradition that Pericles, when called on\nby the people for a speech, frequently refused on the plea that he was\nunprepared. Similarly Demosthenes, his state-rival, when the Athenians\ncalled upon him for his advice, refused to give it, saying, \"I am not\nprepared.\" But this you will say, perhaps, is mere tradition without\nauthority. But in his speech against Midias he plainly sets forth the\nutility of preparation, for he says, \"I do not deny, men of Athens, that\nI have prepared this speech to the best of my ability: for I should have\nbeen a poor creature if, after suffering so much at his hands, and even\nstill suffering, I had neglected how to plead my case.\"[19] Not that I\nwould altogether reject extempore oratory, or its use in critical cases,\nbut it should be used only as one would take medicine.[20] Up, indeed,\nto man's estate I would have no extempore speaking, but when anyone's\npowers of speech are rooted and grounded, then, as emergencies call for\nit, I would allow his words to flow freely. For as those who have been\nfor a long time in fetters stumble if unloosed, not being able to walk\nfrom being long used to their fetters, so those who for a long time have\nused compression in their words, if they are suddenly called upon to\nspeak off-hand, retain the same character of expression. But to let mere\nlads speak extempore is to give rise to the acme of foolish talk. A\nwretched painter once showed Apelles, they say, a picture, and said, \"I\nhave just done it.\" Apelles replied, \"Without your telling me, I should\nknow it was painted quickly; I only wonder you haven't painted more such\nin the time.\" As then (for I now return from my digression), I advise to\navoid stilted and bombastic language, so again do I urge to avoid a\nfinical and petty style of speech; for tall talk is unpopular, and petty\nlanguage makes no impression. And as the body ought to be not only sound\nbut in good condition, so speech ought to be not only not feeble but\nvigorous. For a safe mediocrity is indeed praised, but a bold\nventuresomeness is also admired. I am also of the same opinion with\nregard to the disposition of the soul, which ought to be neither\naudacious nor timid and easily dejected: for the one ends in impudence\nand the other in servility; but to keep in all things the mean between\nextremes is artistic and proper. And, while I am still on this topic, I\nwish to give my opinion, that I regard a monotonous speech first as no\nsmall proof of want of taste, next as likely to generate disdain, and\ncertain not to please long. For to harp on one string is always tiresome\nand brings satiety; whereas variety is pleasant always whether to the\near or eye.\n\nSec. X. Next our freeborn lad ought to go in for a course of what is called\ngeneral knowledge, but a smattering of this will be sufficient, a taste\nas it were (for perfect knowledge of all subjects would be impossible);\nbut he must seriously cultivate philosophy. I borrow an illustration to\nshow my meaning: it is well to sail round many cities, but advantageous\nto live in the best. It was a witty remark of the philosopher Bion,[21]\nthat, as those suitors who could not seduce Penelope took up with her\nmaids as a _pis aller_, so those who cannot attain philosophy wear\nthemselves out in useless pursuits. Philosophy, therefore, ought to be\nregarded as the most important branch of study. For as regards the cure\nof the body, men have found two branches, medicine and exercise: the\nformer of which gives health, and the latter good condition of body; but\nphilosophy is the only cure for the maladies and disorders of the soul.\nFor with her as ruler and guide we can know what is honourable, what is\ndisgraceful; what is just, what unjust; generally speaking, what is to\nbe sought after, what to be avoided; how we ought to behave to the gods,\nto parents, to elders, to the laws, to foreigners, to rulers, to\nfriends, to women, to children, to slaves: viz., that we ought to\nworship the gods, honour parents, reverence elders, obey the laws,\nsubmit ourselves to rulers, love our friends, be chaste in our relations\nwith women, kind to our children, and not to treat our slaves badly;\nand, what is of the greatest importance, to be neither over elated in\nprosperity nor over depressed in adversity,[22] nor to be dissolute in\npleasures, nor fierce and brutish in anger. These I regard as the\nprincipal blessings that philosophy teaches. For to enjoy prosperity\nnobly shows a man; and to enjoy it without exciting envy shows a\nmoderate man; and to conquer the passions by reason argues a wise man;\nand it is not everybody who can keep his temper in control. And those\nwho can unite political ability with philosophy I regard as perfect men,\nfor I take them to attain two of the greatest blessings, serving the\nstate in a public capacity, and living the calm and tranquil life of\nphilosophy. For, as there are three kinds of life, the practical, the\ncontemplative, and the life of enjoyment, and of these three the one\ndevoted to enjoyment is a paltry and animal life, and the practical\nwithout philosophy an unlovely and harsh life, and the contemplative\nwithout the practical a useless life, so we must endeavour with all our\npower to combine public life with philosophy as far as circumstances\nwill permit. Such was the life led by Pericles, by Archytas of Tarentum,\nby Dion of Syracuse, by Epaminondas the Theban, one of whom was a\ndisciple of Plato (viz., Dion). And as to education, I do not know that\nI need dwell any more on it. But in addition to what I have said, it is\nuseful, if not necessary, not to neglect to procure old books, and to\nmake a collection of them, as is usual in agriculture. For the use of\nbooks is an instrument in education, and it is profitable in learning to\ngo to the fountain head.\n\nSec. XI. Exercise also ought not to be neglected, but we ought to send our\nboys to the master of the gymnasium to train them duly, partly with a\nview to carrying the body well, partly with a view to strength. For good\nhabit of body in boys is the foundation of a good old age. For as in\nfine weather we ought to lay up for winter, so in youth one ought to\nform good habits and live soberly so as to have a reserve stock of\nstrength for old age. Yet ought we to husband the exertions of the body,\nso as not to be wearied out by them and rendered unfit for study. For,\nas Plato says,[23] excessive sleep and fatigue are enemies to learning.\nBut why dwell on this? For I am in a hurry to pass to the most important\npoint. Our lads must be trained for warlike encounters, making\nthemselves efficient in hurling the javelin and darts, and in the chase.\nFor the possessions of those who are defeated in battle belong to the\nconquerors as booty of war; and war is not the place for delicately\nbrought up bodies: it is the spare warrior that makes the best\ncombatant, who as an athlete cuts his way through the ranks of the\nenemies. Supposing anyone objects: \"How so? As you undertook to give\nadvice on the education of freeborn children, do you now neglect the\npoor and plebeian ones, and give instructions only suitable to the\nrich?\" It is easy enough to meet such critics. I should prefer to make\nmy teaching general and suitable to all; but if any, through their\npoverty, shall be unable to follow up my precepts, let them blame\nfortune, and not the author of these hints. We must try with all our\nmight to procure the best education for the poor as well as the rich,\nbut if that is impossible, then we must put up with the practicable. I\ninserted those matters into my discourse here, that I might hereafter\nconfine myself to all that appertains to the right education of the\nyoung.\n\nSec. XII. And this I say that we ought to try to draw our boys to good\npursuits by entreaties and exhortation, but certainly not by blows or\nabusive language. For that seems to be more fitting for slaves than the\nfreeborn. For slaves try to shirk and avoid their work, partly because\nof the pain of blows, partly on account of being reviled. But praise or\ncensure are far more useful than abuse to the freeborn, praise pricking\nthem on to virtue, censure deterring them from vice. But one must\ncensure and praise alternately: when they are too saucy we must censure\nthem and make them ashamed of themselves, and again encourage them by\npraise, and imitate those nurses who, when their children sob, give them\nthe breast to comfort them. But we must not puff them up and make them\nconceited with excessive praise, for that will make them vain and give\nthemselves airs.\n\nSec. XIII. And I have ere now seen some fathers, whose excessive love for\ntheir children has turned into hatred. My meaning I will endeavour to\nmake clearer by illustration. While they are in too great a hurry to\nmake their sons take the lead in everything, they lay too much work upon\nthem, so that they faint under their tasks, and, being overburdened, are\ndisinclined for learning. For just as plants grow with moderate rain,\nbut are done for by too much rain, so the mind enlarges by a proper\namount of work, but by too much is unhinged. We must therefore give our\nboys remission from continuous labour, bearing in mind that all our life\nis divided into labour and rest; thus we find not only wakefulness but\nsleep, not only war but peace, not only foul weather but fine also, not\nonly working days but also festivals. And, to speak concisely, rest is\nthe sauce of labour. And we can see this not only in the case of\nanimate, but even inanimate things, for we make bows and lyres slack\nthat we may be able to stretch them. And generally the body is preserved\nby repletion and evacuation, and the soul by rest and work. We ought\nalso to censure some fathers who, after entrusting their sons to tutors\nand preceptors, neither see nor hear how the teaching is done. This is a\ngreat mistake. For they ought after a few days to test the progress of\ntheir sons, and not to base their hopes on the behaviour of a hireling;\nand the preceptors will take all the more pains with the boys, if they\nhave from time to time to give an account of their progress. Hence the\npropriety of that remark of the groom, that nothing fats the horse so\nmuch as the king's eye.[24] And especial attention, in my opinion, must\nbe paid to cultivating and exercising the memory of boys, for memory is,\nas it were, the storehouse of learning; and that was why they fabled\nMnemosyne to be the mother of the Muses, hinting and insinuating that\nnothing so generates and contributes to the growth of learning as\nmemory. And therefore the memory must be cultivated, whether boys have a\ngood one by nature, or a bad one. For we shall so add to natural good\nparts, and make up somewhat for natural deficiencies, so that the\ndeficient will be better than others, and the clever will outstrip\nthemselves. For good is that remark of Hesiod, \"If to a little you keep\nadding a little, and do so frequently, it will soon be a lot.\"[25] And\nlet not fathers forget, that thus cultivating the memory is not only\ngood for education, but is also a great aid in the business of life. For\nthe remembrance of past actions gives a good model how to deal wisely in\nfuture ones.\n\nSec. XIV. We must also keep our sons from filthy language. For, as\nDemocritus says, Language is the shadow of action. They must also be\ntaught to be affable and courteous. For as want of affability is justly\nhateful, so boys will not be disagreeable to those they associate with,\nif they yield occasionally in disputes. For it is not only excellent to\nknow how to conquer, but also to know how to be defeated, when victory\nwould be injurious, for there is such a thing as a Cadmean victory.[26]\nI can cite wise Euripides as a witness of the truth of what I say, who\nsays, \"When two are talking, and one of them is in a passion, he is the\nwiser who first gives way.\"[27]\n\nI will next state something quite as important, indeed, if anything,\neven more important. That is, that life must be spent without luxury,\nthe tongue must be under control, so must the temper and the hands. All\nthis is of extreme importance, as I will show by examples. To begin with\nthe last case, some who have put their hands to unjust gains, have lost\nall the fruits of their former life, as the Lacedaemonian Gylippus,[28]\nwho was exiled from Sparta for embezzling the public money. To be able\nto govern the temper also argues a wise man. For Socrates, when a very\nimpudent and disgusting young fellow kicked him on one occasion, seeing\nall the rest of his class vexed and impatient, even to the point of\nwanting to prosecute the young man, said, \"What! If a young ass kicked\nme would you have me kick it back?\" Not that the young fellow committed\nthis outrage on Socrates with impunity, for as all reviled him and\nnicknamed him the kicker, he hung himself. And when Aristophanes brought\nhis \"_Clouds_\" on the stage, and bespattered Socrates with his gibes and\nflouts, and one of the spectators said, \"Aren't you vexed, Socrates, at\nhis exhibiting you on the stage in this comic light?\" he answered, \"Not\nI, by Zeus, for I look upon the theatre as only a large supper\nparty.\"[29] Very similar to this was the behaviour of Archytas of\nTarentum and Plato. The former, on his return from war, where he had\nbeen general, finding his land neglected, called his bailiff, and said\nto him, \"You would have caught it, had I not been very angry.\" And\nPlato, very angry with a gluttonous and shameless slave, called his\nsister's son Speusippus, and said, \"Go and beat him, for I am too\nangry.\" But someone will say, these examples are difficult and hard to\nfollow. I know it. But we must try, as far as possible, following these\nexamples, to avoid ungovernable and mad rage. For we cannot in other\nrespects equal those distinguished men in their ability and virtue,\nnevertheless we must, like initiating priests of the gods and\ntorchbearers of wisdom, attempt as far as possible to imitate and nibble\nat their practice. Then, again, if anyone thinks it a small and\nunimportant matter to govern the tongue, another point I promised to\ntouch on, he is very far from the reality. For silence at the proper\nseason is wisdom, and better than any speech. And that is, I think, the\nreason why the ancients instituted the mysteries that we, learning\ntherein to be silent, might transfer our secrecy to the gods to human\naffairs. And no one ever yet repented of his silence, while multitudes\nhave repented of their speaking. And what has not been said is easy to\nsay, while what has been once said can never be recalled. I have heard\nof myriads who have fallen into the greatest misfortunes through\ninability to govern their tongues. Passing over the rest, I will mention\none or two cases in point. When Ptolemy Philadelphus married his sister\nArsinoe, Sotades said, \"You are contracting an unholy marriage.\"[30] For\nthis speech he long lingered in prison, and paid the righteous penalty\nfor his unseasonable babbling, and had to weep a long time for making\nothers laugh. Theocritus the Sophist similarly cracked his jokes, and\nhad to pay even a greater penalty. For when Alexander ordered the Greeks\nto furnish him with purple robes to wear at the sacrifices on his\ntriumphal return from war against the barbarians, and his subjects\ncontributed so much per head, Theocritus said, \"Before I doubted, but\nnow I am sure, that this is the _purple death_ Homer speaks of.\"[31] By\nthis speech he made Alexander his enemy. The same Theocritus put\nAntigonus, the King of the Macedonians, a one-eyed man, into a\nthundering rage by alluding to his misfortune. For the King sent his\nchief cook, Eutropio, an important person at his court, to go and fetch\nTheocritus before him to confer with him, and when he had frequently\nrequested him to come without avail, Theocritus at last said, \"I know\nwell you wish to serve me up raw to the Cyclops;\" flouting the King as\none-eyed and the cook with his profession. Eutropio replied, \"You shall\nlose your head, and pay the penalty for this babbling and mad\ninsolence;\" and reported his words to the King, who sent and had his\nhead taken off. Our boys must also be taught to speak the truth as a\nmost sacred duty; for to lie is servile, and most hateful in all men,\nhardly to be pardoned even in poor slaves.\n\nSec. XV. Thus much have I said about the good conduct and self-control of\nboys without any doubt or hesitation: but as to what I am now going to\nsay I am doubtful and undecided, and like a person weighed in the scales\nagainst exactly his weight, and feel great hesitation as to whether I\nshould recommend or dissuade the practice. But I must speak out. The\nquestion is this--whether we ought to let the lovers of our boys\nassociate and be with them, or on the contrary, debar them from their\ncompany and scare them off. For when I look at fathers self-opinionated\nsour and austere, who think their sons having lovers a disgrace not to\nbe borne, I am rather afraid of recommending the practice. But when, on\nthe other hand, I think of Socrates, Xenophon, AEschines, Cebes, and all\nthe company of those men who have approved of male loves, and who have\nintroduced their minions to learning, to high positions in the State,\nand to good morals, I change my opinion, and am moved to emulate those\nmen. And Euripides seems to favour these views in the passage, \"But\nthere is among mortals another love, that of the righteous temperate and\npure soul.\"[32] Nor must we omit the remark of Plato, which seems to mix\nseriousness with mirth, that \"those who have distinguished themselves\nought to be permitted to kiss any handsome boy they like.\"[33] Those\nthen that seek only carnal enjoyment must be kept off, but those that\nlove the soul must be encouraged. And while the loves common at Thebes\nand Elis, and the so-called rape at Crete, must be avoided, the loves of\nAthens and Lacedaemon should be emulated.\n\nSec. XVI. As to this matter, therefore, let every parent follow his\ninclination. And now, as I have spoken about the good and decent\nbehaviour of boys, I shall change my subject and speak a little about\nyouths. For I have often censured the introducers of bad habits, who\nhave set over boys tutors and preceptors, but have given to youths full\nliberty, when they ought, on the contrary, to have watched and guarded\nthem more than boys. For who does not know that the offences of boys are\npetty and easily cured, and proceed from the carelessness of tutors or\nwant of obedience to preceptors; but the faults of young men are often\ngrave and serious, as gluttony, and robbing their fathers, and dice, and\nrevellings, and drinking-bouts, and deflowering of maidens, and seducing\nof married women. Such outbreaks ought to be carefully checked and\ncurbed. For that prime of life is prodigal in pleasure, and frisky, and\nneeds a bridle, so that those parents who do not strongly check that\nperiod, are foolishly, if unawares, giving their youths license for\nvice.[34] Sensible parents, therefore, ought during all that period to\nguard and watch and restrain their youths, by precepts, by threats, by\nentreaties, by advice, by promises, by citing examples,[35] on the one\nhand, of those who have come to ruin by being too fond of pleasure, on\nthe other hand, of those who by their self-control have attained to\npraise and good report. For these are, as it were, the two elements of\nvirtue, hope of honour, and fear of punishment; the former inciting to\ngood practices, the latter deterring from bad.\n\nSec. XVII. We ought, at all hazards, to keep our boys also from association\nwith bad men, for they will catch some of their villany. This was the\nmeaning of Pythagoras' enigmatical precepts, which I shall quote and\nexplain, as they give no slight momentum towards the acquisition of\nvirtue: as, _Do not touch black tails_: that is, do not associate with\nbad men.[36] _Do not go beyond the balance_: that is, we must pay the\ngreatest attention to justice and not go beyond it. _Do not sit on a\nmeasure_: that is, do not be lazy, but earn tomorrow's bread as well as\nto-day's. _Do not give everyone your right hand_: that is, do not be too\nready to strike up a friendship. _Do not wear a tight ring_: that is,\nlet your life be free, do not bind yourself by a chain. _Do not poke the\nfire with a sword_: that is, do not provoke an angry person, but yield\nto such. _Do not eat the heart_: do not wear away the heart by anxiety.\n_Abstain from beans_: that is, do not meddle in state affairs, for the\nvoting for offices was formerly taken by beans. _Do not put your food in\nthe chamber-pot_: that is, do not throw your pearls before swine, for\nwords are the food of the mind, and the villany of men twist them to a\ncorrupt meaning. _When you have come to the end of a journey do not look\nback_: that is, when people are going to die and see that their end is\nnear, they ought to take it easily and not be dejected. But I will\nreturn from my digression. We must keep our boys, as I said, from\nassociation with all bad men, but especially from flatterers. For, as I\nhave often said to parents, and still say, and will constantly affirm,\nthere is no race more pestilential, nor more sure to ruin youths\nswiftly, than the race of flatterers, who destroy both parents and sons\nroot and branch, making the old age of the one and the youth of the\nothers miserable, holding out pleasure as a sure bait. The sons of the\nrich are by their fathers urged to be sober, but by them to be drunk; by\ntheir fathers to be chaste, by them to wax wanton; by their fathers to\nsave, by them to spend; by their fathers to be industrious, by them to\nbe lazy. For they say, \"'Our life's but a span;'[37] we can only live\nonce; why should you heed your father's threats? he's an old twaddler,\nhe has one foot in the grave; we shall soon hoist him up and carry him\noff to burial.\" Some even pimp for them and supply them with prostitutes\nor even married women, and cut huge slices off the father's savings for\nold age, if they don't run off with them altogether. An accursed tribe,\nfeigning friendship, knowing nothing of real freedom, flatterers of the\nrich, despisers of the poor, drawn to young men by a sort of natural\nlogic,[38] showing their teeth and grinning all over when their patrons\nlaugh,[39] misbegotten brats of fortune and bastard elements in life,\nliving according to the nod of the rich, free in their circumstances,\nbut slaves by inclination, when they are not insulted thinking\nthemselves insulted, because they are parasites to no purpose. So, if\nany father cares for the good bringing-up of his sons, he must banish\nfrom his house this abominable race. He must also be on his guard\nagainst the viciousness of his sons' schoolfellows, for they are quite\nsufficient to corrupt the best morals.\n\nSec. XVIII. What I have said hitherto is _apropos_ to my subject: I will\nnow speak a word to the men. Parents must not be over harsh and rough in\ntheir natures, but must often forgive their sons' offences, remembering\nthat they themselves were once young. And just as doctors by infusing a\nsweet flavour into their bitter potions find delight a passage to\nbenefit, so fathers must temper the severity of their censure by\nmildness; and sometimes relax and slacken the reins of their sons'\ndesires, and again tighten them; and must be especially easy in respect\nto their faults, or if they are angry must soon cool down. For it is\nbetter for a father to be hot-tempered than sullen, for to continue\nhostile and irreconcilable looks like hating one's son. And it is good\nto seem not to notice some faults, but to extend to them the weak sight\nand deafness of old age, so as seeing not to see, and hearing not to\nhear, their doings. We tolerate the faults of our friends; why should we\nnot that of our sons? often even our slaves' drunken debauches we do not\nexpose. Have you been rather near? spend more freely. Have you been\nvexed? let the matter pass. Has your son deceived you by the help of a\nslave? do not be angry. Did he take a yoke of oxen from the field, did\nhe come home smelling of yesterday's debauch? wink at it. Is he scented\nlike a perfume shop? say nothing. Thus frisky youth gets broken in.[40]\n\nSec. XIX. Those of our sons who are given to pleasure and pay little heed\nto rebuke, we must endeavour to marry, for marriage is the surest\nrestraint upon youth. And we must marry our sons to wives not much\nricher or better born, for the proverb is a sound one, \"Marry in your\nown walk of life.\"[41] For those who marry wives superior to themselves\nin rank are not so much the husbands of their wives as unawares slaves\nto their dowries.[42]\n\nSec. XX. I shall add a few remarks, and then bring my subject to a close.\nBefore all things fathers must, by a good behaviour, set a good example\nto their sons, that, looking at their lives as a mirror, they may turn\naway from bad deeds and words. For those fathers who censure their\nsons' faults while they themselves commit the same, are really their own\naccusers, if they know it not, under their sons' name; and those who\nlive a depraved life have no right to censure their slaves, far less\ntheir sons. And besides this they will become counsellors and teachers\nof their sons in wrongdoing; for where old men are shameless youths will\nof a certainty have no modesty. We must therefore take all pains to\nteach our sons self-control, emulating the conduct of Eurydice, who,\nthough an Illyrian and more than a barbarian, to teach her sons educated\nherself though late in life, and her love to them is well depicted in\nthe inscription which she offered to the Muses: \"Eurydice of Hierapolis\nmade this offering to the Muses, having conceived a vast love for\nknowledge. For when a mother with sons full-grown she learnt letters,\nthe preservers of knowledge.\"\n\nTo carry out all these precepts would be perhaps a visionary scheme; but\nto attain to many, though it would need a happy disposition and much\ncare, is a thing possible to human nature.[43]\n\n    [3] Euripides, \"Here. Fur.\" 1261, 1262.\n\n    [4] Euripides, \"Hippol.\" 424, 425.\n\n    [5] Cleophantus is the name given to this lad by other\n    writers.\n\n    [6] Compare Sophocles, \"Oedipus Tyrannus,\" 112, 113.\n\n    [7] The Thessalians were very pugnacious. Cf. Isocrates,\n    \"Oratio de Pace,\" p. 316. [Greek: ohi men (Thettaloi)\n    sphisin autois haei polemousin].\n\n    [8] A proverbial expression among the ancients for\n    earliest childhood. See Erasmus, \"Adagia.\"\n\n    [9] Plato, \"Republic,\" ii. p. 429, E.\n\n    [10] See Erasmus, \"Adagia.\"\n\n    [11] It is difficult to know how to render the word\n    [Greek: paidagogos] in English. He was the slave who\n    took the boy to school, and generally looked after him\n    from his seventh year upward. Tutor or governor seems\n    the best rendering. He had great power over the boy\n    entrusted to him.\n\n    [12] Plato, \"Clitophon,\" p. 255, D.\n\n    [13] Compare Diogenes Laertius, ii. 72.\n\n    [14] Reading [Greek: koitophthorountes], the excellent\n    emendation of Wyttenbach.\n\n    [15] From the heathen standpoint of course, not from the\n    Christian. Compare the advice of Cato in Horace's\n    \"Satires,\" Book i. Sat. ii. 31-35. It is a little\n    difficult to know what Diogenes' precept really means.\n    Is it that vice is universal? Like Shakespeare's\n    \"Measure for Measure,\" Act ii. Sc. ii. 5. \"All sects,\n    all ages smack of this vice.\"\n\n    [16] He was asked by Polus, see Plato, \"Gorgias,\" p.\n    290, F.\n\n    [17] \"Hippolytus,\" 986-989.\n\n    [18] Cf. Plato, \"Cratylus,\" p. 257, E. [Greek: o pai\n    Hipponikou Hermogenes, palaia paroimia, oti chalepa ta\n    kala estin ope echei mathein]. So Horace, \"Sat.\" i. ix.\n    59, 60, \"Nil sine magno Vita labore dedit mortalibus.\"\n\n    [19] \"Midias,\" p. 411, C.\n\n    [20] _i.e._, occasionally and sparingly.\n\n    [21] Diogenes Laertius assigns the remark to Aristippus,\n    while Stobaeus fathers it on Aristo.\n\n    [22] A favourite thought with the ancients. Compare\n    Isocrates, \"Admonitio ad Demonicum,\" p. 18; and\n    Aristotle, \"Nic. Eth.,\" iv. 3.\n\n    [23] \"Republic,\" vii. p. 489, E.\n\n    [24] A famous Proverb. It is \"the master's eye\"\n    generally, as in Xenophon, \"Oeconom.\" xii. 20; and\n    Aristotle, \"Oeconom.\" i. 6.\n\n    [25] \"Works and Days,\" 361, 362. The lines were\n    favourite ones with our author. He quotes them again, Sec.\n    3, of \"How one may be aware of one's Progress in\n    Virtue.\"\n\n    [26] See Pausanias, ix. 9. Also Erasmus, \"Adagia.\"\n\n    [27] A fragment from the \"Protesilaus\" of Euripides. Our\n    \"It takes two to make a quarrel.\"\n\n    [28] See Plutarch's Lysander.\n\n    [29] Or _symposium_, where all sorts of liberties were\n    taken.\n\n    [30] I have softened his phrase. His actual words were\n    very coarse, and would naturally be resented by Ptolemy.\n    See Athenaeus, 621, A.\n\n    [31] See \"Iliad,\" v. 83; xvi. 334; xx, 477.\n\n    [32] A fragment from the \"Dictys\" of Euripides.\n\n    [33] \"Republ.\" v. 463, F. sq.\n\n    [34] Cf. Shakespeare's \"Winter Tale,\" Act iii. sc. iii.\n    59-63.\n\n    [35] As Horace's father did. See \"Satires,\" Book i. Sat.\n    iv. 105-129.\n\n    [36] What we call _black sheep_.\n\n    [37] From Simonides. Cf. Seneca, \"Epist.\" xlix. \"Punctum\n    est quod vivimus, et adhuc puncto minus.\"\n\n    [38] Reading with Wyttenbach, [Greek: hos ek logikes\n    technes.]\n\n    [39] Like _Carker_ in Dombey.\n\n    [40] Compare the character of Micio in the \"Adelphi\" of\n    Terence.\n\n    [41] This saying is assigned by Diogenes Laertius to\n    Pittacus.\n\n    [42] Compare Plautus, \"Asinaria,\" i. l. 74. \"Argentum\n    accepi: dote imperum vendidi.\" Compare also our author,\n    \"Whether Vice is sufficient to cause Unhappiness,\" Sec. i.\n\n    [43] Wyttenbach thinks this treatise is not Plutarch's.\n    He bases his conclusion partly on external, partly on\n    internal, grounds. It is not quoted by Stobaeus, or any\n    of the ancients, before the fourteenth century. And its\n    style is not Plutarch's; it has many words foreign to\n    Plutarch: it has \"nescio quid novum ac peregrinum, ab\n    illa Plutarchea copia et gravitate diversum leve et\n    inane.\" Certainly its matter is superior to its manner.\n\n\n\n\nON LOVE TO ONE'S OFFSPRING.\n\n\nSec. I. Appeals to foreign law-courts were first devised among the Greeks\nthrough mistrust of one another's justice, for they looked on justice as\na necessity not indigenous among them. Is it not on much the same\nprinciple that the philosophers, in regard to some of their questions,\nowing to their variety of opinion, have appealed to the brute creation\nas to a strange state, and submitted the decision to their instincts and\nhabits as not to be talked over and impartial? Or is it a general\ncharge against human infirmity that, having different opinions on the\nmost necessary and important things, we seek in horses and dogs and\nbirds how to marry and beget and rear children, as though we had no\nmeans of making our own nature known, and appeal to the habits and\ninstincts of the brute creation, and call them in to bear witness\nagainst the many deviations from nature in our lives, which from the\nfirst are confused and disorderly. For among the brutes nature remains\never the same, pure and simple, but in men, owing to reason and habit,\nlike oil in the hands of the perfumers, being mixed up with many added\nopinions, it becomes various and loses its original simplicity. And let\nus not wonder that the brutes follow nature more closely than human\nbeings, for in that respect even they are outstripped by inanimate\nthings, which, being dowered neither with imagination nor any appetite\nor inclination contrary to nature, ever continue in the one path which\nnature has prescribed for them, as if they were tied and bound. But in\nbrutes the gentleness of mood inspired by reason, the subtlety, the love\nof freedom, are not qualities found in excess, but they have\nunreasonable appetites and desires, and act in a roundabout way within\ncertain limits, riding, as it were, at the anchor of nature, and only\ngoing straight under bit and bridle. But in man reason, which is\nabsolute master, inventing different modes and fashions of life, has\nleft no plain or evident trace of nature.[44]\n\nSec. II. Consider in their marriages how much the animals follow nature.\nFor they do not wait for any legislation about bachelor or late-married,\nlike the citizens of Lycurgus and Solon, nor do they fear penalties for\nchildlessness, nor are they anxious for the _jus trium liberorum_,[45]\nlike many of the Romans, who only marry and have children for the\nprivileges it bestows, not to have heirs, but to be qualified for\nsucceeding themselves to inheritances. Then, again, the male animal\ndoes not go with the female at all times; for its aim is not pleasure\nbut procreation: so in the season of spring, the most appropriate time\nfor such pairings,[46] the female being submissive and tender attracts\nthe male by her beautiful condition of body, coming as she does from the\ndew and fresh pastures, and when pregnant modestly retires and takes\nthought for the birth and safety of her offspring. We cannot adequately\ndescribe all this, but every animal exhibits for its young affection and\nforethought and endurance and unselfishness. We call the bee wise, and\ncelebrate its \"making the yellow honey,\"[47] flattering it for its\ntickling sweetness; but we neglect the wisdom and ingenuity of other\ncreatures, both as regards the birth and bringing up of their young. For\nexample, the kingfisher after conception weaves its nest with the thorns\nof the marine needle, making it round and oblong in shape like a\nfisherman's basket, and after deftly and closely weaving it together,\nsubjects it to the action of the sea waves, that its surface may be\nrendered waterproof by this plash and cement, and it is hard for even\niron or stone to break it. And what is more wonderful still, so\nsymmetrically is the entrance of the nest adjusted to the kingfisher's\nshape and size, that no beast either greater or smaller can enter it,\nthey even say that it does not admit the sea, or even the very smallest\nthings. And cats, when they breed, very often let their kittens go out\nand feed, and take them back into their entrails again.[48] And the\nbear, a most savage and ugly beast, gives birth to its young without\nshape or joints, and with its tongue as with an instrument moulds its\nfeatures, so that it seems to give form as well as life to its progeny.\nAnd the lion in Homer, \"whom the hunters meet in the wood with its\nwhelps, exulting in its strength, which so frowns that it hides its\neyes,\"[49] does it not intend to bargain with the hunters for its\nwhelps? For universally the love of animals for their offspring makes\ntimid ones bold, and lazy ones energetic, and greedy ones unselfish.\nAnd so the bird in Homer, feeding its young \"with its beak, with\nwhatever it has captured, even though it goes ill with itself,\"[50]\nnourishes its young at the cost of its own hunger, and when the food is\nnear its maw abstains from it, and holds it tightly in its mouth, that\nit may not gulp it down unawares. \"And so a bitch bestriding her tender\npups, barks at a strange man, and yearns for the fray,\"[51] making her\nfear for them a sort of second anger. And partridges when they are\npursued with their young let them fly on, and, contriving their safety,\nthemselves fly so near the sportsmen as to be almost caught, and then\nwheel round, and again fly back and make the sportsmen hope to catch\nthem, till at last, having thus provided for the safety of their young,\nthey lead the sportsmen on a long way. As to hens, we see every day how\nthey watch over their chicks, dropping their wings over some, and\nletting others climb on their backs, or anywhere about them, and\nclucking for joy all the time: and though they fly from dogs and dragons\nwhen only afraid for themselves, if they are afraid for their chicks\nthey stand their ground and fight valiantly. Are we to suppose then that\nnature has only implanted these instincts in fowls and dogs and bears,\nanxious only about their offspring, to put us mortals out of countenance\nand to give us a bad name? considering these examples for us to follow,\nwhile disgrace justly attaches to our inhumanity, for mankind only is\naccused of having no disinterested affection, and of not knowing how to\nlove except in regard to advantage. For that line is greatly admired in\nthe theatres, \"Man loves man only for reward,\" and is the view of\nEpicurus, who thinks that the father so loves his son, the mother her\nchild, children their parents. Whereas, if the brutes could understand\nconversation, and if anyone were to introduce horses and cows and dogs\nand birds into a common theatre,[52] and were to change the sentiment\ninto \"neither do dogs love their pups, nor horses their foals, nor birds\ntheir young, out of interest, but gratuitously and by nature,\" it would\nbe recognized by the affections of all of them to be a true sentiment.\nWhy it would be disgraceful, great God, that birth and travail and\nprocreation should be gratis and mere nature among the beasts, while\namong mankind they should be merely mercenary transactions!\n\nSec. III. But such a statement is not true or worthy of credit. For as\nnature, in wild growths, such as wild vines, wild figs, or wild olives,\nmakes the fruit imperfect and inferior to the fruit of cultivated trees,\nso has she given to the brutes an imperfect affection for their kind,\none neither marked by justice nor going beyond commodity: whereas to\nman, a logical and social animal, she has taught justice and law, and\nhonour to the gods, and building of cities, and philanthropy, and has\ncontributed the noble and goodly and fruitful seeds of all these in love\nto one's offspring, thereby following the very first elements that are\nfound in the construction of the body. For nature is everywhere perfect\nand artistic and complete, and, to borrow the expression of\nErasistratus, has nothing tawdry about her: but one cannot adequately\ndescribe all the processes appertaining to birth, nor would it be\nperhaps decent to pry too closely into such hidden matters, and to\nparticularize too minutely all their wondrous ingenuity. But her\ncontrivance and dispensation of milk alone is sufficient to prove\nnature's wonderful care and forethought. For all the superfluous blood\nin women, that owing to their languor and thinness of spirit floats\nabout on the surface and oppresses them, has a safety-valve provided by\nnature in the menses, which relieve and cleanse the rest of the body,\nand fit the womb for conception in due season. But after conception\nnature stops the menses, and arrests the flow of the blood, using it as\naliment for the babe in the womb, until the time arrives for its birth,\nand it requires a different kind of food. At this stage the blood is\nmost ingeniously changed into a supply of milk, not diffused all over\nthe body, but externally in the breasts, so that the babe can with its\nmouth imbibe the gentle and soothing nutriment.[53] But all these\nvarious processes of nature, all this economy, all this forethought,\nwould be useless, had not nature also implanted in mothers love to their\noffspring and anxiety for their welfare.\n\n  \"For of all things, that on the earth do breathe\n   Or creep, man is by far the wretchedest.\"[54]\n\nAnd the poet's words are especially applicable to a newborn babe. For\nthere is nothing so imperfect, so helpless, so naked, so shapeless, so\nfoul as a newborn babe: to whom almost alone nature has given an impure\noutlet to the light of day: being kneaded with blood, and full of\ndefilement, and like one killed rather than born: which no one would\ntouch, or lift up, or kiss, or embrace, but from natural affection. And\nthat is why all the animals have their udders under the belly, women\nalone have their breasts high on their bodies, that they can lift up\ntheir babes to kiss, to dandle, and to fondle: seeing that their bearing\nand rearing children comes not from necessity but love.\n\nSec. IV. Refer the question to the ancient inhabitants of the earth, to the\nfirst mothers and fathers. There was no law ordering them to have\nfamilies, no expectation of advantage or return to be got out of them. I\nshould rather say that mothers would be likely to be hostile and bear\nmalice to their babes, owing to the great danger and pains of travail.\nAnd women say the lines, \"When the sharp pangs of travail seize on the\npregnant woman, then come to her aid the Ilithyiae, who help women in\nhard childbirth, those daughters of Hera, goddesses of travail,\"[55]\nwere not written by Homer, but by some Homerid who had been a mother, or\nwas even then in the throes of travail, and who vividly felt the sharp\npain in her womb. But the love to one's offspring implanted by nature,\nmoves and influences the mother even then: in the very height of her\nthroes, she neglects not nor flees from her babe, but turns to it and\nsmiles at it, and takes it up and caresses it, though she derives no\npleasure or utility from it, but with pain and sorrow receives it,\n\"warming it and fostering it in swaddling clothes, with unintermittent\nassiduity both night and day.\"[56] What hope of gain or advantage had\nthey in those days? nay, or even now? for the hopes of parents are\nuncertain, and have to be long waited for. He who plants a vine in the\nspring equinox, gleans its vintage in the autumnal equinox; he who sows\ncorn when the Pleiads set, reaps it when they rise; cattle and horses\nand birds have produce at once fit for use; whereas man's bringing up is\ntoilsome, his growth slow; and as excellence flowers late, most fathers\ndie before their sons attain to fame. Neocles lived not to see\nThemistocles' victory at Salamis, nor Miltiades Cimon's at the\nEurymedon, nor did Xanthippus hear Pericles haranguing, nor did Aristo\nhear Plato philosophizing, nor did their fathers know of the triumphs of\nEuripides and Sophocles. They heard them faltering in speech and lisping\nin syllables, the poor parents saw their errors in revelling and\ndrinking and love-affairs, so that of all Evenus'[57] lines, that one\nalone is most remembered and quoted, \"to a father a son is always a\ncause of fear or pain.\" Nevertheless, parents do not cease to bring up\nsons, even when they can least need them. For it is ridiculous to\nsuppose that the rich, when they have sons, sacrifice and rejoice that\nthey will have people to take care of them and to bury them; unless\nindeed they bring up sons from want of heirs; as if one could not find\nor fall in with anyone who would be willing to have another's property!\nWhy, the sand on the sea shore, and the dust, and the wings of birds of\nvaried note, are less numerous than the number of would-be heirs. For\nhad Danaus, the father of fifty daughters, been childless, he would have\nhad more heirs, and of a different spirit. For sons have no gratitude,\nnor regard, nor veneration for inheritance; but take it as a debt;\nwhereas the voices of strangers which you hear round the childless man,\nare like those lines in the play, \"O People, first bathe, after one\ndecision in the courts, then eat, drink, gobble, take the\nthree-obol-piece.\"[58] And what Euripides has said, \"Money finds friends\nfor men, and has the greatest power among mankind,\" is not merely a\ngeneral truth, but is especially true in the case of the childless. For\nthose the rich entertain to dinner, those great men pay court to, to\nthose alone orators give their services gratis. \"A mighty personage is a\nrich man, whose heir is unknown.\" It has at any rate made many much\nloved and honoured, whom the possession of one child would have made\nunloved and insignificant. Whence we see that there is no power or\nadvantage to be got from children, but that the love of them, alike in\nmankind as among the animals, proceeds entirely from nature.\n\nSec. V. What if this natural affection, like many other virtues, is\nobscured by badness, as a wilderness chokes a garden? Are we to say that\nman does not love himself by nature, because many cut their throats or\nthrow themselves down precipices? Did not Oedipus put out his eyes? And\ndid not Hegesias by his speeches make, many of his hearers to commit\nsuicide?[59] \"Fatality has many different aspects.\"[60] But all these\nare diseases and maladies of the soul driving a man contrary to nature\nout of his wits: as men themselves testify even against themselves. For\nif a sow destroys one of its litter, or a bitch one of its pups, men are\ndejected and troubled, and think it an evil omen, and sacrifice to the\ngods to avert any bad results, on the score that it is natural to all to\nlove and cherish their offspring, unnatural to destroy it. For just as\nin mines the gold is conspicuous even though mixed up with earth, so\nnature manifests plainly love to offspring even in instances of faulty\nhabits and affections. For when the poor do not rear their children, it\nis from fear that if reared to man's estate they would be more than\nought to be the case servile, and have little culture, and be debarred\nof all advantages: so, thinking poverty the worst of all evils, they\ncannot bear to give it their children, any more than they would some bad\ndisease.[61]\n\n    [44] Much of this is very corrupt in the Greek. I have\n    tried to get the best sense I could; but it is very\n    obscure. Certainly Plutarch's style is often very harsh\n    and crabbed.\n\n    [45] The _jus trium liberorum_ assigned certain\n    privileges to the father of three children, under the\n    Roman Emperors. Frequent allusions are made to this law\n    by the ancient writers.\n\n    [46] Compare Lucretius, i. 10-20.\n\n    [47] A quotation from Simonides.\n\n    [48] We are not bound to swallow all the ancients tell\n    us. Credat Judaeus Apella!\n\n    [49] \"Iliad,\" xvii. 134-136.\n\n    [50] \"Iliad,\" ix. 324. Quoted again in \"How one may be\n    aware of one's Progress in Virtue,\" Sec. 8.\n\n    [51] \"Odyssey,\" xx. 14, 15.\n\n    [52] A theatre, that is, in which animals and birds and\n    human beings should meet in common.\n\n    [53] All that is said here about the milk, the menses,\n    and the blood, I have been obliged somewhat to condense\n    and paraphrase. The ancients sometimes speak more\n    plainly than we can. Ever and anon one must pare down a\n    phrase or word in translating an ancient author. It is\n    inevitable. _Verbum sat sapienti._\n\n    [54] Homer, \"Iliad,\" xvii. 446, 447.\n\n    [55] Ibid. xi. 269-271.\n\n    [56] A fragment from Euripides, according to Xylander.\n\n    [57] Evenus of Paros was an Elegiac Poet.\n\n    [58] Aristophanes, \"Equites,\" 50, 51.\n\n    [59] See Cicero \"Tuscul.\" i. 34.\n\n    [60] Euripides, \"Alcestis,\" 1159; \"Helena,\" 1688;\n    \"Andromache,\" 1284; \"Bacchae,\" 1388.\n\n    [61] The discourse breaks off abruptly. It is directed\n    against the Epicureans. It throws ridicule on appealing\n    to the affection of brutes for their offspring instead\n    of appealing to human nature.\n\n\n\n\nON LOVE.\n\nFLAVIANUS AND AUTOBULUS, THE OPENERS OF THE DIALOGUE,\nARE BROTHERS. THE OTHER SPEAKERS ARE THEIR FATHER,\nDAPHNAEUS, PROTOGENES, PISIAS, AND OTHERS.\n\n\nI. _Flavianus._--You say that it was on Mount Helicon, Autobulus, that\nthose conversations took place about Love, which you are now about to\nnarrate to us at our request, as you either wrote them down, or at least\nremember them from frequently asking our father about them.\n\n_Autobulus._--It was on Mount Helicon among the Muses, Flavianus, when\nthe people of Thespiae were celebrating their Festival to the God of\nLove, which they celebrate very magnificently and splendidly every five\nyears to that God, as also to the Muses.\n\n_Flavianus._--Do you know what all of us who have come to this audience\nintend to ask of you?\n\n_Autobulus._--No, but I shall know if you tell me.\n\n_Flavianus._--Remove from your discourse for this once the poet's\nmeadows and shades, and talk about ivy and yews, and all other\ncommonplaces of that kind that writers love to introduce, with more zeal\nthan discretion, in imitation of Plato's Ilissus and the famous willow\nand the gentle slope of grass.[62]\n\n_Autobulus._--My dear Flavianus, my narrative needs not any such\nexordium. The occasion that caused the conversation simply demands a\nchorus for the action and a stage, nothing else is wanting to the drama,\nlet us only pray to the Mother of the Muses to be propitious, and give\nme memory for my narrative.\n\nSec. II. Long ago our father, before we were born, having lately married\nour mother, had gone to sacrifice to the God of Love, in consequence of\na dispute and variance that broke out among their parents, and took our\nmother to the Festival, for she also had her part in the vow and\nsacrifice. Some of their intimate friends journeyed with them from the\ntown where they lived, and when they got to Thespiae they found there\nDaphnaeus the son of Archidamus, a lover of Lysandra the daughter of\nSimo, and of all her suitors the one who stood highest in her favour,\nand Soclarus the son of Aristio, who had come from Tithorea. And there\nwere there also Protogenes of Tarsus, and Zeuxippus from Sparta,\nstrangers, and my father said most of the most notable Boeotians were\nthere also. For two or three days they went about the town in one\nanother's company, as it was likely they would do, quietly carrying on\nphilosophical discussions in the wrestling-schools and theatres: after\nthat, to avoid a wearisome contest of harpers, decided beforehand by\ncanvassing and cabal, most broke up their camp as if they had been in a\nhostile country, and removed to Mount Helicon, and bivouacked there with\nthe Muses. In the morning they were visited by Anthemion and Pisias,\nboth men of good repute, and very great friends of Baccho, who was\nsurnamed the Handsome, and also rivals of one another somewhat through\ntheir affection for him. Now you must know that there was at Thespiae a\nlady called Ismenodora, famous for her wealth and good family, and of\nuncommon good repute for her virtuous life: for she had been a widow\nsome time without a breath of slander lighting upon her, though she was\nyoung and good-looking. As Baccho was the son of a friend and crony of\nhers, she had tried to bring about a marriage between him and a maiden\nwho was her own relation, but by frequently being in his company and\ntalking to him she had got rather smitten with him herself. And hearing\nmuch in his favour, and often talking about him, and seeing that many\nnoble young men were in love with him, she fell violently in love with\nhim, and, being resolved to do nothing unbecoming to her fair fame,\ndetermined to marry and live openly with him. And the matter seeming in\nitself rather odd, Baccho's mother looked rather askance at the proposed\nmatrimonial alliance as being too high and splendid for her son, while\nsome of his companions who used to go out hunting with him, frightening\nhim and flouting him with Ismenodora's being rather too old for him,\nreally did more to break off the match than those who seriously opposed\nit. And Baccho, being only a youth, somehow felt a little ashamed at the\nidea of marrying a widow, but, neglecting the opinions of everybody\nelse, he submitted the decision as to the expediency of the marriage to\nPisias and Anthemion, the latter being his cousin, though older than\nhim, and the former the gravest[63] of his lovers. Pisias objected to\nthe marriage, and upbraided Anthemion with throwing the youth away on\nIsmenodora. Anthemion replied that it was not well in Pisias, being a\ngood fellow in other respects, to imitate depraved lovers by shutting\nout his friend from house and marriage and wealth, merely that he might\nenjoy the sight of him as long as possible naked and in all his virgin\nbloom at the wrestling-schools.\n\nSec. III. To avoid getting estranged by provoking one another on the\nquestion, they came and chose our father and his companions as umpires\non the matter. And of the other friends, as if by concerted arrangement,\nDaphnaeus espoused the view of Anthemion, and Protogenes the view of\nPisias. And Protogenes inveighing somewhat too freely against\nIsmenodora, Daphnaeus took him up and said, \"Hercules, what are we not to\nexpect, if Protogenes is going to be hostile to love? he whose whole\nlife, whether in work or at play, has been devoted to love, in\nforgetfulness of letters, in forgetfulness of his country, not like\nLaius, away from his country only five days, his was only a torpid and\nland love: whereas your love 'unfolding its swift wings,' flew over the\nsea from Cilicia to Athens, merely to gaze at and saunter about with\nhandsome boys. For that was the original reason, doubtless, of\nProtogenes' journey abroad.\"\n\nSec. IV. And some laughter ensuing, Protogenes replied, \"Do I really seem\nto you now to be hostile to love, and not to be fighting for love\nagainst ungovernable lust, which with most disgraceful acts and emotions\nassumes the most honourable of titles?\" Whereupon Daphnaeus, \"Do you call\nthe marriage and union of man and woman most disgraceful, than which no\nholier tie exists nor ever did?\" Protogenes replied, \"Why, as all this\nis necessary for the human race to continue, our legislators do not act\namiss in crying up marriage and eulogizing it to the masses, but of\ngenuine love there is not a particle in the woman's side of a house;[64]\nand I also say that you who are sweet on women and girls only love them\nas flies love milk, and bees the honey-comb, and butchers and cooks\ncalves and birds, fattening them up in darkness.[65] But as nature leads\none to eat and drink moderately and sufficiently, and excess in this is\ncalled gluttony and gormandizing, so the mutual desires between men and\nwomen are natural; but that headlong, violent, and uncontrollable\npassion for the sex is not rightly called love. For love, when it seizes\na noble and young soul, ends in virtue through friendship; but these\nviolent passions for women, at the best, aim only at carnal enjoyment\nand reaping the harvest of a beauteous prime, as Aristippus showed in\nhis answer to one who told him Lais loved him not, 'No more,' he said,\n'do meat and wine love me, but I gladly enjoy both.'[66] For the end of\npassion is pleasure and fruition: but love, when it has once lost the\npromise of friendship, will not remain and continue to cherish merely\nfor beauty that which gives it pain, where it gives no return of\nfriendship and virtue. You remember the husband in the play saying to\nhis wife, 'Do you hate me? I can bear that hatred very easily, since of\nmy dishonour I make money.' Not a whit more really in love than this\nhusband is the one, who, not for gain but merely for the sexual\nappetite, puts up with a peevish and unsympathetic wife, as Philippides,\nthe comic poet, ridiculed the orator, Stratocles, 'You scarce can kiss\nher if she turns her back on you.' If, however, we ought to give the\nname of love to this passion, then is it an effeminate and bastard love,\nand like at Cynosarges,[67] taking us to the woman's side of the house:\nor rather as they say there is a genuine mountain eagle, which Homer\ncalled 'black, and a bird of prey,' and there are other kinds of\nspurious eagles, which catch fish and lazy birds in marshes, and often\nin want of food emit an hungry wail: so the genuine love is the love of\nboys, a love not 'flashing with desire,' as Anacreon said the love of\nmaidens was, nor 'redolent of ointment and sprightly,' but you will see\nit plain and without airs in the schools of the philosophers, or perhaps\nin the gymnasiums and wrestling-schools, keenly and nobly pursuing\nyouths, and urging on to virtue those who are well worthy of attention:\nbut that soft and stay-at-home love, spending all its time in women's\nbosoms and beds, always pursuing effeminate delights, and enervated by\nunmanly, unfriendly, and unimpassioned pleasures, we ought to condemn as\nSolon condemned it: for he forbade slaves to love boys or to anoint them\nwith oil, while he allowed them to associate with women. For friendship\nis noble and refined, whereas pleasure is vulgar and illiberal.\nTherefore, for a slave to love boys is neither liberal or refined: for\nit is merely the love of copulation, as the love of women.\"\n\nSec. V. Protogenes was intending to go on at greater length, when Daphnaeus\nstopped him and said, \"You do well, by Zeus, to mention Solon, and we\ntoo may use him as the test of an amorous man. Does he not define such a\none in the lines, 'As long as you love boys in the glorious flower of\ntheir youth for their kisses and embraces.' And add to Solon the lines\nof AEschylus, 'You did not disdain the honour of the thighs, O thankless\none after all my frequent kisses.'[68] For some laugh at them if they\nbid lovers, like sacrificing priests and seers, to inspect thighs and\nloins; but I think this a mighty argument in behalf of the love of\nwomen. For if the unnatural commerce with males does not take away or\nmar the amorous propensity, much more likely is it that the natural love\nof women will end in friendship after the favour. For, Protogenes, the\nyielding of the female to the male was called by the ancients the\nfavour. Thus Pindar says Hephaestus was the son of Hera 'without any\nfavours':[69] and Sappho, addressing a girl not yet ripe for marriage,\nsays to her, 'You seemed to me a little girl, too young for the favour.'\nAnd someone asks Hercules, 'Did you obtain the girl's favour by force or\nby persuasion?' But the love of males for males, whether rape or\nvoluntary--pathicks effeminately submitting, to use Plato's words, 'to\nbe treated bestially'--is altogether a foul and unlovely favour. And so\nI think Solon wrote the lines quoted above 'in his hot youth,' as Plato\nputs it; but when he became older wrote these other lines, 'Now I\ndelight in Cyprus-born Aphrodite, and in Dionysus, and in the Muses: all\nthese give joys to men': as if, after the heat and tempest of his boyish\nloves, he had got into a quiet haven of marriage and philosophy. But\nindeed, Protogenes, if we look at the real facts of the case, the love\nfor boys and women is really one and the same passion: but if you wish\nin a disputatious spirit to make any distinction, you will find that\nthis boy-love goes beyond all bounds, and, like some late-born and\nill-begotten bastard brat, seeks to expel its legitimate brother the\nolder love, the love of women. For indeed, friend, it is only yesterday\nor the day before, since the strippings and exposures of the youths in\nthe gymnasiums, that this boy-love crept in, and gently insinuated\nitself and got a footing, and at last in a little time got fully-fledged\nin the wrestling-schools, and has now got fairly unbearable, and insults\nand tramples on conjugal love, that love that gives immortality to our\nmortal race, when our nature has been extinguished by death, kindling it\nagain by new births. And this boy-love denies that pleasure is its aim:\nfor it is ashamed and afraid to confess the truth: but it needs some\nspecious excuse for the liberties it takes with handsome boys in their\nprime: the pretext is friendship and virtue. So your boy-lover wallows\nin the dust, bathes in cold water, raises his eyebrows, gives himself\nout for a philosopher, and lives chaste abroad because of the law: but\nin the stillness of night\n\n  'Sweet is the ripe fruit when the guard's withdrawn.'[70]\n\nBut if, as Protogenes says, there is no carnal intercourse in these\nboy-familiarities, how is it Love, if Aphrodite is not present, whom it\nis the destiny of Love to cherish and pay court to, and to partake of\njust as much honour and power as she assigns to him? But if there is any\nLove without Aphrodite, as there is drunkenness without wine in drinks\nmade from figs and barley, the disturbing it will be fruitless and\nwithout effect, and surfeiting and disgusting.\"\n\nSec. VI. At the conclusion of this speech, it was clear that Pisias was\nvexed and indignant with Daphnaeus; and after a moment's silence he\nbegan: \"O Hercules! what levity and audacity for men to state that they\nare tied to women as dogs to bitches, and to banish the god of Love from\nthe gymnasiums and public walks, and light of day and open intercourse,\nand to restrict him to brothels[71] and philtres and incantations of\nwanton women: for to chaste women, I am sure, it belongs not either to\nlove or be loved.\" At this point our father told me he interposed, and\ntook Protogenes by the hand, and said to him:\n\n  \"'This word of yours rouses the Argive host,'\n\nand of a verity Pisias makes us to side with Daphnaeus by his extravagant\nlanguage, charging marriage with being a loveless intercourse, and one\nthat has no participation in divine friendship, although we can see that\nit is an intercourse, if erotic persuasion and favour fail, that cannot\nbe restrained by shame and fear as by bit and bridle.\" Thereupon Pisias\nsaid, \"I care little about his arguments; but I see that Daphnaeus is in\nthe same condition as brass: for, just as it is not worked upon so much\nby the agency of fire as by the molten and liquid brass fused with it,\nso is he not so much captivated by the beauty of Lysandra as by his\nassociation with one who is the victim of the gentle passion; and it is\nplain that, if he doesn't take refuge with us, he will soon melt away\nin the flame altogether. But I see, what Anthemion would very much like,\nthat I am offending the Court, so I stop.\" \"You amuse us,\" said\nAnthemion: \"but you ought from the first to have spoken to the point.\"\n\nSec. VII. \"I say then,\" continued Pisias, \"and give it out boldly, as far\nas I am concerned, let every woman have a lover; but we ought to guard\nagainst giving the wealth of Ismenodora to Baccho, lest, if we involve\nhim in so much grandeur and magnificence, we unwittingly lose him in it,\nas tin is lost in brass. For if the lad were to marry quite a plain and\ninsignificant woman, it would be great odds whether he would keep the\nupper hand, as wine mixed with water; and Ismenodora seems already\nmarked out for sway and command; for otherwise she would not have\nrejected such illustrious and wealthy suitors to woo a lad hardly yet\narrived at man's estate, and almost requiring a tutor still. And\ntherefore men of sense prune the excessive wealth of their wives, as if\nit had wings that required clipping; for this same wealth implants in\nthem luxury, caprice, and vanity, by which they are often elated and fly\naway altogether: but if they remain, it would be better to be bound by\ngolden fetters, as in Ethiopia, than to a woman's wealth.\"\n\nSec. VIII. Here Protogenes put in, \"You say nothing about the risk we run\nof unseasonably and ridiculously reversing the well-known advice of\nHesiod:\n\n  'If seasonable marriage you would make,\n   Let about thirty be the bridegroom's age,\n   The bride be in the fifth year of her womanhood:'[72]\n\nif we thus marry a lad hardly old enough for marriage to a woman so many\nyears older, than himself, as dates and figs are forced. You will say\nshe loves him passionately: who prevents her, then, from serenading at\nhis doors, singing her amorous ditty, putting garlands on his statues,\nand wrestling and boxing with her rivals in his affections? For all\nthese are what people in love do. And let her lower her eyebrows, and\ngive up the airs of a coquette, and assume the appearance of those that\nare deeply smitten. But if she is modest and chaste, let her decorously\nstay at home and await there her lovers and sweethearts; for any\nsensible man would be disgusted and flee from a woman who took the\ninitiative in love, far less would he be likely to marry her after such\na barefaced wooing.\"\n\nSec. IX. When Protogenes had done speaking, my father said, \"Do you see,\nAnthemion, that they force us to intervene again, who have no objection\nto dance in the retinue of conjugal Love?\" \"I do,\" said Anthemion, \"but\npray defend Love at some length, as you are on his side, and moreover\ncome to the rescue of wealth,[73] with which Pisias seeks to scare us.\"\nThereupon my father began, \"What on earth will not be brought as a\ncharge against a woman, if we are to reject Ismenodora because she is in\nlove and has money? Granted she loves sway and is rich? What then, if\nshe is young and handsome? And what if she plumes herself somewhat on\nthe lustre of her race? Have not chaste women often something of the\nmorose and peevish in their character almost past bearing? Do they not\nsometimes get called waspish and shrewish by virtue of their very\nchastity? Would it be best then to marry off the street some Thracian\nAbrotonus, or some Milesian Bacchis, and seal the bargain by the present\nof a handful of nuts? But we have known even such turn out intolerable\ntyrants, Syrian flute-girls and ballet-dancers, as Aristonica, and\nOenanthe with her tambourine, and Agathoclea, who have lorded it over\nkings' diadems.[74] Why Syrian Semiramis was only the servant and\nconcubine of one of king Ninus's slaves, till Ninus the great king\nseeing and falling in love with her, she got such power over him that\nshe thought so cheap of him, that she asked to be allowed one day to sit\non the royal throne, with the royal diadem on her head, and to transact\nstate affairs. And Ninus having granted her permission, and having\nordered all his subjects to obey her as himself, she first gave several\nvery moderate orders to make trial of the guards; but when she saw that\nthey obeyed her without the slightest hesitation, she ordered them to\nseize Ninus and put him in fetters, and at last put him to death; and\nall her commands being obeyed, she ruled over Asia for a long time with\ngreat lustre. And was not Belestiche a foreign woman off the streets,\nalthough at Alexandria she has shrines and temples, with an inscription\nas Aphrodite Belestiche, which she owes to the king's love? And she who\nhas in this very town[75] a temple and rites in common with Eros, and at\nDelphi stands in gold among kings and queens, by what dowry got she her\nlovers? But just as the lovers of Semiramis, Belestiche, and Phryne,\nbecame their prey unconsciously through their weakness and effeminacy,\nso on the other hand poor and obscure men, having contracted alliances\nwith rich women of rank, have not been thereby spoilt nor merged their\npersonality, but have lived with their wives on a footing of kindness,\nyet still kept their position as heads of the house. But he that abases\nhis wife and makes her small, like one who tightens the ring on a finger\ntoo small for it fearing it will come off,[76] is like those who cut\ntheir mares' tails off and then take them to a river or pond to drink,\nwhen they say that sorrowfully discerning their loss of beauty these\nmares lose their self-respect and allow themselves to be covered by\nasses.[77] To select a wife for wealth rather than for her excellence or\nfamily is dishonourable and illiberal; but it is silly to reject wealth\nwhen it is accompanied by excellence and family. Antigonus indeed wrote\nto his officer who had garrisoned Munychia[78] to make not only the\ncollar strong but the dog lean, that he might undermine the strength of\nthe Athenians; but it becomes not the husband of a rich or handsome\nwoman to make his wife poor or ugly, but by his self-control and good\nsense, and by not too extravagantly showing his admiration for her, to\nexhibit himself as her equal not her slave, and (to borrow an\nillustration from the scales) to add just so much weight to his\ncharacter as shall over-balance her, yet only just. Moreover, both\nIsmenodora and Baccho are of a suitable age for marriage and procreation\nof children; Ismenodora, I hear, is still in her prime, and\" (here my\nfather smiled slily at Pisias) \"she is certainly not a bit older than\nher rivals, and has no grey hairs, as some of those who consort with\nBaccho have. And if their union is seasonable, who knows but that she\nmay be a better partner for him than any young woman? For young couples\ndo not blend and mix well together, and it takes a long time and is not\nan easy process for them to divest themselves of their pride and spirit,\nand at first there's a good deal of dirty weather and they don't pull\nwell together, and this is oftenest the case when there's love on both\nsides, and, just as a storm wrecks the ship if no pilot is on board, so\ntheir marriage is trouble and confusion, neither party knowing how\neither to rule or to give way properly. And if the baby is under the\nnurse, and the boy under the master, and the lad under the master of the\ngymnasium, and the youth under his lover, and the full-grown man under\nthe law and magistrate, and no one is his own master and exempt from\nobedience to someone, what wonder would it be if a sensible woman rather\nolder than her husband would direct well the life of a young man, being\nuseful to him by reason of her superior wisdom, and acceptable to him\nfor her sweetness and gentleness? And to sum up the whole matter,\" said\nhe, \"we Boeotians ought to revere Hercules, and so find no fault in any\ninequality of age in marriages, seeing that he gave his own wife Megara\nin marriage to Iolaus, though he was only sixteen and she\nthree-and-thirty.\"[79]\n\nSec. X. As the conversation was going on, our father said that a friend of\nPisias came galloping up from the town to report an act of marvellous\naudacity. Ismenodora, it appears, thinking Baccho had no personal\ndislike to the match, but only stood in awe of his friends who tried to\ndissuade him from it, determined that she would not let the young fellow\nslip through her fingers. Accordingly, she sent for the most active and\nintimate[80] of her male friends, and for some of her female cronies,\nand instructed them as to what part they should play, and waited for the\nhour when Baccho was accustomed regularly to pass by her house on his\nway to the wrestling-school. And as he passed by on this occasion with\ntwo or three of his companions, anointed for the exercise, Ismenodora\nmet him at the door and just touched his cloak, and her friends rushed\nout all together and prettily seized the pretty fellow as he was in his\ncloak and jersey,[81] and hurried him into the house and at once locked\nthe doors. And the women inside at once divested him of his cloak and\nput on him a bridal robe; and the servants ran about the town and put\nolive wreaths and laurel garlands at the doors of Baccho's house as well\nas Ismenodora's, and a flute-girl went up and down the street playing\nand singing the wedding-song. And some of the inhabitants of Thespiae and\nthe strangers laughed, others were indignant and tried to make the\nsuperintendents of the gymnasium move in the matter, for they have great\npower in Thespiae over the youths, and pay great attention to their\nactions. And now there was no more talk about the sports, but everyone\nleft the theatre for the neighbourhood of Ismenodora's house, and there\nstood in groups talking and disputing about what had happened.\n\nSec. XI. Now when Pisias' friend had come up like an _aide-de-camp_ in war,\n\"bloody with spurring, fiery red with haste,\" to report this news that\nIsmenodora had seized Baccho, my father said that Zeuxippus smiled, and\nbeing a great lover of Euripides repeated the line,\n\n  \"Lady, though rich, thou hast thy sex's feelings.\"\n\nBut Pisias jumped up and cried out, \"Ye gods, what will be the end of\nlicense like this which will overthrow our town? Already we are fast\ntending to lawlessness through our independence. And yet it is perhaps\nridiculous to be indignant about law and justice, when nature itself is\ntrampled upon by being thus subjected to women? Saw even Lemnos ever the\nlike of this?[82] Let us go,\" he continued, \"let us go and hand over to\nthe women the gymnasium and council-hall, if the townsmen have lost all\ntheir nerve.\" Pisias then left the company, and Protogenes went with\nhim, partly sympathizing with his indignation, but still endeavouring to\ncool him. And Anthemion said, \"'Twas a bold deed and certainly does\nsavour somewhat of Lemnos--I own it now we are alone--this Ismenodora\nmust be most violently in love.\" Hereupon Soclarus said, with a sly\nsmile, \"You don't think then that this rape and detention was an excuse\nand stratagem on the part of a wily young man to escape from the\nclutches of his lovers, and fly of his own volition to the arms of a\nrich and handsome widow?\" \"Pray don't say so, Soclarus,\" said Anthemion,\n\"pray don't entertain any such suspicions of Baccho, for even if he were\nnot by nature most simple and naive, he would not have concealed the\nmatter from me to whom he divulges all his secrets, especially as he\nknows that I have always been very anxious he should marry Ismenodora.\nBut as Heraclitus says truly, It is more difficult to control love than\nanger; for whatever love has a fancy to, it will buy even at the cost of\nlife, money, and reputation. Who lives a more quiet life in our town\nthan Ismenodora? When did ever any ugly rumour attach itself to her?\nWhen did ever any breath of suspicion sully her house? Some divine\ninspiration, beyond human calculation, seems now to have possessed her.\"\n\nSec. XII. Then Pemptides laughed and said, \"Of course you know that there\nis a certain disease of the body called the sacred disease.[83] It is no\nwonder, therefore, if some call the greatest and most insane passion of\nthe soul sacred and divine. However, as in Egypt I once saw two\nneighbours disputing when a serpent passed by them on the road, both\ncalling it a good omen, but each claiming the blessing as his alone; so\nseeing lately that some of you drag Love to the men's apartments, while\nothers confine it to the women's side of the house, while all of you\nregard it as a divine and superlative blessing, I do not wonder, since\nit is a passion that has such power and honour, that those who ought to\nbanish it from every quarter and clip its wings do themselves add to its\ninfluence and power. And hitherto I held my peace, for I saw that the\ndiscussion turned rather on private than public interests, but now that\nwe have got rid of Pisias, I would gladly hear from you to what they had\nan eye who first called Love a god.\"\n\nSec. XIII. Just as Pemptides had left off, and our father was about to\nanswer his question, another messenger came from the town, sent by\nIsmenodora to summon Anthemion, for the tumult had increased, and there\nwas a difference of opinion between the superintendents of the\ngymnasium, one thinking they ought to demand the liberation of Baccho,\nthe other thinking they ought not to interfere. Anthemion got up at once\nand went off. And our father, addressing Pemptides especially, said,\n\"You seem to me, my dear Pemptides, to be handling a great and bold\nmatter, or rather to be discussing things that ought not to be\ndiscussed, in asking for a reason in each case for our opinion about the\ngods. Our ancient and hereditary faith is sufficient, a better argument\nthan which we cannot either utter or find,\n\n  'Not e'en if wisdom in our brains resides;'[84]\n\nbut if this common foundation and basis of all piety be disturbed, and\nits stability and time-honoured ideas be unsettled, it becomes\nundermined and is suspected by everybody. You have heard, of course,\nwhat hot water Euripides got into, when he wrote at the beginning of his\n'Melanippe,'\n\n  'Zeus, whosoe'er he is, I do not know\n   Except by hearsay,'[85]\n\nbut if he changed the opening line, he had confidence, it seems, that\nhis play would go down with the public uncommonly well,[86] so he\naltered it into\n\n  'Zeus the divine, as he is truly called.'[87]\n\nAnd what difference is there between calling in question the received\nopinion about Zeus or Athene, and that about Love? For it is not now for\nthe first time that Love asks for an altar and sacrifices, nor is he a\nstrange god introduced by foreign superstition, as some Attis or Adonis,\nfurtively smuggled in by hermaphrodites and women, and secretly\nreceiving honours not his own, to avoid an indictment among the gods for\ncoming among them under false pretences. And when, my friend, you hear\nthe words of Empedocles,\n\n  'Friendship is there too, of same length and breadth,\n   But with the mind's eye only can you see it,\n   Till with the sight your very soul is thralled,'\n\nyou must suppose that they refer to Love. For this god is invisible, but\nto be extolled by us as one of the very oldest gods. And if you demand\nproofs about every one of the gods, laying a profane hand on every\ntemple, and bringing a learned doubt to every altar, you will scrutinize\nand pry into everything. But we need not go far to find Love's pedigree.\n\n  'See you how great a goddess Aphrodite is?\n   She 'tis that gave us and engendered Love,\n   Whereof come all that on the earth do live.'[88]\n\nAnd so Empedocles calls Aphrodite _Life-giving_,[89] and Sophocles calls\nher _Fruitful_, both very appropriate epithets. And though the wonderful\nact of generation belongs to Aphrodite only, and Love is only present in\nit as a subordinate, yet if he be absent the whole affair becomes\nundesirable, and low, and tame. For a loveless coition brings only\nsatiety, as the satisfaction of hunger and thirst, and has nothing noble\nresulting from it, whereas by Love Aphrodite removes the cloying element\nin pleasure, and produces harmonious friendship. And so Parmenides\ndeclares Love to be the oldest of the creations of Aphrodite, writing in\nhis Cosmogony,\n\n  'Of all the gods first Love she did contrive.'\n\nBut Hesiod, more naturally in my opinion, makes Love the most ancient of\nall, so that all things derive their existence from him.[90] If we then\ndeprive Love of his ancient honours, those of Aphrodite will be lost\nalso. For we cannot argue that, while some revile Love, all spare\nAphrodite, for on the same stage we hear of Love,\n\n  'Love is an idle thing and for the idle:'[91]\n\nand again of Aphrodite,\n\n  'Cypris, my boys, is not her only name,\n   For many names has she. She is a hell,\n   A power remorseless, nay a raging madness.'[92]\n\nJust as in the case of the other gods there is hardly one that has not\nbeen reviled, or escaped the scurrility of ignorance. Look, for example,\nat Ares, who may be considered as it were the counterpart of Love, what\nhonours he has received from men, and again what abuse, as\n\n  'Ares is blind, ye women, has no eyes,\n   And with his pig's snout roots up all good things.'[93]\n\nAnd Homer calls him 'blood-stained' and 'fickle.'[94] And Chrysippus\nbrings a grievous charge against him, in defining his name to mean\ndestroyer,[95] thereby giving a handle to those who think that Ares is\nonly the fighting, wrangling, and quarrelsome instinct among mankind.\nOthers again will tell us that Aphrodite is simply desire, and Hermes\neloquence, and the Muses the arts and sciences, and Athene wisdom. You\nsee what an abyss of impiety opens up before us, if we describe each of\nthe gods, as only a passion, a power, or a virtue!\"\n\nSec. XIV. \"I see it,\" said Pemptides, \"and it is impious either to make the\ngods passions, or to do just the contrary, and make the passions gods.\"\n\"What then?\" said my father, \"do you consider Ares a god, or only a\nhuman passion?\" And Pemptides, answering that he looked on Ares as god\nof the passionate and manly element in mankind, \"What,\" cried my father,\n\"shall the passionate and warlike and antagonistic instincts in man have\na god, but the affectionate and social and clubable have none? Shall\nAres, under his names of Enyalius and Stratius, preside over arms and\nwar and sieges and sacks of cities, and shall there be no god to witness\nand preside over, to direct and guide, conjugal affection, that\nfriendship of closest union and communion? Why even those who hunt\ngazelles and hares and deer have a silvan deity who harks and halloos\nthem on, for to Aristaeus[96] they pay their vows when in pitfalls and\nsnares they trap wolves and bears,\n\n  'For Aristaeus first set traps for animals.'\n\nAnd Hercules invoked another god, when he was about to shoot at the\nbird, as the line of AEschylus shows,\n\n  'Hunter Apollo, make my bolt go straight!'[97]\n\nAnd shall no god or good genius assist and prosper the man who hunts in\nthe best chase of all, the chase of friendship? For I cannot for my\npart, my dear Daphnaeus, consider man a less beautiful or important plant\nthan the oak, or sacred olive, or the vine which Homer glorifies,[98]\nseeing that man too has his growth and glorious prime alike of soul and\nbody.\"\n\nSec. XV. Then said Daphnaeus, \"In the name of the gods, who thinks\ndifferently?\" \"All those certainly must,\" answered my father, \"who think\nthat the gods care only about ploughing and planting and sowing. Have\nthey not Nymphs attending upon them, called Dryads, 'whose age is coeval\nwith the trees they live in: and Dionysus the mirth-giving does he not\nincrease the yield of the trees, the sacred splendour of Autumn,' as\nPindar says?[99] And if they care about all this, is there no god or\ngenius who is interested in the nurture and growth of boys and youths in\nall their glorious flower? is there no one that cares that the growing\nman may be upright and virtuous, and that the nobility of his nature may\nnot be warped and corrupted, either through want of a guardian or by the\ndepravity of those he associates with? Is it not monstrous and thankless\nto say so, seeing that we enjoy the divine bounty, which is dealt out to\nus richly, and never abandons us in our straits? And yet some of these\nsame straits have more necessity than beauty. For example, our birth, in\nspite of the unpleasant circumstances attending it, is witnessed by the\ndivine Ilithyia and Artemis: and it would be better not to be born at\nall than to become bad through want of a good guardian and guide.\nMoreover in sickness the god who is over that province does not desert\nus, nor even in death: for even then there is a conductor and guide for\nthe departed, to lay them to sleep, and convey their souls to\nHades,[100] as the poet says,\n\n  'Night bore me not to be lord of the lyre,\n   Nor to be seer, or healer of diseases,\n   But to conduct the souls of the departed.'\n\nAnd yet these duties involve much unpleasantness, whereas we cannot\nmention a holier work, nor any struggle or contest more fitting for a\ngod to attend and play the umpire in, than the guidance of the young and\nbeautiful in the prosecution of their love-affairs. For there is here\nnothing of an unpleasant nature, no compulsion of any kind, but\npersuasion and grace, truly making toil sweet and labour delightful,\nlead the way to virtue and friendship, and do not arrive at that desired\ngoal without the deity, for they have as their leader and lord no other\ngod than Love, the companion of the Muses and Graces and Aphrodite. For\nLove 'sowing in the heart of man the sweet harvest of desire,' to borrow\nthe language of Melanippides, mixes the sweetest and most beautiful\nthings together. But perhaps you are of a different opinion, Zeuxippus.\"\n\nSec. XVI. \"Not I, by Zeus,\" replied Zeuxippus. \"To have a different opinion\nwould be ridiculous.\" \"Then,\" continued my father, \"is it not also\nridiculous, if there are four kinds of friendship, for so the ancients\ndistinguished, the natural first, the second that to one's kindred, the\nthird that to one's companions, the fourth the friendship of love, and\neach of the first three have a god as patron, either a god of\nfriendship, or a god of hospitality, or a god of the family, or a god of\nthe race,[101] whereas the friendship of love only, as something\naltogether unholy, is left without any patron god, and that, too, when\nit needs most of all attentive direction?\" \"It is,\" said Zeuxippus,\n\"highly ridiculous.\" My father continued, \"The language of Plato is very\nsuggestive here, to make a slight digression. One kind of madness (he\nsays) is conveyed to the soul from the body through certain bad\ntemperaments or mixtures, or through the prevalence of some noxious\nspirit, and is harsh, difficult to cure, and baneful. Another kind of\nmadness is not uninspired or from within, but an afflatus from without,\na deviation from sober reason, originated and set in motion by some\nhigher power, the ordinary characteristic of which is called enthusiasm.\nFor, as one full of breath is called [Greek: empnoos], and as one full\nof sense is called [Greek: emphron], so the name enthusiasm is given to\nthe commotion of the soul caused by some Divine agency.[102] Thus there\nis the prophetic enthusiasm which proceeds from Apollo, and the Bacchic\nenthusiasm which comes from Dionysus, to which Sophocles alludes where\nhe says, 'Dance with the Corybantes;' for the rites of Cybele and Pan\nhave great affinities to the orgies of Bacchus. And the third madness\nproceeds from the Muses, and possesses an impressionable and pure soul,\nand stirs up the poetry and music in a man. As to the martial and\nwarlike madness, it is well known from what god it proceeds, namely,\nAres, 'kindling tearful war, that puts an end to the dance and the song,\nand exciting civic strife.'[103] There remains, Daphnaeus, one more kind\nof madness in man, neither obscure nor tranquil, as to which I should\nlike to ask Pemptides here,\n\n  'What god it is that shakes the fruitful thyrsus?'\n\nI refer to that love-fury for modest boys and chaste women, which is\nfar the keenest and fiercest passion of all. For have you not observed\nhow the soldier, when he lays aside his arms, ceases from his warlike\nfury, as the poet says,\n\n                        'Then from him\n  Right gladly did his squires remove the armour,'[104]\n\nand sits down a peaceful spectator of others?[105] The Bacchic and\nCorybantic dances one can also modulate and quell, by changing the metre\nfrom the trochaic and the measure from the Phrygian. Similarly, too, the\nPythian priestess, when she descends from her tripod, possesses her soul\nin peace. Whereas the love-fury, when once it has really seized on a man\nand inflamed him, can be laid by no Muse, no charm or incantation, no\nchange of place; but present they burn, absent they desire, by day they\nfollow their loves about, by night they serenade them, sober call for\nthem, and drunken sing about them. And he who said that poetic fancies,\nowing to their vividness, were dreams of people awake, would have more\ntruly spoken so of the fancies of lovers, who, as if their loves were\npresent, converse with them, greet them, chide them. For sight seems to\npaint all other fancies on a wet ground, so soon do they fade and recede\nfrom the memory, but the images of lovers, painted by the fancy as it\nwere on encaustic tiles, leave impressions on the memory, that move, and\nlive, and speak, and are permanent for all time. The Roman Cato, indeed,\nsaid that the soul of the lover resided in the soul of the loved one,\nand I should extend the remark to the appearance, the character, the\nlife, and the actions, conducted by which he travels a long journey in a\nshort time, as the Cynics say they have found a short cut and, as it\nwere, forced march to virtue, for there is also a short cut to\nfriendship and love when the god is propitious. To sum up, the\nenthusiasm of lovers is not a thing uninspired, and the god that guides\nand governs it is none other than the god whose festival we are now\nkeeping, and to whom we are now sacrificing. Nevertheless, as we judge\nof a god mainly from his power and usefulness (as among human advantages\nwe reckon and call these two the most divine, dominion and virtue), it\nis high time to consider, before we proceed any further, whether Love\nyields to any of the gods in power. Certainly, as Sophocles says,\n'Wonderful is the power which the Cyprian Queen exerts so as always to\nwin the victory:'[106] great also is the might of Ares; and in some sort\nwe see the power of all the other gods divided among these two; for\nAphrodite has most intimate connection with the beautiful, and Ares is\nin our souls from the first to combat against the sordid, to borrow the\nidea of Plato. Let us consider, then, to begin with, that the venereal\ndelight can be purchased for six obols, and that no one ever yet put\nhimself into any trouble or danger about it, unless he was in love. And\nnot to mention here such famous courtesans as Phryne or Lais,\nGnathaenium, 'kindling her lamp at evening time,' on the look-out for\nlovers and inviting them, is often passed by; 'yet, if some sudden whiff\narise' of mighty love and desire, it makes this very delight seem equal\nto the fabled wealth of Tantalus and his domains. So feeble and cloying\nis the venereal indulgence, if Love inspires it not. And you will see\nthis more plainly still from the following consideration. Many have\nallowed others to share in their venereal enjoyments, prostituting not\nonly their mistresses but their wives, like that Roman Galba, who used\nto ask Maecenas to dinner, and when he saw from his nods and winks that\nhe had a mind to do with his wife, turned his head gently aside as if\nasleep; but when one of his slaves came up to the table and stole some\nwine, his eyes were wide open enough, and he said, 'Villain, don't you\nknow that I am asleep only for Maecenas?'[107] But this is not perhaps so\nstrange, considering Galba was a buffoon. But at Argos Nicostratus and\nPhayllus were great political rivals: so when King Philip visited that\ncity, Phayllus thought if he prostituted his wife, who was very\nhandsome, to the King, he would get from him some important office or\nplace. And Nicostratus getting wind of this, and walking about the doors\nof Phayllus' house with some of his servants on the _qui vive_,\nPhayllus made his wife put on men's boots, and a military cloak, and a\nMacedonian broad-brimmed hat, and so smuggled her into the King, without\nbeing detected, as one of the King's young men. But, of all the\nmultitude of lovers, did you ever hear of one that prostituted his\nboy-love even for the honours of Zeus? I think not. Why, though no one\nwill generally either speak or act against tyrants, many will who find\nthem their rivals and are jealous about their handsome minions. You must\nhave heard how Aristogiton of Athens, and Antileon of Metapontum, and\nMelanippus of Agrigentum, rose not against tyrants, although they saw\nhow badly they managed affairs, and what drunken tricks they played,\nyet, when they attempted the chastity of their boy-loves, they\nretaliated on them, jeoparding their lives, as if they were defending\nthe inviolability of temples and sanctuaries. It is also recorded that\nAlexander wrote to Theodoras, the brother of Proteas, 'Send me your\nsinging-girl, unless you love her yourself, and I will give you ten\ntalents;' and when Antipatridas, one of his companions, came to revel\nwith him, bringing with him a female harper, he fancied the girl not a\nlittle, and asked Antipatridas if he cared very much about her. And when\nhe replied that he did immensely, Alexander said, 'Plague take you,' but\nnevertheless abstained from touching the girl.\n\nSec. XVII. \"Consider also how Love excels in warlike feats, and is by no\nmeans idle, as Euripides called him,[108] nor a carpet-knight, nor\n'sleeping on a maiden's soft cheeks.'[109] For a man inspired by Love\nneeds not Ares to help him when he goes out as a warrior against the\nenemy, but at the bidding of his own god is 'ready' for his friend 'to\ngo through fire and water and whirlwinds.' And in Sophocles' play,[110]\nwhen the sons of Niobe are being shot at and dying, one of them calls\nout for no helper or assister but his lover. And you know of course how\nit was that Cleomachus the Pharsalian fell in battle?\" \"We certainly\ndon't,\" said Pemptides and those near him, \"but we should very much like\nto.\" \"Well,\" said my father, \"the tale's worth hearing. When the war\nbetween the Eretrians and Chalcidians was at its height, Cleomachus had\ncome to aid the latter with a Thessalian force; and the Chalcidian\ninfantry seemed strong enough, but they had great difficulty in\nrepelling the enemy's cavalry. So they begged that high-souled hero\nCleomachus to charge the Eretrian cavalry first. And he asked his\nboy-love, who was by, if he would be a spectator of the fight, and he\nsaying he would, and affectionately kissing him and putting his helmet\non his head, Cleomachus with a proud joy put himself at the head of the\nbravest of the Thessalians, and charged the enemy's cavalry with such\nimpetuosity that he threw them into disorder and routed them; and the\nEretrian infantry also fleeing in consequence, the Chalcidians won a\nsplendid victory. However, Cleomachus got killed, and they show his tomb\nin the market-place at Chalcis, over which a huge pillar stands to this\nday, and whereas before that the people of Chalcis had censured\nboy-loves, from that time forward they preferred that kind of love to\nthe normal love. Aristotle gives a slightly different account, namely,\nthat this Cleomachus came not from Thessaly, but from Chalcis in Thrace,\nto the help of the Chalcidians in Euboea; and that that was the origin\nof the song in vogue among the Chalcidians,\n\n  'Ye boys, who come of noble sires and beauteous are in face,\n   Grudge not to give to valiant men the joy of your embrace:\n   For Love that does the limbs relax combined with bravery\n   In the Chalcidian cities has fame that ne'er shall die.'\n\nBut according to the account of the poet Dionysius, in his\n'Causes,'[111] the name of the lover was Anton, and that of the boy-love\nwas Philistus. And among you Thebans, Pemptides, is it not usual for the\nlover to give his boy-love a complete suit of armour when he is enrolled\namong the men? And did not the erotic Pammenes change the disposition of\nthe heavy-armed infantry, censuring Homer as knowing nothing about love,\nbecause he drew up the Achaeans in order of battle in tribes and clans,\nand did not put lover and love together, that so\n\n  'Spear should be next to spear, helmet to helmet,'[112]\n\nseeing that Love is the only invincible general.[113] For men in battle\nwill leave in the lurch clansmen and friends, aye, and parents and sons,\nbut what warrior ever broke through or charged through lover and love,\nseeing that even when there is no necessity lovers frequently display\ntheir bravery and contempt of life. As Thero the Thessalian, who put his\nleft hand on a wall, and drew his sword, and chopped off his thumb, and\nchallenged his rival to do the same. And another in battle falling on\nhis face, as his enemy was about to give him the _coup-de-grace_, begged\nhim to wait a little till he could turn round, that his love should not\nsee him with a wound in his back. And not only are the most warlike\nnations most amorous, as the Boeotians the Lacedaemonians and the\nCretans, but also of the old heroes, who were more amorous than\nMeleager, Achilles, Aristomenes, Cimon, and Epaminondas. Why,\nEpaminondas had as his boy-loves Asopichus and Cephisodorus, the latter\nof whom fell with him at Mantinea, and is buried near him. As to ...,\nwho was most formidable and a source of terror to the enemy, Eucnamus of\nAmphissa, who first stood up against him and smote him, received hero\nhonours from the Phocians for his exploit. And as to all the loves of\nHercules, it would take up too much time to enumerate them, but those\nwho think that Iolaus was one of them do up to this day worship and\nhonour him, and make their loves swear fidelity at his tomb. Hercules is\nalso said, having understood the art of healing, to have preserved the\nlife of Alcestis, when she was given up by the doctors, to gratify\nAdmetus, who passionately loved his wife, and was Hercules' minion. They\nsay also in legend that Apollo was enamoured of Admetus,\n\n  'And was his hired slave for one long year.'\n\nIt was a happy thought our remembering Alcestis, for though women have\nnot much of Ares in them, yet when possessed by Love they are bold even\nto the death, beyond what one would expect from their nature. For if we\nmay credit legendary lore, the stories about Alcestis, and Protesilaus,\nand Eurydice the wife of Orpheus, show that the only one of the gods\nthat Hades pays attention to is Love; although to everybody else, as\nSophocles says, \"he knows of no forbearance or favour, or anything but\nstrict justice;\" yet before lovers his genius stands rebuked, and they\nalone find him neither implacable nor relentless. Wherefore although, my\nfriend, it is an excellent thing to be initiated in the Eleusinian\nmysteries, yet I see that the votaries and initiated of Love have a\nbetter time of it in Hades than they have, * *[114] though in regard to\nlegendary lore I stand in the position of one who neither altogether\nbelieves nor altogether disbelieves. For legendary lore speaks well, and\nby a certain wonderful good fortune lights upon the truth, in saying\nthat lovers have a return from Hades to the light of day, but it knows\nnot by what way or how, having as it were got benighted on the road\nwhich Plato first discovered by philosophy. There are, indeed, some\nslender and obscure particles of truth scattered about in the mythology\nof the Egyptians, but they require a clever man to hunt them out, a man\ncapable of getting great results from small data. Wherefore let that\nmatter pass. And now next to the mighty power of Love let us consider\nits good will and favour to mankind, I do not mean as to whether it\nbestows many gifts on its votaries--that is palpable to all--but whether\nthey derive any further advantage from it. For Euripides, though very\namorous, admired a very small matter, when he wrote the line--\n\n  'Love teaches letters to a man unlearn'd.'[115]\n\nFor it makes one previously sluggish quick and intelligent, and, as has\nbeen said before, it makes the coward brave, as people harden wood in\nthe fire and make it strong from being weak. And every lover becomes\nliberal and genuine and generous, even if he was mean before, his\nlittleness and miserliness melting away like iron in the fire, so that\nthey rejoice to give to their loves more than they do to receive\nthemselves from others. You know of course that Anytus, the son of\nAnthemion, was in love with Alcibiades, and was on one occasion\nsumptuously entertaining several of his friends, when Alcibiades broke\nin and took from the table half the cups and went away again; and when\nsome of the guests were indignant and said, 'The stripling has used you\nmost insolently and contemptuously,' Anytus replied, 'Nay, rather, he\nhas dealt kindly with me, for when he might have taken all he has left\nme half.'\"\n\nSec. XVIII. Zeuxippus was pleased with this story, and said, \"O Hercules,\nyou have been within an ace of making me forget my hereditary hatred to\nAnytus for his behaviour to Socrates and philosophy,[116] since he was\nso mild and noble to his love.\" \"Be it so,\" said my father, \"Love also\nmakes peevish and gloomy persons kind and agreeable to those they live\nwith; for as 'when the fire blazes the house looks brighter,'[117] so\nman, it seems, becomes more cheerful through the heat of love. But most\npeople are affected rather curiously; if they see by night a light in a\nhouse, they look on it with admiration and wonder; but if they see a\nlittle, mean, and ignoble soul suddenly filled with noble-mindedness,\nfreedom, dignity, grace, and liberality, they do not feel constrained to\nsay with Telemachus, 'Surely, some god is there within.'[118] And is it\nnot wonderful, Daphnaeus,\" continued my father,[119] \"in the name of the\nGraces, that the lover who cares about hardly anything, either his\ncompanions and friends, or even the laws and magistrates and kings, who\nfears nothing, admires nothing, courts nothing, but can even endure to\ngaze on 'the forked lightning,'[120] yet directly he looks on his love\n'he crouches like a cock with drooping feathers,' and his boldness is\nbroken and his pride is cowed. And among the Muses it would not be\namiss to mention Sappho; for as the Romans say Cacus the son of\nHephaestus vomited out of his mouth fire and flames, so she really speaks\nwords that burn like fire, and in her songs shows the warmth of her\nheart, as Philoxenus puts it, 'by euphonious songs assuaging the pains\nof love.' And if you have not in your love for Lysandra forgot all your\nold love-songs, do repeat to us, Daphnaeus, the lines in which beautiful\nSappho says that 'when her love appeared her voice failed and her body\nburned, and she was seized with paleness and trembling and vertigo.'\"\nAnd when Daphnaeus had repeated the lines, my father resumed, \"In the\nname of Zeus, is not this plainly a divine seizure? Is not this a\nwonderful commotion of soul? Why, the Pythian priestess on the tripod is\nnot moved so much as this! Who of those inspired by Cybele are made\nbeside themselves to this extent by the flute and the kettledrum?\nMoreover, while many see the same body and the same beauty, only the\nlover is taken by it. Why is this the case? We get no light on it from\nMenander's words, 'Love is opportunity; and he that is smitten is the\nonly one wounded.' But the god is the cause of it, striking one and\nletting another go scot-free. But I will not pass over now, 'since it\nhas come into my mouth,' as AEschylus says, what perhaps would have been\nbetter spoken before, for it is a very important point. Perhaps, my\nfriend, of all other things which we do not perceive through the senses,\nsome got believed through legend, some through the law, some through\nreason; whereas we owe our conception of the gods altogether to the\npoets and legislators and philosophers: all alike teaching the existence\nof gods, but greatly differing as to their number and order, nature and\npower. For the gods of the philosophers 'know nothing of disease or old\nage or pain, and have not to cross the resounding Acheron;' nor do the\nphilosophers accept as gods Strifes, or Prayers, which are found in\npoetry;[121] nor will they admit Terror and Fear as gods or as the sons\nof Ares. And on many points also they are at variance with the\nlegislators, as Xenophanes bade the Egyptians, if they regarded Osiris\nas mortal, not to honour him as a god; but if they thought him a god not\nto mourn for him. And, again, the poets and legislators will not listen\nto, nor can they understand, the philosophers who make gods of ideas and\nnumbers and units and spirits. And their views generally are very\ndifferent. As there were formerly three parties at Athens, the Parali,\nthe Epacrii, and the Pediei, all at variance with one another, yet all\nagreed to vote for Solon, and chose him with one accord as their\nmediator and ruler and lawgiver, as he seemed indisputably to hold the\nfirst place in merit; so the three parties that entertain different\nviews about the gods are all unanimous on one point, for poets\nlegislators and philosophers all alike register Love as one of the gods,\n'loudly singing his praises with one voice,' as Alcaeus says the people\nof Mitylene chose Pittacus as their monarch. But our king and ruler and\ngovernor, Love, is brought down crowned from Helicon to the Academy by\nHesiod and Plato and Solon, and in royal apparel rides in a chariot\ndrawn by friendship and intimacy (not such as Euripides speaks of in the\nline, 'he has been bound in fetters not of brass,'[122] shamefully\nthrowing round him cold and heavy necessity), and soars aloft to the\nmost beautiful and divine things, about which others have spoken better\nthan I can.\"\n\nSec. XIX. When my father had spoken thus much, Soclarus began, \"Do you see\nthat a second time you have committed the same fault, not cancelling\nyour debts as you ought to do--for I must speak my mind--but evading\nthem on purpose, and not delivering to us your promised ideas on a\nsacred subject? For as some little time back you only just touched on\nPlato and the Egyptians as if unwilling to enter on the subject more\nfully, so now you are doing again. However, as to what has been\n'eloquently told'[123] by Plato, or rather by the Muses through Plato's\nmouth, do not tell us that, my good friend, even if we ask for it; but\nas to your hint that the Egyptian legend about Love corresponded with\nPlato's views, you need not discuss it fully and minutely, we shall be\nsatisfied if we hear a little of such mighty matters.\" And as the rest\nof the company made the same request, my father said, \"The Egyptians,\n(like the Greeks) recognize two Loves, the Pandemian and the Celestial,\nto which they add the Sun, they also highly venerate Aphrodite. We also\nsee much similarity between Love and the Sun, for neither is a fire, as\nsome think, but a sweet and productive radiance and warmth, the Sun\nbringing to the body nourishment and light and growth, and Love doing\nthe same to the soul. And as the heat of the Sun is more powerful when\nit emerges from clouds and after mist, so Love is sweeter and hotter\nafter a jealous tiff with the loved one,[124] and moreover, as some\nthink the Sun is kindled and extinguished, so also do people conceive of\nLove as mortal and uncertain. Moreover, just as without training the\nbody cannot easily bear the heat of the Sun, so neither can the\nuntrained soul easily bear the yoke of Love, but both are equally out of\ntune and suffer, for which they blame the deity and not their own\nweakness. But in this respect they seem to differ, in that the Sun\nexhibits to the eye things beautiful and ugly alike, whereas Love throws\nits light only on beautiful things, and persuades lovers to concentrate\ntheir attention on these, and to neglect all other things. As to those\nthat call Aphrodite the Moon, they, too, find some points in common\nbetween them; for the Moon is divine and heavenly and a sort of\nhalfway-house between mortal and immortal, but inactive in itself and\ndark without the presence of the Sun, as is the case with Aphrodite in\nthe absence of Love. So we may say that Aphrodite resembles the Moon,\nand Love the Sun, more than any other deities, yet are not Love and the\nSun altogether the same, for just as body and soul are not the same, but\nsomething different, so is it with the Sun and Love, the former can be\nseen, the latter only felt. And if it should not seem too harsh a\nsaying, one might argue that the Sun acts entirely opposite to Love, for\nit turns the mind away from the world of fancy to the world of reality,\nbeguiling us by its grace and splendid appearance, and persuading us to\nseek for truth and everything else in and round it and nowhere else. For\nas Euripides says,\n\n  'Too passionately do we love the Sun,\n   Because it always shines upon the earth,\n   From inexperience of another life,'[125]\n\nor rather from forgetfulness of those things which Love brings to our\nremembrance. For as when we are woke by a great and bright light,\neverything that the soul has seen in dreams is vanished and fled, so the\nSun is wont to banish the remembrance of past changes and chances, and\nto bewitch the intelligence, pleasure and admiration causing this\nforgetfulness. And though reality is really there, yet the soul cleaves\nto dreams and is dazzled by what is most beautiful and divine. 'For\nround the soul are poured sweet yet deceiving dreams,' so that the soul\nthinks everything here good and valuable, unless it obtain divine and\nchaste Love as its physician and preserver. For Love brings the soul\nthrough the body to truth and the region of truth, where pure and\nguileless beauty is to be found, kindly befriending its votaries like an\ninitiator at the mysteries. And it associates with the soul only through\nthe body. And as geometricians, in the case of boys who cannot yet be\ninitiated into the perception of incorporeal and impassive substance,\nconvey their ideas through the medium of spheres, cubes, and\ndodecahedrons, so celestial Love has contrived beautiful mirrors of\nbeautiful things, and exhibits them to us glittering in the shapes\ncolours and appearances of youths in all their flower, and calmly stirs\nthe memory which is inflamed first by these. Consequently some, through\nthe stupidity of their friends and intimates, who have endeavoured by\nforce and against reason to extinguish the flame, have got no advantage\nfrom it, but filled themselves with smoke and confusion, or have rushed\ninto secret and lawless pleasures and ingloriously wasted their prime.\nBut as many as by sober reason and modesty have abated the extravagance\nof the passion, and left in the soul only a bright glow--not exciting a\ntornado of passion, but a wonderful and productive diffusion, as in a\ngrowing plant, opening the pores of complaisance and friendliness--these\nin no long time cease to regard the personal charms of those they love,\nand study their inward characters, and gaze at one another with\nunveiled eyes, and associate with one another in words and actions, if\nthey find in their minds any fragment or image of the beautiful; and if\nnot they bid them farewell and turn to others, like bees that only go to\nthose flowers from which they can get honey. But wherever they find any\ntrace or emanation or pleasing resemblance of the divine, in an ecstasy\nof pleasure and delight they indulge their memory, and revive to\nwhatever is truly lovely and felicitous and admired by everybody.\"\n\nSec. XX. \"The poets indeed seem for the most part to have written and sung\nabout Love in a playful and merry manner, but have sometimes spoken\nseriously about him, whether out of their own mind, or the god helping\nthem to truth. Among these are the lines about his birth,\n'Well-sandalled Iris bare the most powerful of the gods to golden-haired\nZephyr.'[126] But perhaps the learned have persuaded you that these\nlines are only a fanciful illustration of the variety and beauty of\nlove.\" \"Certainly,\" said Daphnaeus, \"what else could they mean?\" \"Hear\nme,\" said my father, \"for the heavenly phenomenon compels us so to\nspeak. The rainbow[127] is, I suppose, a reflection caused by the sun's\nrays falling on a moist cloud, making us think the appearance is in the\ncloud. Similarly erotic fancy in the case of noble souls causes a\nreflection of the memory, from things which here appear and are called\nbeautiful, to what is really divine and lovely and felicitous and\nwonderful. But most lovers pursuing and groping after the semblance of\nbeauty in boys and women, as in mirrors,[128] can derive nothing more\ncertain than pleasure mixed with pain. And this seems the love-delirium\nof Ixion, who instead of the joy he desired embraced only a cloud, as\nchildren who desire to take the rainbow into their hands, clutching at\nwhatever they see. But different is the behaviour of the noble and\nchaste lover: for he reflects on the divine beauty that can only be\nfelt, while he uses the beauty of the visible body only as an organ of\nthe memory, though he embraces it and loves it, and associating with it\nis still more inflamed in mind. And so neither in the body do they sit\never gazing at and desiring this light, nor after death do they return\nto this world again, and skulk and loiter about the doors and\nbedchambers of newly-married people, disagreeable ghosts of\npleasure-loving and sensual men and women, who do not rightly deserve\nthe name of lovers. For the true lover, when he has got into the other\nworld and associated with beauties as much as is lawful, has wings and\nis initiated and passes his time above in the presence of his Deity,\ndancing and waiting upon him, until he goes back to the meadows of the\nMoon and Aphrodite, and sleeping there commences a new existence. But\nthis is a subject too high for the present occasion. However, it is with\nLove as with the other gods, to borrow the words of Euripides, 'he\nrejoices in being honoured by mankind,'[129] and _vice versa_, for he is\nmost propitious to those that receive him properly, but visits his\ndispleasure on those that affront him. For neither does Zeus as god of\nHospitality punish and avenge any outrages on strangers or suppliants,\nnor as god of the family fulfil the curses of parents, as quickly as\nLove hearkens to lovers unfairly treated, being the chastiser of boorish\nand haughty persons. Why need I mention the story of Euxynthetus and\nLeucomantis, the latter of whom is called The Peeping Girl to this day\nin Cyprus? But perhaps you have not heard of the punishment of the\nCretan Gorgo, a somewhat similar case to that of Leucomantis, except\nthat she was turned into stone as she peeped out of window to see her\nlover carried out to burial. For this Gorgo had a lover called Asander,\na proper young man and of a good family, but reduced in fortune, though\nhe thought himself worthy to mate with anybody. So he wooed Gorgo, being\na relation of hers, and though he had many rivals, as she was much run\nafter for her wealth belike, yet he had won the esteem of all the\nguardians and relations of the young girl.[130] * * * *\n\nSec. XXI. * * * Now the origins and causes of Love are not peculiar to\neither sex, but common to both. For those attractions that make men\namorous may as well proceed from women as from boys.[131] And as to\nthose beautiful and holy reminiscences and invitations to the divine and\ngenuine and Olympian beauty, by which the soul soars aloft, what hinders\nbut that they may come either from boys or lads, maidens or grown women,\nwhenever a chaste and orderly nature and beauteous prime are associated\ntogether (just as a neat shoe exhibits the shapeliness of the foot, to\nborrow the illustration of Aristo), whenever connoisseurs of beauty\ndescry in beautiful forms and pure bodies clear traces of an upright and\nunenervated soul.[132] For if[133] the man of pleasure, who was asked\nwhether \"he was most given to the love of women or boys,\" and answered,\n\"I care not which so beauty be but there,\" is considered to have given\nan appropriate answer as to his erotic desires, shall the noble lover of\nbeauty neglect beauty and nobility of nature, and make love only with an\neye to the sexual parts? Why, the lover of horses will take just as much\npleasure in the good points of Podargus, as in those of AEthe,\nAgamemnon's mare,[134] and the sportsman rejoices not only in dogs, but\nalso rears Cretan and Spartan bitches,[135] and shall the lover of the\nbeautiful and of humanity be unfair and deal unequally with either sex,\nand think that the difference between the loves of boys and women is\nonly their different dress? And yet they say that beauty is a flower of\nvirtue; and it is ridiculous to assert that the female sex never\nblossoms nor make a goodly show of virtue, for as AEschylus truly says,\n\n  'I never can mistake the burning eye\n   Of the young woman that has once known man.'[136]\n\nShall the indications then of a forward wanton and corrupt character be\nfound in the faces of women, and shall there be no gleam of chastity and\nmodesty in their appearance? Nay, there are many such, and shall they\nnot move and provoke love? To doubt it would be neither sensible nor in\naccordance with the facts, for generally speaking, as has been pointed\nout, all these attractions are the same in both sexes.... But, Daphnaeus,\nlet us combat those views which Zeuxippus lately advanced, making Love\nto be only irregular desire carrying the soul away to licentiousness,\nnot that this was so much his own view as what he had often heard from\nmorose men who knew nothing of love: some of whom marry unfortunate\nwomen for their dowries, and force on them economy and illiberal saving,\nand quarrel with them every day of their lives: while others, more\ndesirous of children than wives, when they have made those women they\ncome across mothers, bid farewell to marriage, or regard it not at all,\nand neither care to love nor be loved. Now the fact that the word for\nconjugal love differs only by one letter from the word for endurance,\nthe one being [Greek: stergein] the other [Greek: stegein], seems to\nemphasize the conjugal kindness mixed by time and intimacy with\nnecessity. But that marriage which Love has inspired will in the first\nplace, as in Plato's Republic, know nothing of _Meum_ and _Tuum_, for\nthe proverb, 'whatever belongs to a friend is common property,'[137] is\nespecially true of married persons who, though disunited in body, are\nperforce one in soul, neither wishing to be two, nor thinking themselves\nso. In the second place there will be mutual respect, which is a vital\nnecessity in marriage. For as to that external respect which has in it\nmore of compulsion than choice, being forced by the law and shame and\nfear,\n\n  \"Those needful bits and curbs to headstrong weeds,\"[138]\n\nthat will always exist in wedlock. But in Love there is such\nself-control and decorum and constancy, that if the god but once enter\nthe soul of a licentious man, he makes him give up all his amours,\nabates his pride, and breaks down his haughtiness and dissoluteness,\nputting in their place modesty and silence and tranquillity and decorum,\nand makes him constant to one. You have heard of course of the famous\ncourtesan Lais,[139] how she set all Greece on fire with her charms, or\nrather was contended for by two seas,[140] and how, when she fell in\nlove with Hippolochus the Thessalian, 'she left Acro-Corinthus washed by\nthe green sea,'[141] and deserted all her other lovers, that great army,\nand went off to Thessaly and lived faithful to Hippolochus. But the\nwomen there, envious and jealous of her for her surpassing beauty,\ndragged her into the temple of Aphrodite, and there stoned her to death,\nfor which reason probably it is called to this day the temple of\nAphrodite the Murderess.[142] We have also heard of servant girls who\nhave refused the embraces of their masters, and of private individuals\nwho have scorned an amour with queens, when Love has had dominion in\ntheir hearts. For as in Rome, when a dictator is proclaimed, all other\nmagistrates lay down their offices, so those over whom Love is lord are\nfree henceforward from all other lords and masters, and pass the rest of\ntheir lives dedicate to the god and slaves in his temple. For a noble\nwoman united by Love to her lawful husband would prefer the embraces of\nbears and dragons to those of any other man.\"\n\nSec. XXII. \"Although there are plenty of examples of this virtue of\nconstancy, yet to you, that are the festive votaries of the god,[143] it\nwill not be amiss to relate the story of the Galatian Camma. She was a\nwoman of most remarkable beauty, and the wife of the tetrarch Sinatus,\nwhom Sinorix, one of the most influential men in Galatia, and\ndesperately in love with Camma, murdered, as he could neither get her by\nforce or persuasion in the lifetime of her husband. And Camma found a\nrefuge and comfort in her grief in discharging the functions of\nhereditary priestess to Artemis, and most of her time she spent in her\ntemple, and, though many kings and potentates wooed her, she refused\nthem all. But when Sinorix boldly proposed marriage to her, she declined\nnot his offer, nor blamed him for what he had done, as though she\nthought he had only murdered Sinatus out of excessive love for her, and\nnot in sheer villany. He came, therefore, with confidence, and asked her\nhand, and she met him and greeted him and led him to the altar of the\ngoddess, and pledged him in a cup of poisoned mead, drinking half of it\nherself and giving him the rest. And when she saw that he had drunk it\nup, she shouted aloud for joy, and calling upon the name of her dead\nhusband, said, 'Till this day, dearest husband, I have lived, deprived\nof you, a life of sorrow: but now take me to yourself with joy, for I\nhave avenged you on the worst of men, as glad to share death with him as\nlife with you.' Then Sinorix was removed out of the temple on a litter,\nand soon after gave up the ghost, and Camma lived the rest of that day\nand following night, and is said to have died with a good courage and\neven with gaiety.\"[144]\n\nSec. XXIII. \"As many similar examples might be adduced, both among\nourselves and foreigners, who can feel any patience with those that\nreproach Aphrodite with hindering friendship when she associates herself\nwith Love as a partner? Whereas any reflecting person would call the\nlove of boys wanton and gross lasciviousness, and say with the poet:\n\n  'This is an outrage, not an act of love.'\n\nAll willing pathics, therefore, we consider the vilest of mankind, and\ncredit them with neither fidelity, nor modesty, nor friendship, for as\nSophocles says:\n\n  'Those who shall lose such friends may well be glad,\n   And those who have such pray that they may lose them,'[145]\n\nBut as for those who, not being by nature vicious, have been seduced or\nforced, they are apt all their life to despise and hate their seducers,\nand when an opportunity has presented itself to take fierce vengeance.\nAs Crateus, who murdered Archelaus, and Pytholaus, who murdered\nAlexander of Pherae. And Periander, the tyrant of the Ambraciotes,\nhaving asked a most insulting question of his minion, was murdered by\nhim, so exasperated was he. But with women and wives all this is the\nbeginning of friendship, and as it were an initiation into the sacred\nmysteries. And pleasure plays a very small part in this, but the esteem\nand favour and mutual love and constancy that result from it, proves\nthat the Delphians did not talk nonsense in giving the name of Arma[146]\nto Aphrodite, nor Homer in giving the name of friendship[147] to sexual\nlove, and testifies to the fact that Solon was a most experienced\nlegislator in conjugal matters, seeing that he ordered husbands not less\nthan thrice a month to associate with their wives, not for pleasure, but\nas states at certain intervals renew their treaties with one another, so\nhe wished that by such friendliness marriage should, as it were, be\nrenewed after any intervening tiffs and differences. But you will tell\nme there is much folly and even madness in the love of women. Is there\nnot more extravagance in the love of boys?\n\n  'Seeing my many rivals I grow faint.\n   The lad is beardless, smooth and soft and handsome,\n   O that I might in his embraces die,\n   And have the fact recorded on my tomb.'\n\nSuch extravagant language as this is madness not love. And it is absurd\nto detract from woman's various excellence. Look at their self-restraint\nand intelligence, their fidelity and uprightness, and that bravery\ncourage and magnanimity so conspicuous in many! And to say that they\nhave a natural aptitude for all other virtues, but are deficient as\nregards friendship alone, is monstrous. For they are fond of their\nchildren and husbands, and generally speaking the natural affection in\nthem is not only, like a fruitful soil, capable of friendship, but is\nalso accompanied by persuasion and other graces. And as poetry gives to\nwords a kind of relish by melody and metre and rhythm, making\ninstruction thereby more interesting, but what is injurious more\ninsidious, so nature, investing woman with beautiful appearance and\nattractive voice and bewitching figure, does much for a licentious woman\nin making her wiles more formidable, but makes a modest one more apt\nthereby to win the goodwill and friendship of her husband. And as Plato\nadvised Xenocrates, a great and noble man in all other respects, but too\naustere in his temperament, to sacrifice to the Graces, so one might\nrecommend a good and modest woman to sacrifice to Love, that her husband\nmight be a mild and agreeable partner, and not run after any other\nwoman, so as to be compelled to say like the fellow in the comedy, 'What\na wretch I am to ill-treat such a woman!' For to love in marriage is far\nbetter than to be loved, for it prevents many, nay all, of those\noffences which spoil and mar marriage.\n\nSec. XXIV. As to the passionate affection in the early days of\nmarriage,[148] my dear Zeuxippus, do not fear that it will leave any\nsore or irritation, though it is not wonderful that there should be some\nfriction at the commencement of union with a virtuous woman, just as at\nthe grafting of trees, as there is also pain at the beginning of\nconception, for there can be no complete union without some suffering.\nLearning puts boys out somewhat when they first go to school, as\nphilosophy does young men at a later day, but the ill effects are not\nlasting, either in their cases or in the case of lovers. As in the\nfusion of two liquors, love does indeed at first cause a simmering and\ncommotion, but eventually cools down and settles and becomes tranquil.\nFor the union of lovers is indeed a complete union, whereas the union of\nthose that live together without love resembles only the friction and\nconcussion of Epicurus' atoms in collision and recoil, forming no such\nunion as Love makes, when he presides over the conjugal state. For\nnothing else produces so much pleasure, or such lasting advantages, or\nsuch beautiful remarkable and desirable friendship,\n\n  'As when husband and wife live in one house,\n   Two souls beating as one.'[149]\n\nAnd the law gives its countenance, and nature shows that even the gods\nthemselves require love for the production of everything. Thus the poets\ntell us that 'the earth loves a shower, and heaven loves the earth,' and\nthe natural philosophers tell us that the sun is in love with the moon,\nand that they are husband and wife, and that the earth is the mother of\nman and beast and the producer of all plants. Would not the world itself\nthen of necessity come to an end, if the great god Love and the desires\nimplanted by the god should leave matter, and matter should cease to\nyearn for and pursue its lead? But not to seem to wander too far away\nand altogether to trifle, you know that many censure boy-loves for their\ninstability, and jeeringly say that that intimacy like an egg is\ndestroyed by a hair,[150] for that boy-lovers like Nomads, spending the\nsummer in a blooming and flowery country, at once decamp then as from an\nenemy's territory. And still more vulgarly Bion the Sophist called the\nsprouting beards of beautiful boys Harmodiuses and Aristogitons,[151]\ninasmuch as lovers were delivered by them from a pleasant tyranny. But\nthis charge cannot justly be brought against genuine lovers, and it was\nprettily said by Euripides, as he embraced and kissed handsome Agatho\nwhose beard was just sprouting, that the Autumn of beautiful youths was\nlovely as well as the Spring. And I maintain that the love of beautiful\nand chaste wives flourishes not only in old age amid grey hairs and\nwrinkles, but even in the grave and monument. And while there are few\nsuch long unions in the case of boy-loves, one might enumerate ten\nthousand such instances of the love of women, who have kept their\nfidelity to the end of their lives. One such case I will relate, which\nhappened in my time in the reign of the Emperor Vespasian.\n\nSec. XXV. Julius, who stirred up a revolt in Galatia, among several other\nconfederates had one Sabinus, a young man of good family, and for wealth\nand renown the most conspicuous of all the men in those parts. But\nhaving attempted what was too much for them they were foiled, and\nexpecting to pay the penalty, some committed suicide, others fled and\nwere captured. Now Sabinus himself could easily have got out of the way\nand made his escape to the barbarians, but he had married a most\nexcellent wife, whose name in that part of the world was Empone, but in\nGreek would be Herois, and he could neither leave her behind nor take\nher with him. As he had in the country some underground caves, known\nonly to two of his freedmen, where he used to stow away things, he\ndismissed all the rest of his slaves, as if he intended to poison\nhimself, and taking with him these two trusty freedmen he descended with\nthem into those underground caves, and sent one of them, Martialis, to\ntell his wife that he had poisoned himself, and that his body was burnt\nin the flames of his country-house, for he wanted his wife's genuine\nsorrow to lend credit to the report of his death. And so it happened.\nFor she, throwing herself on to the ground, groaned and wailed for three\ndays and nights, and took no food. And Sabinus, being informed of this,\nand fearing that she would die of grief, told Martialis to inform her\nsecretly that he was alive and well and in hiding, and to beg her not to\nrelax her show of grief, but to keep up the farce. And she did so with\nthe genius of a professional actress, but yearning to see her husband\nshe visited him by night, and returned without being noticed, and for\nsix or seven months she lived with him this underground life. And she\ndisguised him by changing his dress, and cutting off his beard, and\nre-arranging his hair, so that he should not be known, and took him to\nRome, having some hopes of obtaining his pardon. But being unsuccessful\nin this she returned to her own country, and spent most of her time with\nher husband underground, but from time to time visited the town, and\nshowed herself to some ladies who were her friends and relations. But\nwhat is most astonishing of all is that, though she bathed with them,\nshe concealed her pregnancy from them. For the dye which women use to\nmake their hair a golden auburn, has a tendency to produce corpulence\nand flesh and a full habit, and she rubbed this abundantly over all\nparts of her body, and so concealed her pregnancy. And she bare the\npangs of travail by herself, as a lioness bears her whelps, having hid\nherself in the cave with her husband, and there she gave birth to two\nboys, one of whom died in Egypt, the other, whose name was Sabinus, was\namong us only the other day at Delphi. Vespasian eventually put her to\ndeath, but paid the penalty for it, his whole progeny in a short time\nbeing wiped off the face of the earth.[152] For during the whole of his\nreign he did no more savage act, nor could gods or demons have turned\naway their eyes from a crueller sight. And yet her courage and bold\nlanguage abated the pity of the spectators, though it exasperated\nVespasian, for, despairing of her safety, she bade them go and tell the\nEmperor, 'that it was sweeter to live in darkness and underground than\nto wear his crown.'\"[153]\n\nSec. XXVI. Here my father said that the conversation about Love which took\nplace at Thespiae ended. And at this moment Diogenes, one of Pisias'\ncompanions, was noticed coming up at a faster pace than walking. And\nwhile he was yet a little way off, Soclarus hailed him with, \"You don't\nannounce war, Diogenes,\" and he replied, \"Hush! it is a marriage; come\nwith me quickly, for the sacrifice only waits for you.\" All were\ndelighted, and Zeuxippus asked if Pisias was still against the marriage.\n\"As he was first to oppose it,\" said Diogenes, \"so he was first to yield\nthe victory to Ismenodora, and he has now put on a crown and robed\nhimself in white, so as to take his place at the head of the procession\nto the god through the market-place.\" \"Come,\" said my father, \"in\nHeaven's name, let us go and laugh at him, and worship the god; for it\nis clear that the god has taken delight in what has happened, and been\npropitious.\"\n\n    [62] The allusion is to Plato's \"Phaedrus,\" p. 230, B.\n    Much, indeed, of the subject-matter here is, we shall\n    find, somewhat similar to that of the Phaedrus.\n\n    [63] It is difficult to know what the best English word\n    here is. From the sly thrust in Sec. ix. Pisias was\n    evidently grey. I have therefore selected the word\n    _gravest_. But _the most austere_, _the most sensible_,\n    _the most solid_, _the most sedate_, all might express\n    the Greek word also. Let the reader take which he likes\n    best.\n\n    [64] In a Greek house the women and men had each their\n    own separate apartments. This must be borne in mind here\n    to explain the allusion.\n\n    [65] That is, from interested and selfish motives.\n\n    [66] On Lais and Aristippus see Cicero, \"Ad. Fam.,\" ix.\n    26.\n\n    [67] Pausanias, i. 19, shows us that there was at Athens\n    a Temple of Hercules called Cynosarges. But the matter\n    is obscure. What the exact allusion is I cannot say.\n\n    [68] Fragment of AEschylus. See Athenaeus, xiii. p. 602,\n    E, which explains the otherwise obscure allusion.\n\n    [69] That is the son of Hera alone, who was unwilling to\n    be outdone by Zeus, who had given birth to Pallas Athene\n    alone. Hesiod has the same view, \"Theog.\" 927.\n\n    [70] [Greek: opora] is so used also in AEsch. \"Suppl.,\"\n    998, 1015. See also \"Athenaeus,\" 608, F. Daphnaeus implies\n    these very nice gentlemen, like the same class described\n    by Juvenal, \"Curios simulant et Bacchanalia vivunt.\"\n\n    [71] I omit [Greek: kai kopidas] as a gloss or\n    explanation of the old reading [Greek: makeleia] instead\n    of [Greek: matruleia]. Nothing can be made of [Greek:\n    kai kopidas] in the context.\n\n    [72] \"Works and Days,\" 606-608.\n\n    [73] I follow here the reading of Wyttenbach. Through\n    the whole of this essay the reading is very uncertain\n    frequently. My text in it has been formed from a careful\n    collation of Wyttenbach, Reiske, and Duebner. I mention\n    this here once for all, for it is unnecessary in a\n    translation to minutely specify the various readings on\n    every occasion. I am not editing the \"Moralia.\"\n\n    [74] \"De Oenantha et Agathoclea, v. Polyb. excerpt, l.\n    xv.\"--_Reiske._\n\n    [75] Thespiae. The allusion is to Phryne. See Pausanias,\n    ix. 27; x. 15.\n\n    [76] Reading with Wyttenbach, [Greek: hosper daktylion\n    ischnou, ho me perirrhue dedios.]\n\n    [77] Perhaps _cur_ = coward, was originally _cur-tail_.\n\n    [78] One of the three ports at Athens. See Pausanias, i.\n    1.\n\n    [79] Iolaus was the nephew of Hercules, and was\n    associated with him in many of his Labours. See\n    Pausanias, i. 19; vii. 2; viii. 14, 45.\n\n    [80] I read [Greek: synoarizontas]. The general reading\n    [Greek: synerontas] will hardly do here. Wyttenbach\n    suggests [Greek: synearizontas].\n\n    [81] What the [Greek: dibolia] was is not quite clear. I\n    have supposed a jersey.\n\n    [82] The women of Lemnos were very masterful. On one\n    memorable occasion they killed all their husbands in one\n    night. Thus the line of Ovid has almost a proverbial\n    force, \"Lemniadesque viros nimium quoque vincere\n    norunt.\"--_Heroides_, vi. 53. Siebelis in his Preface to\n    Pausanias, p. xxi, gives from an old Scholia a sort of\n    excuse for the action of the women of Lemnos.\n\n    [83] Probably the epilepsy. See Herodotus, iii. 33.\n\n    [84] Euripides, \"Bacchae,\" 203.\n\n    [85] Euripides, Fragment of the \"Melanippe.\"\n\n    [86] I take Wyttenbach's suggestion as to the reading\n    here.\n\n    [87] This line is taken bodily by Aristophanes in his\n    \"Frogs,\" 1244.\n\n    [88] The first line is the first line of a passage from\n    Euripides, consisting of thirteen lines, containing\n    similar sentiments to this. See Athenaeus, xiii. p. 599,\n    F. The last two lines are from Euripides, \"Hippolytus,\"\n    449, 450.\n\n    [89] Compare Lucretius, i. 1-5.\n\n    [90] Hesiod, \"Theogony,\" 116-120.\n\n    [91] Euripides, \"Danae,\" Frag. Compare Ovid, \"Cedit amor\n    rebus: res age, tutus eris.\"\n\n    [92] Sophocles, Fragm. 678, Dindorf. Compare a remark of\n    Sophocles, recorded by Cicero, \"De Senectute,\" ch. xiv.\n\n    [93] Sophocles, Fragm. 720. Reading [Greek: kala] with\n    Reiske.\n\n    [94] Iliad, v. 831.\n\n    [95] Connecting [Greek: Ares] with [Greek: anairein].\n\n    [96] The _Saint Hubert_ of the Middle Ages.\n\n    [97] AEschylus, Frag. 1911. Dindorf.\n\n    [98] Odyssey, v. 69.\n\n    [99] Fragm. 146, 125.\n\n    [100] Hermes is alluded to.\n\n    [101] All these four were titles of _Zeus_. They are\n    very difficult to put into English so as to convey any\n    distinctive and definite idea to an English reader.\n\n    [102] Enthusiasm is the being [Greek: entheos], or\n    inspired by some god.\n\n    [103] From AEschylus, \"Supplices,\" 681, 682.\n\n    [104] \"Iliad,\" vii. 121, 122.\n\n    [105] Like the character described in Lucretius, ii.\n    1-6.\n\n    [106] Sophocles, \"Trachiniae,\" 497. The Cyprian Queen\n    is, of course, Aphrodite.\n\n    [107] Hence the famous Proverb, \"Non omnibus dormio.\"\n    See Cic. \"Ad. Fam.\" vii. 24.\n\n    [108] Above, in Sec. xiii.\n\n    [109] See Sophocles, \"Antigone,\" 783, 784. And compare\n    Horace, \"Odes,\" Book iv. Ode xiii. 6-8, \"Ille virentis\n    et Doctae psallere Chiae _Pulchris excubat in genis_.\"\n\n    [110] The \"Niobe,\" which exists only in a few fragments.\n\n    [111] This was the name of Dionysius' Poem. He was a\n    Corinthian poet.\n\n    [112] \"Iliad,\" xiii. 131.\n\n    [113] Reading according to the conjecture of Wyttenbach,\n    [Greek: hos ton Erota uonon aetteton onta ton\n    strategon].\n\n    [114] Something has probably dropped out here, as Duebner\n    suspects.\n\n    [115] Fragment from the \"Stheneboea\" of Euripides.\n\n    [116] Anytus was one of the accusers of Socrates, and so\n    one of the causers of his death. So Horace calls\n    Socrates \"Anyti reum,\" \"Sat.\" ii. 4, 3.\n\n    [117] Homeric Epigrammata, xiii. 5. Quoted also in \"On\n    Virtue and Vice,\" Sec. 1.\n\n    [118] Odyssey, xix. 40.\n\n    [119] I adopt the suggestion of Wyttenbach, [Greek:\n    eipen, o Daphnaie].\n\n    [120] Pinder, \"Pyth.\" i. 8.\n\n    [121] See for example Homer, Iliad, xi. 3, 73; ix. 502.\n\n    [122] Euripides, \"Pirithous,\" Fragm. 591. Dindorf.\n\n    [123] An allusion to Homer, \"Odyssey,\" xii. 453.\n\n    [124] So Terence, \"Andria,\" 555. \"Amantium irae amoris\n    integratiost.\"\n\n    [125] Euripides, \"Hippolytus,\" 194-196.\n\n    [126] The lines are from Alcaeus. Thus Love was the child\n    of the Rainbow and the West Wind. A pretty conceit.\n\n    [127] Greek _iris_.\n\n    [128] The mirrors of the ancients were of course not\n    like our mirrors. They were only burnished bronze. Hence\n    the view in them would be at best somewhat obscure. This\n    explains 1 Cor. xiii. 12; 2 Cor. iii. 18; James i. 23.\n\n    [129] See Euripides, \"Hippolytus,\" 7, 8.\n\n    [130] Here the story unfortunately ends, and for all\n    time we shall know no more of it. Reiske somewhat\n    forcibly says, \"Vel lippus videat Gorgus historiam non\n    esse finitam, et multa, ut et alias, periisse.\"\n\n    [131] Like Reiske we condense here a little.\n\n    [132] Reading with Reiske [Greek: orthes kai\n    athruptou.]\n\n    [133] I read [Greek: ei gar].\n\n    [134] See \"Iliad,\" xxiii. 295. Podargus was an entire\n    horse.\n\n    [135] See Ovid, \"Metamorph.\" iii. 206-208.\n\n    [136] AEschylus, \"Toxotides,\" Fragm. 224.\n\n    [137] A very favourite proverb among the ancients. See\n    Plat. \"Phaedr.\" fin. Martial, ii. 43.\n\n    [138] Soph. Fragm. 712.\n\n    [139] On Lais, see Pausanias, ii. 2. Her Thessalian\n    lover is there called Hippostratus. Her favours were so\n    costly that the famous proverb is said to owe its origin\n    to her, \"Non cuivis homini contingit adire Corinthum.\"\n\n    [140] The AEgean and Ionian. Cf. Horace, \"Odes,\" i. 7, 2.\n\n    [141] On Acro-Corinthus, see Pausanias, ii. 4. The words\n    in inverted commas are from Euripides, Fragm. 921.\n\n    [142] On Lais generally, and her end, see Athenaeus,\n    xiii. 54, 55.\n\n    [143] See Sec. I. The Festival of Love was being kept at\n    this very time.\n\n    [144] This story is also told by Plutarch, \"De Mulierum\n    Virtutibus,\" Sec. xx.\n\n    [145] Sophocles, Fragm. 741. Quoted again in \"On\n    Abundance of Friends,\" Sec. iii.\n\n    [146] A Delphic word for love. Can it be connected with\n    [Greek: arma]?\n\n    [147] Very frequent in Homer, _e.g._, \"Iliad,\" ii. 232;\n    vi, 165; xiii. 636: xiv. 353, etc.\n\n    [148] See Lucretius, iv. 1105-1114. I tone down the\n    original here a little.\n\n    [149] Homer, \"Odyssey,\" vi. 183, 184. Cf. Eurip.\n    \"Medea,\" 14, 15.\n\n    [150] This means when the moustache and beard and\n    whiskers begin to grow.\n\n    [151] The whole story about Harmodius and Aristogiton\n    and how they killed Hipparchus is told by Thucydides,\n    vi. 54-59. Bion therefore practically called these\n    sprouting beards _tyrant-killers_, _tyrannicides_.\n\n    [152] \"Scriptus igitur hic libellus est post caedem\n    Domitiani.\"--_Reiske._\n\n    [153] Vespasian certainly was not cruel generally. \"Non\n    temere quis punitus insons reperietur, nisi absente eo\n    et ignaro aut certe invito atque decepto..... Sola est,\n    in qua merito culpetur, pecuniae cupiditas.\"--Suetonius,\n    \"Divus Vespasianus,\" 15, 16.\n\n\n\n\nCONJUGAL PRECEPTS.\n\nPLUTARCH SENDS GREETING TO POLLIANUS AND EURYDICE.\n\n\nAfter the customary marriage rites, by which, the Priestess of Demeter\nhas united you together, I think that to make an appropriate discourse,\nand one that will chime in with the occasion, will be useful to you and\nagreeable to the law. For in music one of the tunes played on the flute\nis called Hippothorus,[154] which is a tune that excites fierce desire\nin stallions to cover mares; and though in philosophy there are many\ngoodly subjects, yet is there none more worthy of attention than that of\nmarriage, on which subject philosophy spreads a charm over those who are\nto pass life together, and makes them gentle and mild to one another. I\nsend therefore as a gift to both of you a summary of what you have often\nheard, as you are both well versed in philosophy, arranging my matter in\na series of short observations that it may be the more easily\nremembered, and I pray that the Muses will assist and co-operate with\nAphrodite, so that no lyre or lute could be more harmonious or in tune\nthan your married life, as the result of philosophy and concord. And\nthus the ancients set up near Aphrodite statues of Hermes, to show that\nconversation was one of the great charms of marriage, and also statues\nof Peitho[155] and the Graces, to teach married people to gain their way\nwith one another by persuasion, and not by wrangling or contention.\n\nSec. I. Solon bade the bride eat a quince the first night of marriage,\nintimating thereby, it seems, that the bridegroom, was to expect his\nfirst pleasure from the bride's mouth and conversation.\n\nSec. II. In Boeotia they dress up the bride with a chaplet of asparagus,\nfor as the asparagus gives most excellent fruit from a thorny stalk, so\nthe bride, by not being too reluctant and coy in the first approaches,\nwill make the married state more agreeable and pleasant. But those\nhusbands who cannot put up with the early peevishness of their brides,\nare not a whit wiser than those persons who pluck unripe grapes and\nleave the ripe grapes for others.[156] On the other hand, many brides,\nbeing at first disgusted with their husbands, are like those that stand\nthe bee's sting but neglect the honey.\n\nSec. III. Married people should especially at the outset beware of the\nfirst quarrel and collision, observing that vessels when first\nfabricated are easily broken up into their component parts, but in\nprocess of time, getting compact and firmly welded together, are proof\nagainst either fire or steel.\n\nSec. IV. As fire gets kindled easily in chaff or in a wick or in the fur of\nhares, but is easily extinguished again, if it find no material to keep\nit in and feed it, so we must not consider that the love of\nnewly-married people, that blazes out so fiercely in consequence of the\nattractions of youth and beauty, will be durable and lasting, unless it\nbe fixed in the character, and occupy the mind, and make a living\nimpression.[157]\n\nSec. V. As catching fish by drugged bait is easy, but makes the fish poor\nto eat and insipid, so those wives that lay traps for their husbands by\nphiltres and charms, and become their masters by pleasure, have stupid\nsenseless and spoiled husbands to live with. For those that were\nbewitched by Circe did her no good, nor could she make any use of them\nwhen they were turned into swine and asses, but she was greatly in love\nwith the prudent Odysseus who dwelt with her sensibly.\n\nSec. VI. Those women who would rather lord it over fools than obey sensible\nmen, resemble those people who would rather lead the blind on a road,\nand not people who have eyesight and know how to follow.\n\nSec. VII. Women disbelieve that Pasiphaee, a king's wife, was enamoured of\na bull, although they see some of their sex despising grave and sober\nmen, and preferring to associate with men who are the slaves of\nintemperance and pleasure, and like dogs and he-goats.\n\nSec. VIII. Men who through weakness or effeminacy cannot vault upon their\nhorses' backs, teach them to kneel and so receive their riders.\nSimilarly, some men that marry noble or rich wives, instead of making\nthemselves better humble their wives, thinking to rule them easier by\nlowering them. But one ought to govern with an eye to the merit of a\nwoman, as much as to the size of a horse.\n\nSec. IX. We see that the moon when it is far from the sun is bright and\nglorious, but pales and hides its light when it is near. A modest wife\non the contrary ought to be seen chiefly with her husband, and to stay\nat home and in retirement in his absence.\n\nSec. X. It is not a true observation of Herodotus, that a woman puts off\nher modesty with her shift.[158] On the contrary, the modest woman puts\non her modesty instead, and great modesty is a sign of great conjugal\nlove.\n\nSec. XI. As where two voices are in unison the loudest prevails; so in a\nwell-managed household everything is done by mutual consent, but the\nhusband's supremacy is exhibited, and his wishes are consulted.\n\nSec. XII. The Sun beat the North Wind.[159] For when it blew a strong and\nterrible blast, and tried to make the man remove his cloak, he only drew\nit round him more closely, but when the Sun came out with its warm rays,\nat first warmed and afterwards scorched, he stripped himself of coat as\nwell as cloak. Most woman act similarly: if their husbands try to\ncurtail by force their luxury and extravagance, they are vexed and fight\nfor their rights, but if they are convinced by reason, they quietly drop\ntheir expensive habits, and keep within bounds.\n\nSec. XIII. Cato turned out of the Senate a man who kissed his own wife in\nthe presence of his daughter. This was perhaps too strong a step, but if\nit is unseemly, as indeed it is, for husband and wife in the presence of\nothers to fondle and kiss and embrace one another, is it not far more\nunseemly in the presence of others to quarrel and jangle? Just as\nconjugal caresses and endearments ought to be private, so ought\nadmonition and scolding and plain speaking.\n\nSec. XIV. Just as there is little use in a mirror adorned with gold or\nprecious stones, unless it conveys a true likeness, so there is no\nadvantage in a rich wife, unless she conforms her life and habits to her\nhusband's position. For if when a man is joyful the mirror makes him\nlook sad, and when he is put out and sad it makes him look gay and\nsmiling from ear to ear, the mirror is plainly faulty. So the wife is\nfaulty and devoid of tact, who frowns when her husband is in the vein\nfor mirth and jollity, and who jokes and laughs when he is serious: the\nformer conduct is disagreeable, the latter contemptuous.[160] And, just\nas geometricians say lines and surfaces do not move of themselves, but\nonly in connection with bodies, so the wife ought to have no private\nemotions of her own, but share in her husband's gravity or mirth,\nanxiety or gaiety.\n\nSec. XV. As those husbands who do not like to see their wives eating and\ndrinking in their company only teach them to take their food on the sly,\nso those husbands who are not gay and jolly with their wives, and never\njoke or smile with them, only teach them to seek their pleasures out of\ntheir company.\n\nSec. XVI. The kings of Persia have their wedded wives at their side at\nbanquets and entertainments; but when they have a mind for a drunken\ndebauch they send them away,[161] and call for singing-girls and\nconcubines, rightly so doing, for so they do not mix up their wives with\nlicentiousness and drunkenness. Similarly, if a private individual,\nlustful and dissolute, goes astray with a courtesan or maid-servant, the\nwife should not be vexed or impatient, but consider that it is out of\nrespect to her that he bestows upon another all his wanton depravity.\n\nSec. XVII. As kings make[162] if fond of music many musicians, if lovers of\nlearning many men of letters, and many athletes if fond of gymnastics,\nso the man who has an eye for female charms teaches his wife to dress\nwell, the man of pleasure teaches his meretricious tricks and\nwantonness, while the true gentleman makes his virtuous and decorous.\n\nSec. XVIII. A Lacedaemonian maiden, when someone asked her if she had yet\nhad dealings with a man, replied, \"No, but he has with me.\" This\nmethinks is the line of conduct a matron should pursue, neither to\ndecline the embraces of a husband when he takes the initiative, nor to\nprovoke them herself, for the one is forward and savours of the\ncourtesan, the other is haughty and unnatural.\n\nSec. XIX. The wife ought not to have her own private friends, but cultivate\nonly those of the husband. Now the gods are our first and greatest\nfriends, so the wife ought only to worship and recognize her husband's\ngods, and the door ought to be shut on all superfluous worship and\nstrange superstitions, for none of the gods are pleased with stealthy\nand secret sacrifices on the part of a wife.\n\nSec. XX. Plato says that is a happy and fortunate state, where the words\n_Meum_ and _Tuum_ are least heard,[163] because the citizens regard the\ncommon interest in all matters of importance. Far more essential is it\nin marriage that the words should have no place. For, as the doctors\nsay, that blows on the left shoulders are also felt on the right,[164]\nso is it good[165] for husband and wife to mutually sympathize with one\nanother, that, just as the strength of ropes comes from the twining and\ninterlacing of fibres together, so the marriage knot may be confirmed\nand strengthened by the interchange of mutual affection and kindness.\nNature itself teaches this by the birth of children, which are so much a\njoint result, that neither husband nor wife can discriminate or discern\nwhich part of the child is theirs. So, too, it is well for married\npersons to have one purse, and to throw all their property into one\ncommon stock, that here also there may be no _Meum_ and _Tuum_. And just\nas we call the mixture of water and wine by the name of wine, even\nthough the water should preponderate,[166] so we say that the house and\nproperty belongs to the man, even though the wife contribute most of the\nmoney.\n\nSec. XXI. Helen was fond of wealth, Paris of pleasure, whereas Odysseus was\nprudent, Penelope chaste. So the marriage of the last two was happy and\nenviable, while that of the former two brought an Iliad of woe on Greeks\nand barbarians alike.\n\nSec. XXII. The Roman who was taken to task by his friends for repudiating a\nchaste wealthy and handsome wife, showed them his shoe and said,\n\"Although this is new and handsome, none of you know where it pinches\nme.\"[167] A wife ought not therefore to put her trust in her dowry, or\nfamily, or beauty, but in matters that more vitally concern her husband,\nnamely, in her disposition and companionableness and complaisance with\nhim, not to make every-day life vexatious or annoying, but harmonious and\ncheerful and agreeable. For as doctors are more afraid of fevers that\nare generated from uncertain causes, and from a complication of\nailments, than of those that have a clear and adequate cause, so the\nsmall and continual and daily matters of offence between husband and\nwife, that the world knows nothing about, set the household most at\nvariance, and do it the greatest injury.\n\nSec. XXIII. King Philip was desperately enamoured of a Thessalian\nwoman,[168] who was accused of bewitching him; his wife Olympias\ntherefore wished to get this woman into her power. But when she came\nbefore her, and was evidently very handsome, and talked to her in a\nnoble and sensible manner, Olympias said, \"Farewell to calumny! Your\ncharms lie in yourself.\"[169] So invincible are the charms of a lawful\nwife to win her husband's affection by her virtuous character, bringing\nto him in herself dowry, and family, and philtres, and even Aphrodite's\ncestus.[170]\n\nSec. XXIV. Olympias, on another occasion, when a young courtier had married\na wife who was very handsome, but whose reputation was not very good,\nremarked, \"This fellow has no sense, or he would not have married with\nhis eyes.\" We ought neither to marry with our eyes, nor with our\nfingers, as some do, who reckon up on their fingers what dowry the wife\nwill bring, not what sort of partner she will make.\n\nSec. XXV. It was advice of Socrates, that when young men looked at\nthemselves in the mirror, those who were not handsome should become so\nthrough virtue, and those who were so should not by vice deform their\nbeauty. Good also is it for the matron, when she has the mirror in her\nhands, if not handsome to say to herself, \"What should I be, if I were\nnot virtuous?\" and if handsome to say to herself, \"How good it were to\nadd virtue to beauty!\" for it is a feather in the cap of a woman not\nhandsome to be loved for herself and not for good looks.\n\nSec. XXVI. Dionysius, the tyrant of Sicily, sent some costly dresses and\nnecklaces to the daughters of Lysander, but he would not receive them,\nand said, \"These presents will bring my daughters more shame than\nadornment.\" And Sophocles said still earlier than Lysander, \"Your\nmadness of mind will not appear handsome, wretch, but most unhandsome.\"\nFor, as Crates says, \"that is adornment which adorns,\" and that adorns a\nwoman that makes her more comely; and it is not gold or diamonds or\nscarlet robes that make her so, but her dignity, her correct conduct,\nand her modesty.\n\nSec. XXVII. Those who sacrifice to Hera as goddess of marriage,[171] do\nnot burn the gall with the other parts of the victim, but when they have\ndrawn it throw it away beside the altar: the lawgiver thus hinting that\ngall and rage have no place in marriage. For the austerity of a matron\nshould be, like that of wine, wholesome and pleasant, not bitter as\naloes, or like a drug.\n\nSec. XXVIII. Plato advised Xenocrates, a man rather austere but in all\nother respects a fine fellow, to sacrifice to the Graces. I think also\nthat a chaste wife needs the graces with her husband that, as Metrodorus\nsaid, \"she may live agreeably with him, and not be bad-tempered because\nshe is chaste.\" For neither should the frugal wife neglect neatness, nor\nthe virtuous one neglect to make herself attractive, for peevishness\nmakes a wife's good conduct disagreeable, as untidiness makes one\ndisgusted with simplicity.\n\nSec. XXIX. The wife who is afraid to laugh and jest with her husband, lest\nshe should appear bold and wanton, resembles one that will not anoint\nherself with oil lest she should be thought to use cosmetics, and will\nnot wash her face lest she should be thought to paint. We see also in\nthe case of those poets and orators, that avoid a popular illiberal and\naffected style, that they artificially endeavour to move and sway their\naudience by the facts, and by a skilful arrangement of them, and by\ntheir gestures. Consequently a matron will do well to avoid and\nrepudiate over-preciseness meretriciousness and pomposity, and to use\ntact in her dealings with her husband in every-day life, accustoming him\nto a combination of pleasure and decorum. But if a wife be by nature\naustere and apathetic, and no lover of pleasure, the husband must make\nthe best of it, for, as Phocion said, when Antipater enjoined on him an\naction neither honourable nor becoming, \"You cannot have me as a friend\nand flatterer both,\" so he must say to himself about his strict and\naustere wife, \"I cannot have in the same woman wife and mistress.\"\n\nSec. XXX. It was a custom among the Egyptian ladies not to wear shoes, that\nthey might stay at home all day and not go abroad. But most of our women\nwill only stay at home if you strip them of their golden shoes, and\nbracelets, and shoe-buckles, and purple robes, and pearls.\n\nSec. XXXI. Theano, as she was putting on her shawl, displayed her arm, and\nsomebody observing, \"What a handsome arm!\" she replied, \"But not\ncommon.\" So ought not even the speech, any more than the arm, of a\nchaste woman, to be common, for speech must be considered as it were the\nexposing of the mind, especially in the presence of strangers. For in\nwords are seen the state of mind and character and disposition of the\nspeaker.\n\nSec. XXXII. Phidias made a statue of Aphrodite at Elis, with one foot on a\ntortoise,[172] as a symbol that women should stay at home and be silent.\nFor the wife ought only to speak either to her husband, or by her\nhusband, not being vexed if, like a flute-player, she speaks more\ndecorously by another mouth-piece.\n\nSec. XXXIII. When rich men and kings honour philosophers, they really pay\nhomage to themselves as well; but when philosophers pay court to the\nrich, they lower themselves without advancing their patrons. The same is\nthe case with women. If they submit themselves to their husbands they\nreceive praise, but if they desire to rule, they get less credit even\nthan the husbands who submit to their rule. But the husband ought to\nrule his wife, not as a master does a chattel, but as the soul governs\nthe body, by sympathy and goodwill. As he ought to govern the body by\nnot being a slave to its pleasures and desires, so he ought to rule his\nwife by cheerfulness and complaisance.\n\nSec. XXXIV. The philosophers tell us that some bodies are composed of\ndistinct parts, as a fleet or army; others of connected parts, as a\nhouse or ship; others united and growing together, as every animal is.\nThe marriage of lovers is like this last class, that of those who marry\nfor dowry or children is like the second class, and that of those who\nonly sleep together is like the first class, who may be said to live in\nthe same house, but in no other sense to live together. But, just as\ndoctors tell us that liquids are the only things that thoroughly mix, so\nin married people there must be a complete union of bodies, wealth,\nfriends, and relations. And thus the Roman legislator forbade married\npeople to exchange presents with one another, not that they should not\ngo shares with one another, but that they should consider everything as\ncommon property.\n\nSec. XXXV. At Leptis, a town in Libya, it is the custom for the bride the\nday after marriage to send to her mother-in-law's house for a pipkin,\nwho does not lend her one, but says she has not got one, that from the\nfirst the daughter-in-law may know her mother-in-law's stepmotherly\nmind,[173] that if afterwards she should be harsher still, she should be\nprepared for it and not take it ill. Knowing this the wife ought to\nguard against any cause of offence, for the bridegroom's mother is\njealous of his affection to his wife. But there is one cure for this\ncondition of mind, to conciliate privately the husband's affection, and\nnot to divert or diminish his love for his mother.\n\nSec. XXXVI. Mothers seem to love their sons best as able to help them, and\nfathers their daughters as needing their help; perhaps also it is in\ncompliment to one another, that each prefers the other sex in their\nchildren, and openly favours it. This, however, is a matter perhaps of\nlittle importance. But it looks very nice in the wife to show greater\nrespect to her husband's parents than to her own, and if anything\nunpleasant has happened to confide it to them rather than to her own\npeople. For trust begets trust,[174] and love love.\n\nSec. XXXVII. The generals of the Greeks in Cyrus's army ordered their men\nto receive the enemy silently if they came up shouting, but if they came\nup silently to rush out to meet them with a shout. So sensible wives, in\ntheir husband's tantrums, are quiet when they storm, but if they are\nsilent and sullen talk them round and appease them.\n\nSec. XXXVIII. Rightly does Euripides[175] censure those who introduce the\nlyre at wine-parties, for music ought to be called in to assuage anger\nand grief, rather than to enervate the voluptuous still more than\nbefore. Think, therefore, those in error who sleep together for\npleasure, but when they have any little difference with one another\nsleep apart, and do not then more than at any other time invoke\nAphrodite, who is the best physician in such cases, as the poet, I ween,\nteaches us, where he introduces Hera, saying:\n\n  \"Their long-continued strife I now will end,\n   For to the bed of love I will them send.\"[176]\n\nSec. XXXIX. Everywhere and at all times should husband and wife avoid\ngiving one another cause of offence, but most especially when they are\nin bed together. The woman who was in labour and had a bad time said to\nthose that urged her to go to bed, \"How shall the bed cure me, which was\nthe very cause of this trouble?\"[177] And those differences and quarrels\nwhich the bed generates will not easily be put an end to at any other\ntime or place.\n\nSec. XL. Hermione seems to speak the truth where she says:\n\n  \"The visits of bad women ruined me.\"[178]\n\nBut this case does not happen naturally, but only when dissension and\njealousy has made wives open not only their doors but their ears to such\nwomen. But that is the very time when a sensible wife will shut her ears\nmore than at any other time, and be especially on her guard against\nwhisperers, that fire may not be added to fire,[179] and remember the\nremark of Philip, who, when his friends tried to excite him against the\nGreeks, on the ground that they were treated well and yet reviled him,\nanswered, \"What will they do then, if I treat them ill?\" Whenever, then,\ncalumniating women come and say to a wife, \"How badly your husband\ntreats you, though a chaste and loving wife!\" let her answer, \"How would\nhe act then, if I were to begin to hate him and injure him?\"\n\nSec. XLI. The master who saw his runaway slave a long time after he had\nrun away, and chased him, and came up with him just as he had got to the\nmill, said to him, \"In what more appropriate place could I have wished\nto find you?\"[180] So let the wife, who is jealous of her husband, and\non the point of writing a bill of divorce in her anger, say to herself,\n\"In what state would my rival be better pleased to see me in than this,\nvexed and at variance with my husband, and on the point of abandoning\nhis house and bed?\"\n\nSec. XLII. The Athenians have three sacred seedtimes: the first at Scirus,\nas a remembrance of the original sowing of corn, the second at Rharia,\nthe third under Pelis, which is called Buzygium.[181] But a more sacred\nseedtime than all these is the procreation of children, and therefore\nSophocles did well to call Aphrodite \"fruitful Cytherea.\" Wherefore it\nbehoves both husband and wife to be most careful over this business, and\nto abstain from lawless and unholy breaches of the marriage vow, and\nfrom sowing in quarters where they desire no produce, or where, if any\nproduce should come, they would be ashamed of it and desire to conceal\nit.[182]\n\nSec. XLIII. When Gorgias the Rhetorician recited his speech at Olympia\nrecommending harmony to the Greeks, Melanthius cried out, \"He recommend\nharmony to us! Why, he can't persuade his wife and maid to live in\nharmony, though there are only three of them in the house!\" Gorgias\nbelike had an intrigue with the maid, and his wife was jealous. He then\nmust have his own house in good order who undertakes to order the\naffairs of his friends and the public, for any ill-doings on the part of\nhusbands to their wives is far more likely to come out and be known to\nthe public than the ill-doings of wives to their husbands.\n\nSec. XLIV. They say the cat is driven mad by the smell of perfumes. If it\nhappens that wives are equally affected by perfumes, it is monstrous\nthat their husbands should not abstain from using perfumes, rather than\nfor so small a pleasure to incommode so grievously their wives. And\nsince they suffer quite as much when their husbands go with other women,\nit is unjust for a small pleasure to pain and grieve wives, and not to\nabstain from connection with other women, when even bee-keepers will do\nas much, because bees are supposed to dislike and sting those that have\nhad dealings with women.\n\nSec. XLV. Those that approach elephants do not dress in white, nor those\nthat approach bulls in red, for these colours render those animals\nsavage; and tigers they say at the beating of drums go quite wild, and\ntear themselves in their rage. Similarly, as some men cannot bear to see\nscarlet and purple dresses, and others are put out by cymbals and\ndrums,[183] what harm would it do wives to abstain from these things,\nand not to vex or provoke husbands, but to live with them quietly and\nmeekly?\n\nSec. XLVI. A woman said to Philip, who against her will was pulling her\nabout, \"Let me go, all women are alike when the lamp is put out.\"[184] A\ngood remark to adulterers and debauchees. But the married woman ought to\nshow when the light is put out that she is not like all other women, for\nthen, when her body is not visible, she ought to exhibit her chastity\nand modesty as well as her personal affection to her husband.\n\nSec. XLVII. Plato[185] recommended old men to act with decorum especially\nbefore young men, that they too might show respect to them; for where\nthe old behave shamelessly, no modesty or reverence will be exhibited by\nthe young. The husband ought to remember this, and show no one more\nrespect than his wife, knowing that the bridal chamber will be to her\neither a school of virtue or of vice. And he who enjoys pleasures that\nhe forbids his wife, is like a man that orders his wife to go on\nfighting against an enemy to whom he has himself surrendered.\n\nSec. XLVIII. As to love of show, Eurydice, read and try to remember what\nwas written by Timoxena to Aristylla: and do you, Pollianus, not suppose\nthat your wife will abstain from extravagance and expense, if she sees\nthat you do not despise such vanities in others, but delight in gilt\ncups, and pictures in houses, and trappings for mules, and ornaments for\nhorses. For it is not possible to banish extravagance from the women's\nside of the house if it is always to be seen in the men's apartments.\nMoreover, Pollianus, as you are already old enough for the study of\nphilosophy, adorn your character by its teaching, whether it consists of\ndemonstration or constructive reasoning, by associating and conversing\nwith those that can profit you. And for your wife gather honey from\nevery quarter, as the bees do, and whatever knowledge you have yourself\nacquired impart to her, and converse with her, making the best arguments\nwell known and familiar to her. For now\n\n  \"Father thou art to her, and mother dear,\n   And brother too.\"[186]\n\nAnd no less decorous is it to hear the wife say, \"Husband, you are my\nteacher and philosopher and guide in the most beautiful and divine\nsubjects.\" For such teaching in the first place detaches women from\nabsurdities: for the woman who has learnt geometry will be ashamed to\ndance, nor will she believe in incantations and spells, if she has been\ncharmed by the discourses of Plato and Xenophon; and if anyone should\nundertake to draw the moon down from the sky, she will laugh at the\nignorance and stupidity of women that credit such nonsense, well\nunderstanding geometry, and having heard how Aglaonice, the daughter of\nthe Thessalian Hegetor, having a thorough knowledge of the eclipses of\nthe moon, and being aware beforehand of the exact time when the moon\nwould be in eclipse, cheated the women, and persuaded them that she\nherself had drawn it down from the sky. For no woman was ever yet\ncredited with having had a child without intercourse with a man, for\nthose shapeless embryos and gobbets of flesh that take form from\ncorruption are called moles. We must guard against such false\nconceptions as these arising in the minds of women, for if they are not\nwell informed by good precepts, and share in the teaching that men get,\nthey generate among themselves many foolish and absurd ideas and states\nof mind. But do you, Eurydice, study to make yourself acquainted with\nthe sayings of wise and good women, and ever have on your tongue those\nsentiments which as a girl you learnt with us, that so you may make your\nhusband's heart glad, and be admired by all other women, being in\nyourself so wonderfully and splendidly adorned. For one cannot take or\nput on, except at great expense, the jewels of this or that rich woman,\nor the silk dresses of this or that foreign woman, but the virtues that\nadorned Theano,[187] and Cleobuline, and Gorgo the wife of Leonidas, and\nTimoclea the sister of Theagenes, and the ancient Claudia,[188] and\nCornelia the sister of Scipio,[189] and all other such noble and famous\nwomen, these one may array oneself in without money and without price,\nand so adorned lead a happy and famous life. For if Sappho plumed\nherself so much on the beauty of her lyrical poetry as to write to a\ncertain rich woman, \"You shall lie down in your tomb, nor shall there be\nany remembrance of you, for you have no part in the roses of Pieria,\"\nhow shall you not have a greater right to plume yourself on having a\npart not in the roses but in the fruits which the Muses bring, and which\nthey freely bestow on those that admire learning and philosophy?[190]\n\n    [154] This tune is again alluded to by Plutarch in\n    \"Quaestion. Convival.\", p. 704, F. See also Clemens\n    Alexandrinus, \"Paedagog.\" ii. p. 164, [Greek: A tais de\n    hippois mignumenais oion hymenaios epauleitai nomos\n    aulodias hippothoron touton keklekasin oi Mousikoi.]\n\n    [155] Peitho means Persuasion, and is represented as one\n    of the Graces by Hermes anax. See Pausanias, ix. 35.\n\n    [156] Compare the Proverb [Greek: Eikelos omphakizetai],\n    and Tibullus, iii. 5, 19: \"Quid fraudare juvat vitem\n    crescentibus uvis?\"\n\n    [157] Cf. Shakspere, \"Romeo and Juliet,\" A. ii. Sc. vi.\n    9-15.\n\n    [158] Herodotus, i. 8.\n\n    [159] An allusion to the well-known Fable of AEsop, No.\n    82 in Halm's edition.\n\n    [160] This comparison of the mirror is beautifully used\n    by Keble in his \"Christian Year:\"\n\n      \"Without a hope on earth to find\n       A mirror in an answering mind.\"\n                          _Wednesday before Easter._\n\n    [161] Does this throw light on Esther, i. 10-12?\n\n    [162] By their patronage.\n\n    [163] \"Republic,\" v. p. 462, C.\n\n    [164] By the power of sympathy. This is especially true\n    of eyes. Wyttenbach compares the Epigram in the\n    Anthology, i. 46. 9. [Greek: Kai gar dexion omma\n    kakoumenon ommati laio Pollaki tous idious antididosi\n    ponous.]\n\n    [165] Reading [Greek: kalon] with Hercher.\n\n    [166] The ancients hardly ever drank wine neat. Hence\n    the allusion. The symposiarch, or arbiter bibendi,\n    settled the proportions to be used.\n\n    [167] Compare the French proverb, \"Le beau soulier\n    blesse souvent le pied.\"\n\n    [168] Thessaly was considered by the ancients famous for\n    enchantments and spells. So Juvenal, vi. 610, speaks of\n    \"Thessala philtia,\" and see Horace, \"Odes,\" i. 27. 21,\n    22; \"Epodes,\" v. 45.\n\n    [169] Wyttenbach well compares the lines of Menander:--\n\n    [Greek: enest alethes philtron eugnomon tropos, touto\n    katakratein andros eiothen gune.]\n\n    [170] An allusion to Homer, \"Iliad,\" xiv. 214-217.\n\n    [171] Called by the Romans \"pronuba Juno.\" See Verg.\n    \"AEneid,\" iv. 166; Ovid, \"Heroides,\" vi. 43.\n\n    [172] See Pausanias, vi. 25. The statue was made of\n    ivory and gold.\n\n    [173] Compare Terence, \"Hecyra,\" 201. \"Uno animo omnes\n    socrus oderunt nurus.\" As to stepmotherly feelings, the\n    \"injusta noverca\" has passed into a proverb with all\n    nations. See for example Hesiod, \"Works and Days,\" 823,\n    [Greek: allote metruie pelei hemere, allote meter].\n\n    [174] Wyttenbach compares Seneca's \"Fidelem si putaveris\n    facies.\" \"Ep.\" iii. p. 6.\n\n    [175] Euripides, \"Medea,\" 190-198.\n\n    [176] Homer, \"Iliad,\" xiv. 205, 209.\n\n    [177] See Mulier Parturiens, Phaedrus' \"Fables,\" i. 18.\n\n    [178] Euripides, \"Andromache,\" 930.\n\n    [179] Proverb. Cf. Horace, \"Oleum adde camino,\" ii.\n    \"Sat.\" iii. 321.\n\n    [180] See AEsop's Fables, No. 121. Halme. [Greek:\n    Drapetes] is the title. All readers of Plautus and\n    Terence know what a bugbear to slaves the threat of\n    being sent to the mill was. They would have to turn it\n    instead of horses, or other cattle.\n\n    [181] That is, _Yoking oxen for the plough_.\n\n    [182] Procreation of children was among the ancients\n    frequently called _Ploughing_ and _Sowing_. Hence the\n    allusions in this paragraph. So, too, Shakspere,\n    \"Measure for Measure,\" Act i. Sc. iv. 41-44.\n\n    [183] The reference is to the rites of Cybele. See\n    Lucretius, ii. 618.\n\n    [184] See Erasmus, \"Adagia.\" The French proverb is \"La\n    nuit tous les chats sont gris.\"\n\n    [185] \"Laws,\" p. 729, C.\n\n    [186] From the words of Andromache to Hector, \"Iliad,\"\n    vi. 429, 430.\n\n    [187] Theano was the wife of Pythagoras.\n\n    [188] See Livy, xxix. 14. Propertius, v. 11. 51, 52.\n    Ovid, \"Fasti,\" iv. 305 sq.\n\n    [189] And mother of the Gracchi.\n\n    [190] Jeremy Taylor, in his beautiful sermon on \"The\n    Marriage Ring,\" has borrowed not a few hints from this\n    treatise of Plutarch, as usual investing with a new\n    beauty whatever he borrows, from whatever source. He had\n    the classics at his fingers' end, and much of his unique\n    charm he owes to them. But he read them as a\n    philosopher, and not as a grammarian.\n\n\n\n\nCONSOLATORY LETTER TO HIS WIFE.\n\n\nSec. I. Plutarch to his wife sends greeting. The messenger that you sent to\nme to announce the death of our little girl seems to have missed his way\n_en route_ for Athens; but when I got to Tanagra I heard the news from\nmy niece. I suppose the funeral has already taken place, and I hope\neverything went off so as to give you least sorrow both now and\nhereafter. But if you left undone anything you wished to do, waiting for\nmy opinion, and thinking your grief would then be lighter, be it without\nceremoniousness or superstition, both which things are indeed foreign to\nyour character.\n\nSec. II. Only, my dear wife, let us both be patient at this calamity. I\nknow and can see very clearly how great it is, but should I find your\ngrief too excessive, it would trouble me even more than the event\nitself. And yet I have not a heart hard as heart of oak or flintstone,\nas you yourself know very well, who have shared with me in the bringing\nup of so many children, as they have all been educated at home by\nourselves. And this one I know was more especially beloved by you, as\nshe was the first daughter after four sons, when you longed for a\ndaughter, and so I gave her your name.[191] And as you are very fond of\nchildren your grief must have a peculiar bitterness when you call to\nmind her pure and simple gaiety, which was without a tincture of passion\nor querulousness. For she had from nature a wonderful contentedness of\nmind and meekness, and her affectionateness and winning ways not only\npleased one but also afforded a means of observing her kindliness of\nheart, for she used to bid her nurse[192] give the teat not only to\nother children but even to her favourite playthings, and so invited them\nas it were to her table in kindliness of heart, and gave them a share of\nher good things, and provided the best entertainment for those that\npleased her.\n\nSec. III. But I see no reason, my dear wife, why these and similar traits\nin her character, that gave us delight in her lifetime, should now,\nwhen recalled to the memory, grieve and trouble us. Though, on the other\nhand, I fear that if we cease to grieve we may also cease to remember\nher, like Clymene, who says in the Play[193]--\n\n  \"I hate the supple bow of cornel-wood,\n   And would put down athletics,\"\n\nbecause she ever avoided and trembled at anything that reminded her of\nher son, for it brought grief with it, and it is natural to avoid\neverything that gives us pain. But as she gave us the greatest pleasure\nin embracing her and even in seeing and hearing her, so ought her memory\nliving and dwelling with us to give us more, aye, many times more, joy\nthan grief, since those arguments that we have often used to others\nought to be profitable to us in the present conjuncture, nor should we\nsit down and rail against fortune, opposing to those joys many more\ngriefs.\n\nSec. IV. Those who were present at the funeral tell me with evident\nsurprise that you put on no mourning, and that you bedizened up neither\nyourself nor your maids with the trappings of woe, and that there was no\nostentatious expenditure of money at the funeral, but that everything\nwas done orderly and silently in the presence of our relations. I am not\nmyself surprised that you, who never made a display either at the\ntheatre or on any other public occasion, and thought extravagance\nuseless even in the case of pleasure, should have been frugal in your\ngrief. For not only ought the chaste woman to remain uncorrupt in\nBacchanalian revels,[194] but she ought to consider her self-control not\na whit less necessary in the surges of sorrow and emotion of grief,\ncontending not (as most people think) against natural affection, but\nagainst the extravagant wishes of the soul. For we are indulgent to\nnatural affection in the regret, and honour, and memory that it pays to\nthe dead: but the insatiable desire for a passionate display of\nfuneral grief, coming to the climax in coronachs and beatings of the\nbreast, is not less unseemly than intemperance in pleasure and is\nunreasonably[195] forgiven only because pain and grief instead of\ndelight are elements in the unseemly exhibition. For what is more\nunreasonable than to curtail excessive laughter or any other\ndemonstration of joy, and to allow a free vent to copious lamentation\nand wailing that come from the same source? And how unreasonable is it,\nas some husbands do, to quarrel with their wives about perfume and\npurple robes, while they allow them to shear their heads in mourning,\nand to dress in black, and to sit in idle grief, and to lie down in\nweariness! And what is worst of all, how unreasonable is it for husbands\nto interfere if their wives chastise the domestics and maids\nimmoderately or without sufficient cause, yet allow them to ill-treat\nthemselves cruelly in cases and conjunctures that require repose and\nkindness!\n\nSec. V. But between us, my dear wife, there never was any occasion for such\na contest, nor do I think there ever will be. For as to your economy in\ndress and simple way of living, there is no philosopher with whom you\nare acquainted whom you did not amaze, nor is there any citizen who has\nnot observed[196] how plainly you dressed at sacred rites, and\nsacrifices, and theatres. You have also already on similar painful\noccasions exhibited great fortitude, as when you lost your eldest son,\nand again when our handsome Chaeron died. For when I was informed of his\ndeath, I well remember some guests from the sea were coming home with me\nto my house as well as some others, but when they saw the great quiet\nand tranquillity of the household, they thought, as they afterwards told\nsome other people, that no such disaster had really happened, but that\nthe news was untrue. So well had you ordered everything in the house, at\na time when there would have been great excuse for disorder. And yet you\nhad suckled that son, though your breast had had to be lanced owing to a\ncontusion. This was noble conduct and showed your great natural\naffection.\n\nSec. VI. But most mothers we see, when their children are brought to them\nclean and tidy, take them into their hands as playthings, and when they\ndie burst out into idle and unthankful grief, not so much out of\naffection--for affection is thoughtful and noble--but a great yearning\nfor vain glory[197] mixed with a little natural affection makes their\ngrief fierce and vehement and hard to appease. And this does not seem to\nhave escaped AEsop's notice, for he says that when Zeus assigned their\nhonours to various gods, Grief also claimed his. And Zeus granted his\nwish, with this limitation that only those who chose and wished need pay\nhim honour.[198] It is thus with grief at the outset, everyone welcomes\nit at first, but after it has got by process of time settled, and become\nan inmate of the house, it is with difficulty dislodged again, however\nmuch people may wish to dislodge it. Wherefore we ought to keep it out\nof doors, and not let it approach the garrison by wearing mourning or\nshearing the hair, or by any similar outward sign of sorrow. For these\nthings occurring daily and being importunate make the mind little, and\nnarrow, and unsocial, and harsh, and timid, so that, being besieged and\ntaken in hand by grief, it can no longer laugh, and shuns daylight, and\navoids society. This evil will be followed by neglect of the body, and\ndislike to anointing and the bath and the other usual modes of life:\nwhereas the very opposite ought to be the case, for the mind ill at ease\nespecially requires that the body should be in a sound and healthy\ncondition. For much of grief is blunted and relaxed when the body is\npermeated by calm, like the sea in fine weather. But if the body get\ninto a dry and parched condition from a low diet, and gives no proper\nnutriment to the soul, but only feeds it with sorrow and grief, as it\nwere with bitter and injurious exhalations, it cannot easily recover its\ntone however people may wish it should. Such is the state of the soul\nthat has been so ill-treated.\n\nSec. VII. Moreover, I should not hesitate to assert[199] that the most\nformidable peril in connection with this is \"the visits of bad\nwomen,\"[200] and their chatter, and joint lamentation, all which things\nfan the fire of sorrow and aggravate it, and suffer it not to be\nextinguished either by others or by itself. I am not ignorant what a\ntime of it you had lately, when you went to the aid of Theon's sister,\nand fought against the women who came on a visit of condolence and\nrushed up with lamentation and wailing, adding fuel as it were to her\nfire of grief in their simplicity. For when people see their friends'\nhouses on fire they put it out as quickly and energetically as they can,\nbut when their souls are on fire they themselves bring fuel. And if\nanybody has anything the matter with his eyes they will not let him put\nhis hands to them, however much he wish, nor do they themselves touch\nthe inflamed part; but a person in grief sits down and gives himself up\nto every chance comer, like a river [that all make use of], to stir up\nand aggravate the sore, so that from a little tickling and discomfort it\ngrows into a great and terrible disease. However, as to all this I know\nyou will be on your guard.\n\nSec. VIII. Try also often to carry yourself back in memory to that time\nwhen, this little girl not having been then born, we had nothing to\ncharge Fortune with, and to compare that time and this together, as if\nour circumstances had gone back to what they were then. Otherwise, my\ndear wife, we shall seem discontented at the birth of our little\ndaughter, if we consider our position before her birth as more perfect.\nBut we ought not to erase from our memory the two years of her life, but\nto consider them as a time of pleasure giving us gratification and\nenjoyment, and not to deem the shortness of the blessing as a great\nevil, nor to be unthankful for what was given us, because Fortune did\nnot give us a longer tenure as we wished. For ever to be careful what we\nsay about the gods, and to be cheerful and not rail against Fortune,\nbrings a sweet and goodly profit; and he who in such conjunctures as\nours mostly tries to remember his blessings, and turns and diverts his\nmind from the dark and disturbing things in life to the bright and\nradiant, either altogether extinguishes his grief or makes it small and\ndim from a comparison with his comforts. For as perfume gives pleasure\nto the nose, and is a remedy against disagreeable smells, so the\nremembrance of past happiness in present trouble gives all the relief\nthey require to those who do not shut out of their memory the blessings\nof the past, or always and everywhere rail against Fortune. And this\ncertainly ought not to be our case, that we should slander all our past\nlife because, like a book, it has one erasure in it, when all the other\npages have been bright and clean.\n\nSec. IX. You have often heard that happiness consists in right calculations\nresulting in a healthy state of mind, and that the changes which Fortune\nbrings about need not upset it, and introduce confusion into our life.\nBut if we too must, like most people, be governed by external events,\nand make an inventory of the dealings of Fortune, and constitute other\npeople the judges of our felicity, do not now regard the tears and\nlamentations of those who visit you, which by a faulty custom are\nlavished on everybody, but consider rather how happy you are still\nesteemed by them for your family, your house, and life. For it would be\nmonstrous, if others would gladly prefer your destiny to theirs, even\ntaking into account our present sorrow, that you should rail against and\nbe impatient at our present lot, and in consequence of our bitter grief\nnot reflect how much comfort is still left to us. But like those who\nquote imperfect verses of Homer[201] and neglect the finest passages of\nhis writings, to enumerate and complain of the trials of life, while you\npay no attention to its blessings, is to resemble those stingy misers,\nwho heap up riches and make no use of them when they have them, but\nlament and are impatient if they are lost. And if you grieve over her\ndying unmarried and childless, you can comfort yourself with the thought\nthat you have had both those advantages. For they should not be reckoned\nas great blessings in the case of those who do not enjoy them, and small\nblessings in the case of those who do. And that she has gone to a place\nwhere she is out of pain ought not to pain us, for what evil can we\nmourn for on her account if her pains are over? For even the loss of\nimportant things does not grieve us when we have no need of them. But it\nwas only little things that your Timoxena was deprived of, little things\nonly she knew, and in little things only did she rejoice; and how can\none be said to be deprived of things of which one had no conception, nor\nexperience, nor even desire for?\n\nSec. X. As to what you hear from some people, who get many to credit their\nnotion, that the dead suffer no evil or pain, I know that you are\nprevented from believing that by the tradition of our fathers and by the\nmystic symbols of the mysteries of Dionysus, for we are both initiated.\nConsider then that the soul, being incorruptible, is in the same\ncondition after death as birds that have been caught. For if it has been\na long time in the body, and during this mortal life has become tame by\nmany affairs and long habit, it swoops down again and a second time\nenters the body, and does not cease to be involved in the changes and\nchances of this life that result from birth. For do not suppose that old\nage is abused and ill-spoken of only for its wrinkles and white hair and\nweakness of body, but this is the worst feature about it, that it makes\nthe soul feeble in its remembrance of things in the other world, and\nstrong in its attachment to things in this world, and bends and presses\nit, if it retain the form which it had in the body from its experience.\nBut that soul, which does indeed enter the body, but remains only a\nshort time in it, being liberated from it by the higher powers, rears as\nit were at a damp and soft turning post in the race of life, and hastens\non to its destined goal. For just as if anyone put out a fire, and light\nit again at once, it is soon rekindled, and burns up again quickly, but\nif it has been out a long time, to light it again will be a far more\ndifficult and irksome task, so the soul that has sojourned only a short\ntime in this dark and mortal life, quickly recovers the light and blaze\nof its former bright life, whereas for those who have not had the good\nfortune very early, to use the language of the poet, \"to pass the gates\nof Hades,\"[202] nothing remains but a great passion for the things of\nthis life, and a softening of the soul through contact with the body,\nand a melting away of it as if by the agency of drugs.[203]\n\nSec. XI. And the truth of this is rendered more apparent in our hereditary\nand time-honoured customs and laws. For when infants die no libations\nare poured out for them, nor are any other rites performed for them,\nsuch as are always performed for adults. For they have no share in the\nearth or in things of the earth, nor do parents haunt their tombs or\nmonuments, or sit by their bodies when they are laid out. For the laws\ndo not allow us to mourn for such, seeing that it is an impious thing to\ndo so in the case of persons who have departed into a better and more\ndivine place and sphere. I know that doubts are entertained about this,\nbut since to doubt is harder for them than to believe, let us do\nexternally as the laws enjoin, and internally let us be more holy and\npure and chaste.[204]\n\n    [191] Timoxena, as we see later on, Sec. ix.\n\n    [192] Adopting Reiske's reading, [Greek: maston\n    keleuousa, proekaleito kathaper].\n\n    [193] Euripides' \"Phaethon,\" which exists only in\n    fragments. Clymene was the daughter of Oceanus, and\n    mother of Phaethon.\n\n    [194] An allusion to Euripides, \"Bacchae,\" 317, 318.\n\n    [195] Reading with Reiske [Greek: oudeni logo de], or\n    [Greek: alogos de]. Some such reading seems necessary to\n    comport with the [Greek: ti gar alogoteron] two lines\n    later.\n\n    [196] Reading [Greek: pareiches] with Xylander.\n\n    [197] A great craving for sympathy would be the modern\n    way of putting it.\n\n    [198] See the Fable of AEsop, entitled [Greek: Penthous\n    geras], No. 355. Halme. See also Plutarch's \"Consolation\n    to Apollonius,\" Sec. xix., where the Fable is told at some\n    length.\n\n    [199] Reading with Reiske [Greek: ouk an eipein\n    phobetheien].\n\n    [200] An allusion to Euripides, \"Andromache,\" 930. See\n    Plutarch's \"Conjugal Precepts,\" Sec. xl.\n\n    [201] The whole subject is discussed in full by\n    Athenaeus, p. 632, F. F. A false quantity we see was a\n    bugbear even before the days of Universities.\n\n    [202] Homer, \"Iliad,\" v. 646; xxiii. 71.\n\n    [203] This section is dreadfully corrupt. I have\n    adopted, it will be seen, the suggestions of Wyttenbach.\n\n    [204] This Consolatory Letter ends rather abruptly. It\n    is probable that there was more of it.\n\n\n\n\nTHAT VIRTUE MAY BE TAUGHT.\n\n\nSec. I. As to virtue we deliberate and dispute whether good sense, and\njustice, and rectitude can be taught: and then we are not surprised\nthat, while the works of orators, and pilots, and musicians, and\nhouse-builders, and farmers, are innumerable, good men are only a name\nand expression, like Centaurs and Giants and Cyclopes, and that it is\nimpossible to find any virtuous action without alloy of base motives, or\nany character free from vice: but if nature produces spontaneously\nanything good, it is marred by much that is alien to it, as fruit choked\nby weeds. Men learn to play on the harp, and to dance, and to read, and\nto farm, and to ride on horseback: they learn how to put on their shoes\nand clothes generally: people teach how to pour out wine, how to cook;\nand all these things cannot be properly performed, without being\nlearned. The art of good living alone, though all those things I have\nmentioned only exist on its account, is untaught, unmethodical,\ninartistic, and supposed to come by the light of nature!\n\nSec. II. O sirs, by asserting that virtue is not a thing to be taught, why\nare we making it unreal? For if teaching produces it, the deprivation of\nteaching prevents it. And yet, as Plato says, a discord and false note\non the lyre makes not brother go to war with brother, nor sets friends\nat variance, nor makes states hostile to one another, so as to do and\nsuffer at one another's hands the most dreadful things:[205] nor can\nanyone say that there was ever a dissension in any city as to the\npronunciation of Telchines: nor in a private house any difference\nbetween man and wife as to woof and warp. And yet no one without\nlearning would undertake to ply the loom, or write a book, or play on\nthe lyre, though he would thereby do no great harm, but he fears making\nhimself ridiculous, for as Heraclitus says, \"It is better to hide one's\nignorance,\" yet everyone thinks himself competent to manage a house and\nwife and the state and hold any magisterial office. On one occasion,\nwhen a boy was eating rather greedily, Diogenes gave the lad's tutor a\nblow with his fist, ascribing the fault not to the boy, who had not\nlearnt how to eat properly, but to the tutor who had not taught him. And\ncan one not properly handle a dish or a cup, unless one has learnt from\na boy, as Aristophanes bids us, \"not to giggle, nor eat too fast, nor\ncross our legs,\"[206] and yet be perfectly fit to manage a family and\ncity, and wife, and live well, and hold office, when one has not learnt\nhow one should behave in the conduct of life? When Aristippus was asked\nby someone, \"Are you everywhere then?\" he smiled and said, \"If I am\neverywhere, I lose my passage money.\"[207] Why should not you also say,\n\"If men are not better for learning, the money paid to tutors is also\nlost?\" For just as nurses mould with their hands the child's body, so\ntutors, receiving it immediately it is weaned, mould its soul, teaching\nit by habit the first vestiges of virtue. And the Lacedaemonian, who was\nasked, what good he did as a tutor, replied, \"I make what is good\npleasant to boys.\" Moreover tutors teach boys to walk in the streets\nwith their heads down,[208] to touch salt fish with one finger only,\nother fish bread and meat with two, to scratch themselves in such a way,\nand in such a way to put on their cloak.[209]\n\nSec. III. What then? He that says that the doctor's skill is wanted in the\ncase of a slight skin-eruption or whitlow, but is not needed in the case\nof pleurisy, fever, or lunacy, in what respect does he differ from the\nman that says that schools and teaching and precepts are only for small\nand boyish duties, while great and important matters are to be left to\nmere routine and accident? For, as the man is ridiculous who says we\nought to learn to row but not to steer, so he who allows all other arts\nto be learnt, but not virtue, seems to act altogether contrary to the\nScythians. For they, as Herodotus tells us,[210] blind their slaves that\nthey may remain with them, but such an one puts the eye of reason into\nslavish and servile arts, and takes it away from virtue. And the general\nIphicrates well answered Callias, the son of Chabrias, who asked him,\n\"What are you? an archer? a targeteer? cavalry, or infantry?\" \"None of\nthese,\" said he, \"but the commander of them all.\" Ridiculous therefore\nis he who says that the use of the bow and other arms and the sling and\nriding are to be taught, but that strategy and how to command an army\ncomes by the light of nature. Still more ridiculous is he who asserts\nthat good sense alone need not be taught, without which all other arts\nare useless and profitless, seeing that she is the mistress and orderer\nand arranger of all of them, and puts each of them to their proper use.\nFor example, what grace would there be in a banquet, though the servants\nhad been well-trained, and had learnt how to dress and cook the meat\nand pour out the wine,[211] unless there was good order and method\namong the waiters?[212]\n\n    [205] Plato, \"Clitophon,\" p. 407, C.\n\n    [206] Aristophanes, \"Clouds,\" 983.\n\n    [207] Does Juvenal allude to this, viii. 97?\n\n    [208] So as to look modest and be \"Ingenui vultus pueri,\n    ingenuique pudoris.\"\n\n    [209] Reading with Salmasius, [Greek: anabalein].\n\n    [210] Herodotus, iv. 2. The historian, however, assigns\n    other reasons for blinding them.\n\n    [211] A line from \"Odyssey,\" xv. 323.\n\n    [212] \"Malim [Greek: daitumonas].\" Wyttenbach, who\n    remarks generally on this short treatise, \"Non integra\n    videtur esse nec continua disputatio, sed disputationis,\n    Plutarcheae tamen, excerptum compendium.\"\n\n\n\n\nON VIRTUE AND VICE.\n\n\nSec. I. Clothes seem to warm a man, not by throwing out heat themselves\n(for in itself every garment is cold, whence in great heat or in fevers\npeople frequently change and shift them), but the heat which a man\nthrows out from his own body is retained and wrapped in by a dress\nfitting close to the body, which does not admit of the heat being\ndissipated when once it has got firm hold. A somewhat similar case is\nthe idea that deceives the mass of mankind, that if they could live in\nbig houses, and get together a quantity of slaves and money, they would\nhave a happy life. But a happy and cheerful life is not from without, on\nthe contrary, a man adds the pleasure and gratification to the things\nthat surround him, his temperament being as it were the source of his\nfeelings.[213]\n\n  \"But when the fire blazes the house is brighter to look at.\"[214]\n\nSo, too, wealth is pleasanter, and fame and power more splendid, when a\nman has joy in his heart, seeing that men can bear easily and quietly\npoverty and exile and old age if their character is a contented and mild\none.\n\nSec. II. For as perfumes make threadbare coats and rags to smell sweet,\nwhile the body of Anchises sent forth a fetid discharge, \"distilling\nfrom his back on to his linen robe,\" so every kind of life with virtue\nis painless and pleasurable, whereas vice if infused into it makes\nsplendour and wealth and magnificence painful, and sickening, and\nunwelcome to its possessors.\n\n  \"He is deemed happy in the market-place,\n   But when he gets him home, thrice miserable,\n   His wife rules all, quarrels, and domineers.\"[215]\n\nAnd yet there would be no great difficulty in getting rid of a bad wife,\nif one was a man and not a slave. But a man cannot by writing a bill of\ndivorce to his vice get rid of all trouble at once, and enjoy\ntranquillity by living apart: for it is ever present in his vitals, and\nsticks to him night and day, \"and burns without a torch, and consigns\nhim to gloomy old age,\"[216] being a disagreeable fellow-traveller owing\nto its arrogance, and a costly companion at table owing to its\ndaintiness, and an unpleasant bed-fellow, disturbing and marring sleep\nby anxiety and care and envy. For during such a one's sleep the body\nindeed gets rest, but the mind has terrors, and dreams, and\nperturbations, owing to superstition,\n\n  \"For when my trouble catches me asleep,\n   I am undone by the most fearful dreams,\"\n\nas one says. For thus envy, and fear, and anger, and lust affect one.\nDuring the daytime, indeed, vice looks abroad and imitates the behaviour\nof others, is shy and conceals its evil desires, and does not altogether\ngive way to its propensities, but often even resists and fights stoutly\nagainst them; but in sleep it escapes the observation of people and the\nlaw, and, being as far as possible removed from fear or modesty, gives\nevery passion play, and excites its depravity and licentiousness, for,\nto borrow Plato's expression,[217] \"it attempts incest with its mother,\nand procures for itself unlawful meats, and abstains from no action\nwhatever,\" and enjoys lawlessness as far as is practicable in visions\nand phantasies, that end in no complete pleasure or satisfaction, but\ncan only stir up and inflame the passions and morbid emotions.\n\nSec. III. Where then is the pleasure of vice, if there is nowhere in it\nfreedom from anxiety and pain, or independence, or tranquillity, or\nrest?[218] A healthy and sound constitution does indeed augment the\npleasures of the body, but for the soul there can be no lasting joy or\ngratification, unless cheerfulness and fearlessness and courage supply a\ncalm serenity free from storms; for otherwise, even if hope or delight\nsmile on the soul, it is soon confused and disturbed by care lifting up\nits head again, so that it is but the calm of a sunken rock.\n\nSec. IV. Pile up gold, heap up silver, build covered walks, fill your house\nwith slaves and the town with debtors, unless you lay to rest the\npassions of the soul, and put a curb on your insatiable desires, and rid\nyourself of fear and anxiety, you are but pouring out wine for a man in\na fever, and giving honey to a man who is bilious, and laying out a\nsumptuous banquet for people who are suffering from dysentery, and can\nneither retain their food nor get any benefit from it, but are made even\nworse by it. Have you never observed how sick persons turn against and\nspit out and refuse the daintiest and most costly viands, though people\noffer them and almost force them down their throats, but on another\noccasion, when their condition is different, their respiration good,\ntheir blood in a healthy state, and their natural warmth restored, they\nget up, and enjoy and make a good meal of simple bread and cheese and\ncress? Such, also, is the effect of reason on the mind. You will be\ncontented, if you have learned what is good and honourable. You will\nlive daintily and be a king in poverty, and enjoy a quiet and private\nlife as much as the public life of general or statesman. By the aid of\nphilosophy you will live not unpleasantly, for you will learn to extract\npleasure from all places and things: wealth will make you happy,\nbecause it will enable you to benefit many; and poverty, as you will not\nthen have many anxieties; and glory, for it will make you honoured; and\nobscurity, for you will then be safe from envy.\n\n    [213] Happiness comes from within, not from without. The\n    true seat of happiness is the mind. Compare Milton,\n    \"Paradise Lost,\" Book i. 254, 255:--\n\n      \"The mind is its own place, and in itself\n       Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.\"\n\n    [214] Homeric Epigrammata, xiii. 5.\n\n    [215] Wyttenbach thinks these lines are by Menander.\n    Plutarch quotes them again \"On Contentedness of Mind,\" Sec.\n    xi.\n\n    [216] Hesiod, \"Works and Days,\" 705.\n\n    [217] Plato, \"Republic,\" ix. p. 571, D. Quoted again,\n    \"How one may be aware of one's Progress in Virtue,\" Sec.\n    xii.\n\n    [218] And so Dr. Young truly says,--\n\n      \"A man of pleasure is a man of pains.\"\n\n                            _Night Thoughts._\n\n\n\n\nON MORAL VIRTUE.\n\n\nSec. I. I propose to discuss what is called and appears to be moral virtue\n(which differs mainly from contemplative virtue in that it has emotion\nfor its matter, and reason for its form), what its nature is, and how it\nsubsists, and whether that part of the soul which takes it in is\nfurnished with reason of its own, or participates in something foreign,\nand if the latter, whether as things that are mixed with something\nbetter than themselves, or rather as that which is subject to\nsuperintendence and command, and may be said to share in the power of\nthat which commands. For I think it is clear that virtue can exist and\ncontinue altogether free from matter and mixture. My best course will be\nto run briefly over the views of others, not so much to display my\nresearch as because, when their ideas have been set forth, mine will\nbecome more clear and be on a firmer basis.\n\nSec. II. Menedemus of Eretria took away the number and differences of\nvirtues, on the ground that virtue was one though it had many names; for\nthat just as mortal is synonymous with man, so temperance and bravery\nand justice were the same thing. And Aristo of Chios also made virtue\none in substance, and called it soundness of mind: its diversities and\nvarieties only existing in certain relations, as if one called our sight\nwhen it took in white objects white-sight, and when it took in black\nobjects black-sight, and so on. For virtue, when it considers what it\nought to do and what it ought not to do, is called prudence; and when it\ncurbs passion, and sets a fit and proper limit to pleasure, it is called\nself-control; and when it is associated with our dealings and covenants\nwith one another, it is called justice; just as a knife is one article,\nthough at different times it cuts different things in half: and so, too,\nfire acts on different matter though it has but one property. And Zeno\nof Cittium seems to incline somewhat to the same view, as he defines\nprudence in distribution as justice, in choice as self-control, in\nendurance as fortitude: and those who defend these views maintain that\nby the term prudence Zeno means knowledge. But Chrysippus, thinking each\nparticular virtue should be arranged under its particular quality,\nunwittingly stirred up, to use Plato's language, \"a whole swarm of\nvirtues,\"[219] unusual and unknown. For as from brave we get bravery,\nand from mild mildness, and from just justice, so from acceptable he got\nacceptableness, and from good goodness, and from great greatness, and\nfrom the honourable honourableness, and he made virtues of many other\nsuch clevernesses, affabilities, and versatilities, and filled\nphilosophy, which did not at all require it, with many strange names.\n\nSec. III. Now all these agree in supposing virtue to be a disposition and\nfaculty of the governing part of the soul set in motion by reason, or\nrather to be reason itself conformable and firm and immutable. They\nthink further that the emotional and unreasoning part of the soul is not\nby any natural difference distinct from the reasoning part, but that\nthat same part of the soul, which they call intellect and the leading\nprinciple of action, being altogether diverted and changed by the\npassions, and by the alterations which habit or disposition have brought\nabout, becomes either vice or virtue, without having in itself any\nunreasoning element, but that it is called unreasoning when, by the\nstrong and overpowering force of appetite, it launches out into excesses\ncontrary to the direction of reason. For passion, according to them, is\nonly vicious and intemperate reason, getting its strength and power from\nbad and faulty judgement. But all of those philosophers seem to have\nbeen ignorant that we are all in reality two-fold and composite, though\nthey did not recognize it, and only saw the more evident mixture of soul\nand body. And yet that there is in the soul itself something composite\nand two-fold and dissimilar (the unreasoning part of it, as if another\nbody, being by necessity and nature mixed up with and united to reason),\nseems not to have escaped the notice even of Pythagoras, as we infer\nfrom his zeal for music, which he introduced to calm and soothe the\nsoul, as knowing that it was not altogether amenable to precept and\ninstruction, or redeemable from vice only by reason, but that it needed\nsome other persuasion and moulding and softening influence to co-operate\nwith reason, unless it were to be altogether intractable and refractory\nto philosophy. And Plato saw very plainly and confidently and decidedly\nthat the soul of this universe is not simple or uncomposite or uniform,\nbut is made up of forces that work uniformly and differently, in the one\ncase it is ever marshalled in the same order and moves about in one\nfixed orbit, in the other case it is divided into motions and orbits\ncontrary to each other and changing about, and thus generates\ndifferences in things. So, too, the soul of man, being a part or portion\nof the soul of the universe, and compounded upon similar principles and\nproportions, is not simple or entirely uniform, but has one part\nintelligent and reasoning, which is intended by nature to rule and\ndominate in man, and another part unreasoning, and subject to passion\nand caprice, and disorderly, and in need of direction. And this last\nagain is divided into two parts, one of which, being most closely\nconnected with the body, is called desire, and the other, sometimes\ntaking part with the body, sometimes with reason, lending its influence\nagainst the body, is called anger. And the difference between reason and\nsense on the one hand, and anger and desire on the other, is shown by\ntheir antipathy to one another, so that they are often at variance with\none another as to what is best.[220] These were at first[221] the views\nof Aristotle, as is clear from his writings, though afterwards he joined\nanger to desire, as if anger were nothing but a desire and passion for\nrevenge. However, he always considered the emotional and unreasoning\npart of the soul as distinct from the reasoning, not that it is\naltogether unreasoning as the perceptive, or nutritive, or vegetative\nportions of the soul, for these are always deaf and disobedient to\nreason, and in a certain sense are off-shoots from the flesh, and\naltogether attached to the body; but the emotional, though it is\ndestitute of any reason of its own, yet is naturally inclined to listen\nto reason and sense, and turn and submit and mould itself accordingly,\nunless it be entirely corrupted by brute pleasure and a life of\nindulgence.\n\nSec. IV. As for those who wonder that what is unreasoning should obey\nreason, they do not seem to me to recognize the power of reason, how\ngreat it is, and how far-reaching its dominion is--a power not gained by\nharsh and repelling methods, but by attractive ones, as mild persuasion\nwhich always accomplishes more than compulsion or violence. For even the\nspirit and nerves and bones, and other parts of the body, though devoid\nof reason, yet at any instigation of reason, when she shakes as it were\nthe reins, are all on the alert and compliant and obedient, the feet to\nrun, and the hands to throw or lift, at her bidding. Right excellently\nhas the poet set forth in the following lines the sympathy and\naccordance between the unreasoning and reason:--\n\n  \"Thus were her beauteous cheeks diffused with tears,\n   Weeping her husband really present then.\n   But though Odysseus pitied her in heart,\n   His eyes like horn or steel impassive stood\n   Within their lids, and craft his tears repressed.\"[222]\n\nSo completely under the control of judgement did he keep his spirit and\nblood and tears. The same is shown by the subsidence of our passions,\nwhich are laid to rest in the presence of handsome women or boys, whom\nreason and the law forbid us to touch; a case which most frequently\nhappens to lovers, when they hear that they have unwittingly fallen in\nlove with a sister or daughter. For at once passion is laid at the voice\nof reason, and the body exhibits its members as subservient to decorum.\nAnd frequently in the case of dainty food, people very much attracted by\nit, if they find out at the time or learn afterwards that they have\neaten what is unclean or unlawful, not only suffer distress and grief\nin their imagination, but even their very body is upset by the notion,\nand violent retchings and vomitings follow.[223] I fear I should seem to\nbe introducing merely novel and enticing arguments, if I were to\nenumerate stringed instruments and lyres, and harps and flutes, and\nother harmonious musical instruments, which, although inanimate, yet\nspeak to man's passions, rejoicing with him, and mourning with him, and\nchiming in with him, and rioting with him,--in a word, falling in with\nthe vein and emotions and characters of those that play on them. And\nthey say that Zeno on one occasion, going into the theatre when\nAmoebeus[224] was playing on the harp, said to the pupils, \"Let us go\nand learn what music can be produced by guts and nerves and wood and\nbones, when they preserve proportion and time and order.\" But passing\nthese things over, I would gladly learn from them, if, when they see\ndogs and horses and birds domesticated, and by habit and training\nuttering sounds that can be understood, and making obedient movements\nand gestures, and acting quietly and usefully to us, and when they\nnotice that Achilles in Homer cheers on horses as well as men to the\nfight,[225] they still wonder and doubt, whether the passionate and\nemotional and painful and pleasurable elements in us are by nature\nobedient to the voice of reason, and influenced and affected by it,\nseeing that those elements are not apart from us or detached from us, or\nformed from outside, or hammered into us by force, but are innate in us,\nand ever associate with us, and are nourished within us, and abound in\nus through habit. Accordingly moral character is well called by the\nGreeks [Greek: ethos], for it is, to speak generally, a quality of the\nunreasoning element in man, and is called [Greek: ethos] because the\nunreasoning element moulded by reason receives this quality and\ndifference by habit, which is called [Greek: ethos].[226] Not that\nreason wishes to expel passion altogether (that is neither possible,\nnor advisable), but only to keep it within bounds and order, and to\nengender the moral virtues, which are not apathetic, but hold the due\nproportion and mean in regard to passion. And this she does by reducing\nthe power of passion to a good habit. For there are said to be three\nthings existing in the soul, power, passion, and habit. Power is the\nprinciple or matter of passion, as power to be angry, ashamed, or\nconfident: and passion is the actual setting in motion of that power,\nbeing itself anger, confidence, or shame; and habit is the strong\nformation of power in the unreasoning element engendered by use, being\nvice if the passions are badly tutored by reason, virtue if they are\nwell tutored.\n\nSec. V. But since they do not regard every virtue as a mean, nor call it\nmoral, we must discuss this difference by approaching the matter more\nfrom first principles. Some things in the world exist absolutely, as the\nearth, the sky, the stars, and the sea; others have relation to us, as\ngood and evil, as what is desirable or to be avoided, as pleasant and\npainful: and since reason has an eye to both of these classes, when it\nconsiders the former it is scientific and contemplative, when it\nconsiders the latter it is deliberative and practical. And prudence is\nthe virtue in the latter case, as knowledge in the former. And there is\nthis difference between prudence and knowledge, prudence consists in\napplying the contemplative to the practical and emotional so as to make\nreason paramount. On which account it often needs the help of fortune;\nwhereas knowledge needs neither the help of fortune nor deliberation to\ngain its ends: for it considers only things which are always the same.\nAnd as the geometrician does not deliberate about the triangle, as to\nwhether its interior angles are together equal to two right angles, for\nhe knows it as a fact--and deliberation only takes place in the case of\nthings which differ at different times, not in the case of things which\nare certain and unchangeable--so the contemplative mind having its scope\nin first principles, and things that are fixed, and that ever have one\nnature which does not admit of change, has no need for deliberation. But\nprudence, which has to enter into matters full of obscurity and\nconfusion, frequently has to take its chance, and to deliberate about\nthings which are uncertain, and, in carrying the deliberation into\npractice, has to co-operate with the unreasoning element, which comes to\nits help, and is involved in its decisions, for they need an impetus.\nNow this impetus is given to passion by the moral character, an impetus\nrequiring reason to regulate it, that it may render moderate and not\nexcessive help, and at the seasonable time. For the emotional and\nunreasoning elements are subject to motions sometimes too quick and\nvehement, at other times too remiss and slow. And so everything we do\nmay be a success from one point of view, but a failure from many points\nof view; as to hit the mark one thing only is requisite, but one may\nmiss it in various ways, as one may shoot beyond or too short. This then\nis the function of practical reason following nature, to prevent our\npassions going either too far or too short. For where from weakness and\nwant of strength, or from fear and hesitation, the impetus gives in and\nabandons what is good, there reason is by to stir it up and rekindle it;\nand where on the other hand it goes ahead too fast and in disorder,\nthere it represses and checks its zeal. And thus setting bounds to the\nemotional motions, it engenders in the unreasoning part of the soul\nmoral virtues, which are the mean between excess and deficiency. Not\nthat we can say that all virtue exists in the mean, but knowledge and\nprudence being in no need of the unreasoning element, and being situated\nin the pure and unemotional part of the soul, is a complete perfection\nand power of reason, whereby we get the most divine and happy fruit of\nunderstanding. But that virtue which is necessary because of the body,\nand needs the help of the passions as an instrument towards the\npractical, not destroying or doing away with but ordering and regulating\nthe unreasoning part of the soul, is perfection as regards its power and\nquality, but in quantity it is a mean correcting both excess and\ndeficiency.\n\nSec. VI. But since the word mean has a variety of meanings--for there is\none kind of mean compounded of two simple extremes, as grey is the mean\nbetween white and black; and there is another kind of mean, where that\nwhich contains and is contained is the mean between the containing and\ncontained, as eight is the mean between twelve and four; and there is a\nthird kind of mean which has part in neither extreme, as the indifferent\nis the mean between good and bad,--virtue cannot be a mean in any of\nthese ways. For neither is it a mixture of vices, nor containing that\nwhich is defective is it contained by that which is excessive, nor is it\nagain altogether free from, emotional storms of passion, wherein are\nexcess and deficiency. But it is, and is commonly so called, a mean like\nthat in music and harmony. For as in music there is a middle note\nbetween the highest and lowest in the scale, which being perfectly in\ntune avoids the sharpness of the one and the flatness of the other; so\nvirtue, being a motion and power in the unreasoning part of the soul,\ntakes away the remissness and strain, and generally speaking the excess\nand defect of the appetite, by reducing each of the passions to a state\nof mean and rectitude. For example, they tell us that bravery is the\nmean between cowardice and foolhardiness, whereof the former is a\ndefect, the latter an excess of anger: and that liberality is the mean\nbetween stinginess and prodigality: and that meekness is the mean\nbetween insensibility and savageness: and so of temperance and justice,\nthat the latter, being concerned with contracts, is to assign neither\ntoo much nor too little to litigants, and that the former ever reduces\nthe passions to the proper mean between apathy (or insensibility) and\ngross intemperance. This last illustration serves excellently to show us\nthe radical difference between the unreasoning and reasoning parts of\nthe soul, and to prove to us that passion and reason are wide as the\npoles asunder. For the difference would not be discernible between\ntemperance and continence, nor between intemperance and incontinence, in\npleasure and desires, if the appetite and judgement were in the same\nportion of the soul. Now temperance is a state, wherein reason holds the\nreins, and manages the passions as a quiet and well-broken-in animal,\nfinding them obedient and submissive to the reins and masters over their\ndesires.[227] Continence on the other hand is not driven by reason\nwithout some trouble, not being docile but jibbing and kicking, like an\nanimal compelled by bit and bridle and whip and backing, being in itself\nfull of struggles and commotion. Plato explains this by his simile of\nthe chariot-horses of the soul, the worse one of which ever kicking\nagainst the other and disturbing the charioteer, he is obliged ever to\nhold them in with all his might, and to tighten the reins, lest, to\nborrow the language of Simonides, \"he should drop from his hands the\npurple reins.\" And so they do not consider continence to be an absolute\nvirtue, but something less than a virtue; for no mean arises from the\nconcord of the worse with the better, nor is the excess of the passion\ncurtailed, nor does the appetite obey or act in unison with reason, but\nit both gives and suffers trouble, and is constrained by force, and is\nas it were an enemy in a town given up to faction.\n\n  \"The town is full of incense, and at once\n   Resounds with triumph-songs and bitter wailing.\"[228]\n\nSuch is the state of soul of the continent person owing to his\nconflicting condition. On the same grounds they consider incontinence to\nbe something less than vice, but intemperance to be a complete vice. For\nit, having both its appetite and reason depraved, is by the one\ncarried away to desire disgraceful things,[229] by the other, through\nbad judgement consenting to desire, loses even the perception of\nwrongdoing. But incontinence keeps its judgement sound through reason,\nbut is carried away against its judgement by passion which is too strong\nfor reason, whence it differs from intemperance. For in the one case\nreason is mastered by passion, in the other it does not even make a\nfight against it, in the one case it opposes its desires even when it\nfollows them, in the other it is their advocate and even leader, in the\none case it gladly participates in what is wrong, in the other\nsorrowfully, in the one case it willingly rushes into what is\ndisgraceful, in the other it abandons the honourable unwillingly. And as\nthere is a difference in their deeds, so no less manifest is the\ndifference in their language. For these are the expressions of the\nintemperate. \"What grace or pleasure in life is there without golden\nAphrodite? May I die, when I care no longer for these things!\" And\nanother says, \"To eat, to drink, to enjoy the gifts of Aphrodite is\neverything, for all other things I look upon as supplementary,\" as if\nfrom the bottom of his soul he gave himself up to pleasures, and was\ncompletely subverted by them. And not less so he who said, \"Let me be\nruined, it is best for me,\" had his judgement diseased through his\npassion. But the sayings of incontinence are quite different, as\n\n  \"My nature forces me against my judgement,\"[230]\n\nand\n\n  \"Alas! it is poor mortals' plague and bane,\n   To know the good, yet not the good pursue.\"[231]\n\nAnd again--\n\n  \"My anger draws me on, has no control,\n  'Tis but a sandy hook against a tempest.\"\n\nHere he compares not badly to a sandy hook, a sorry kind of anchor, the\nsoul that is unsettled and has no steady reason, but surrenders judgment\nthrough flabbiness and feebleness. And not unlike this image are the\nlines,\n\n  \"As some ship moored and fastened to the shore,\n   If the wind blows, the cables cannot hold it.\"\n\nBy cables he means the judgement which resists what is disgraceful,\nthough sometimes it gives way under a tremendous storm of passion. For\nindeed it is with full sail that the intemperate man is borne on to\npleasure by his desires, and surrenders himself to them, and even plays\nthe part of pilot to the vessel; whereas the incontinent man is dragged\nsidelong into the disgraceful, and is its victim, as it were, while he\ndesires eagerly to resist and overcome his passion, as Timon bantered\nAnaxarchus: \"The recklessness and frantic energy of Anaxarchus to rush\nanywhere seemed like a dog's courage, but he being aware of it was\nmiserable, so people said, but his voluptuous nature ever plunged him\ninto excesses again, nature which even most sophists are afraid of.\"\nFor neither is the wise man continent but temperate, nor the fool\nincontinent but intemperate; for the one delights in what is good, and\nthe other is not vexed at what is bad. Incontinence, therefore, is a\nmark of a sophistical soul, endued with reason which cannot abide by\nwhat it knows to be right.\n\nSec. VII. Such, then, are the differences between incontinence and\nintemperance, and continence and temperance have their counterpart and\nanalogous differences; for remorse and trouble and annoyance are\ncompanions of continence, whereas in the soul of the temperate person\nthere is everywhere such equability and calm and soundness, by which the\nunreasoning is adjusted and harmonized to reason, being adorned with\nobedience and wonderful mildness, that looking at it you would say with\nthe poet, \"At once the wind was laid, and a wondrous calm ensued, for\nthe god allayed the fury of the waves,\"[232] reason having extinguished\nthe vehement and furious and frantic motions of the desires, and making\nthose which nature necessarily requires sympathetic and obedient and\nfriendly and co-operative in carrying purposes out in action, so that\nthey do not outrun or come short of reason, or behave disorderly and\ndisobediently, but that every appetite is tractable, \"as sucking foal\nruns by the side of its dam.\"[233] And this confirms the saying of\nXenocrates about true philosophers, that they alone do willingly what\nall others do unwillingly at the compulsion of the law, as dogs are\nturned away from their pleasures by a blow, or cats by a noise, looking\nat nothing but their danger. It is clear then that there is in the soul\na perception of such a generic and specific difference in relation to\nthe desires, as of something fighting against and opposing them. But\nsome say that there is no radical distinction difference or variance\nbetween reason and passion, but that there is a shifting of one and the\nsame reason from one to the other, which escapes our notice owing to the\nsharpness and quickness of the change, so that we do not see at a glance\nthat desire and repentance, anger and fear, giving way to what is\ndisgraceful through passion, and recovery from the same, are the same\nnatural property of the soul. For desire and fear and anger and the like\nthey consider only depraved opinions and judgements, not in one portion\nof the soul only but in all its leading principles, inclinations and\nyieldings, and assents and impulses, and generally speaking in its\nenergies soon changed, like the sallies of children, whose fury and\nexcessive violence is unstable by reason of their weakness. But these\nviews are, in the first place, contrary to evidence and observation; for\nno one observes in himself a change from passion to judgement, and from\njudgement back to passion; nor does anyone cease from loving when he\nreflects that it would be well to break the affair off and strive with\nall his might against it; nor again, does he put on one side reflection\nand judgement, when he gives way and is overcome by desire. Moreover,\nwhen he resists passion by reason, he does not escape passion\naltogether; nor again, when he is mastered by passion does he fail to\ndiscern his fault through reason: so that neither by passion does he\nabolish reason, nor does he by reason get rid of passion, but is tossed\nabout to and fro alternately between passion and reason. And those who\nsuppose that the leading principle in the soul is at one time desire,\nand at another time reason in opposition to desire, are not unlike\npeople who would make the hunter and the animal he hunts one and the\nsame person, but alternately changing from hunter to animal, from animal\nto hunter. As their eyesight is plainly deficient, so these are faulty\nin regard to their perceptions, seeing that they must perceive in\nthemselves not a change of one and the same thing, but a difference and\nstruggle between two opposing elements. \"What then,\" say they, \"does not\nthe deliberative element in a man often hold different views, and is it\nnot swayed to different opinions as to expediency, and yet it is one and\nthe same thing?\" Certainly, I reply; but the case is not similar. For\nthe rational part of the soul does not fight against itself, but though\nit has only one faculty, it makes use of different reasonings; or rather\nthe reasoning is one, but employs itself in different subjects as on\ndifferent matter. And so there is neither pain in reasonings without\npassion, nor are men compelled, as it were, to choose something contrary\nto their judgement, unless indeed some passion, as in a balance,\nsecretly predominates in the scale. For this often happens, reason not\nopposing reason, but ambition, or contention, or favour, or jealousy, or\nfear opposing reason, that we do but think there is a difference between\ntwo reasons, as in the line, \"They were ashamed to refuse, and feared to\naccept,\"[234] or, \"To die in battle is dreadful but glorious; but not to\ndie, though cowardly, is more pleasant.\" Moreover, in judgements about\ncontracts passions come in and cause the greatest delay; and in the\ncouncils of kings those who speak to ingratiate themselves do not favour\neither of the two cases, but give themselves up to passion without\nregard to what is expedient; and so those that rule in aristocracies do\nnot allow orators to be pathetic in their pleadings. For reasoning\nwithout passion has a direct tendency to justice, while if passion is\ninfused, a contest and difference is excited between pleasure and pain\non the one hand, and judgement and justice on the other. For otherwise\nhow is it that in philosophical speculations people are with little pain\nfrequently induced by others to change their opinions, and even\nAristotle himself and Democritus and Chrysippus have rejected without\ntrouble or pain, and even with pleasure, some of the opinions which they\nformerly advocated? For no passion stands in the way in the theoretic\nand scientific part of the soul, and the unreasoning element is quiet\nand gives no trouble therein. And so reason gladly inclines to the\ntruth, when it is evident, and abandons error; for in it, and not in\npassion, lies a willingness to listen to conviction and to change one's\nopinions on conviction. But the deliberations and judgements and\narbitrations of most people as to matters of fact being mixed up with\npassion, give reason no easy or pleasant access, as she is held fast and\nincommoded by the unreasonable, which assails her through pleasure, or\nfear, or pain, or desire. And the decision in these cases lies with\nsense which has dealings with both passion and reason, for if one gets\nthe better of the other the other is not destroyed, but only dragged\nalong by force in spite of its resistance. For he who is dissatisfied\nwith himself for falling in love calls in reason to his aid to overcome\nhis passion, for both reason and passion are in his soul, and he\nperceives they are contrary one to the other, and violently represses\nthe inflammatory one of the two. On the other hand, in deliberations and\nspeculations without passion (such as the contemplative part of the soul\nis most conversant with), if they are evenly balanced no decision takes\nplace, but the matter is left in doubt, which is a sort of stationary\nposition of the mind in conflicting arguments. But should there be any\ninclination to one of the two sides, the most powerful opinion carries\nthe day, yet without giving pain or creating hostility. And, generally\nspeaking, when reason seems opposed to reason, there is no perception of\ntwo distinct things, but only of one under different phases, whereas\nwhen the unreasoning has a controversy with reason, since there can be\nno victory or defeat without pain, forthwith they tear the soul in\ntwo,[235] and make the difference between them apparent.\n\nSec. VIII. And not only from their contest, but quite as much from their\nagreement, can we see that the source of the passions is something quite\ndistinct from that of reason. For since[236] one may love either a good\nand excellent child or a bad and vicious one, and be unreasonably angry\nwith one's children or parents, yet in behalf of them show a just anger\nagainst enemies or tyrants; as in the one case there is the perception\nof a difference and struggle between passion and reason, so in the other\nthere is a perception of persuasion and agreement inclining, as it were,\nthe scale, and giving their help. Moreover a good man marrying a wife\naccording to the laws is minded to associate and live with her justly\nand soberly, but as time goes on, his intercourse with her having\nengendered a strong passion for her, he perceives that his love and\naffection are increased by reason. Just so, again, young fellows falling\nin with kindly teachers at first submit themselves to them out of\nnecessity and emulation for learning, but end by loving them, and\ninstead of being their pupils and scholars become and get the title of\ntheir lovers. The same is the case in cities in respect to good\nmagistrates, and neighbours, and connections by marriage; for beginning\nat first to associate with one another from necessity and propriety,\nthey afterwards go on to love almost insensibly, reason drawing over and\npersuading the emotional element. And he who said--\n\n  \"There are two kinds of shame, the one not bad,\n   The other a sad burden to a family,\"[237]\n\nis it not clear that he felt this emotion in himself often contrary to\nreason and detrimental by hesitation and delay to opportunities and\nactions?\n\nSec. IX. In a certain sense yielding to the force of these arguments, they\ncall shame modesty, pleasure joy, and timidity caution; nor would anyone\nblame them for this euphemism, if they only gave those specious names to\nthe emotions that are consistent with reason, while they gave other\nkinds of names to those emotions that resist and do violence to reason.\nBut whenever, though convicted by their tears and tremblings and changes\nof colour, they avoid the terms pain and fear, and speak of bitings and\nstates of excitement, and gloss over the passions by calling them\ninclinations, they seem to contrive evasions and flights from facts by\nnames sophistical, and not philosophical. And yet again they seem to use\nwords rightly when they call those joys and wishes and cautions not\napathies but good conditions of the mind. For it is a happy disposition\nof the soul when reason does not annihilate passion, but orders and\narranges it in the case of temperate persons. But what is the condition\nof worthless and incontinent persons, who, when they judge they ought to\nlove their father and mother better than some boy or girl they are\nenamoured of, yet cannot, and yet at once love their mistress or\nflatterer, when they judge they ought to hate them? For if passion and\njudgement were the same thing, love and hate would immediately follow\nthe judging it right to love and hate, whereas the contrary happens,\npassion following some judgements, but declining to follow others.\nWherefore they acknowledge, the facts compelling them to do so, that\nevery judgement is not passion, but only that judgement that is\nprovocative of violent and excessive impulse: admitting that judgement\nand passion in us are something different, as what moves is different\nfrom what is moved. Even Chrysippus himself, by his defining in many\nplaces endurance and continence to be habits that follow the lead of\nreason, proves that he is compelled by the facts to admit, that that\nelement in us which follows absolutely is something different from that\nwhich follows when persuaded, but resists when not persuaded.\n\nSec. X. Now as to those who make all sins and offences equal, it is not now\nthe occasion to discuss if in other respects they deviate from truth:\nbut as regards the passions[238] they seem to go clean contrary to\nreason and evidence. For according to them every passion is a sin, and\neveryone who grieves, or fears, or desires, commits sin. But in good\ntruth it is evident that there are great differences between passions,\naccording as one is more or less affected by them. For who would say\nthat the craven fear of Dolon[239] was not something very different from\nthe fear of Ajax, \"who retreated with his face to the enemy and at a\nfoot's pace, drawing back slowly knee after knee\"?[240] Or who would say\nthat the grief of Plato at the death of Socrates was identical with the\ngrief of Alexander at the death of Clitus, when he attempted to lay\nviolent hands on himself? For grief is beyond measure intensified by\nfalling out against expectation: and the calamity that comes unlooked\nfor is more painful than that we may reasonably fear: as if when\nexpecting to see one's friend basking in prosperity and admiration, one\nshould hear that he had been put to the torture, as Parmenio heard about\nPhilotas. And who would say that the anger of Magas against Philemon was\nequal to that of Nicocreon against Anaxarchus? Both Magas and Nicocreon\nhad been insulted, but whereas Nicocreon brayed Anaxarchus to death with\niron pestles and made mincemeat of him, Magas contented himself with\nbidding the executioner lay his naked sword on Philemon's neck, and then\nlet him go.[241] And so Plato called anger the nerves of the mind,\nsince it can be both intensified by bitterness, and slackened by\nmildness. To evade these and similar arguments, they deny that intensity\nand excess of passion are according to judgement, wherein is the\npropensity to fault, but maintain that they are bites and contractions\nand diffusings capable of increase or diminution through the unreasoning\nelement. And yet it is evident that there are differences as regards\njudgements; for some judge poverty to be no evil, while others judge it\nto be a great evil, and others again the very greatest evil, insomuch\nthat they even throw themselves headlong down rocks and into the sea on\naccount of it. Again as to death, some think it an evil only in\ndepriving us of good things, whereas others think it so in regard to\neternal punishments and awful torments in the world below. Health again\nis valued by some as natural and advantageous, while to others it seems\nthe greatest blessing of life, in comparison with which they reckon\nlittle either of wealth or children or \"royal power that makes one equal\nto the gods,\" and at last come to think even virtue useless and\nunprofitable, if health be absent. Thus it is clear that even with\nregard to judgements themselves some err more, some less. But I shall\nbring no further proof of this now, but this one may assume therefrom,\nthat they themselves concede that the unreasoning element is something\ndifferent from judgement, in that they allow that by it passion becomes\ngreater and more violent, and while they quarrel about the name and word\nthey give up the thing itself to those who maintain that the emotional\nand unreasoning part of the soul is distinct from the reasoning and\njudging element. And in his treatise on Anomaly,[242] Chrysippus, after\ntelling us that anger is blind, and frequently does not let one see what\nis obvious, frequently also obscures what we do get a sight of, goes on\nto say, \"The encroachment of the passions blots out reason, and makes\nthings look different to what they should look, violently forcing people\non unreasonable acts.\" And he quotes as witness Menander, who says,\n\"Alas! poor me, wherever were my brains in my body at the time when I\nchose that line of conduct, and not this?\" And Chrysippus proceeds,\n\"Though every living creature endowed with reason is naturally inclined\nto use reason and to be governed by it on every occasion, yet often do\nwe reject it, being borne away by a more violent impulse;\" thus\nadmitting what results from the difference between passion and reason.\nFor otherwise it is ridiculous, as Plato says, to argue that a man is\nsometimes better than himself, sometimes worse, sometimes master of\nhimself, sometimes not master of himself.\n\nSec. XI. For how is it possible that the same person can be both better and\nworse than himself, both master of himself and not master, unless\neveryone is in some way twofold, having in himself both a better and\nworse self? For so he that makes the baser element subject to the better\nhas self-control and is a superior man, whereas he who allows the nobler\nelement of the soul to follow and be subservient to the incorrigible and\nunreasoning element, is inferior to what he might be, and is called\nincontinent, and is in an unnatural condition. For by nature it\nappertains to reason, which is divine, to rule and govern the\nunreasoning element, which has its origin from the body, which it also\nnaturally resembles and participates in its passions, being placed in it\nand mixed up with it, as is proved by the impulses to bodily delights,\nwhich are always fierce or languid according to the changes of the body.\nAnd so it is that young men are keen and vehement in their desires,\nbeing red hot and raging from their fulness of blood and animal heat,\nwhereas with old men the liver, which is the seat of desire, is dried up\nand weak and feeble, and reason has more power with them than passion\nwhich decays with the body. This principle also no doubt characterizes\nthe nature of animals as regards the sexual appetite. For it is not of\ncourse from any fitness or unfitness of opinions, that some animals are\nso bold and resolute in the presence of danger, while others are\nhelpless and full of fear and trembling; but this difference of emotion\nis produced by the workings of the blood and spirit and body, the\nemotional part growing out of the flesh, as from a root, and carrying\nalong with it its quality and temperament. And that the body of man\nsympathizes with and is affected by the emotional impulses is proved by\npallors, and blushings, and tremblings, and palpitations of the heart,\nas on the other hand by an all-pervading joy in the hope and expectation\nof pleasures. But whenever the mind is by itself and unmoved by passion,\nthe body is in repose and at rest, having no participation or share in\nthe working of the intellect, unless it involve the emotional, or the\nunreasoning element call it in. So that it is clear that there are two\ndistinct parts of the soul differing from one another in their\nfaculties.\n\nSec. XII. And generally speaking of all existing things, as they themselves\nadmit and is clear, some are governed by nature, some by habit, some by\nan unreasoning soul, some by a soul that has reason and intelligence.\nMan too participates in all this, and is subject to all those\ndifferences here mentioned, for he is affected by habit, and nourished\nby nature, and uses reason and intelligence. He has also a share of the\nunreasoning element, and has the principle of passion innate in him, not\nas a mere episode in his life but as a necessity, which ought not\ntherefore to be entirely rooted out, but requires care and attention.\nFor the function of reason is no Thracian or Lycurgean one to root up\nand destroy all the good elements in passion indiscriminately with the\nbad, but, as some genial and mild god, to prune what is wild, and to\ncorrect disproportion, and after that to train and cultivate the useful\npart. For as those who are afraid to get drunk do not pour on the ground\ntheir wine, _but mix it with water_, so those who are afraid of the\ndisturbing element in passion do not eradicate passion altogether but\ntemper it. Similarly with oxen and horses people try to restrain their\nmad bounds and restiveness, not their movements and powers of work, and\nso reason makes use of the passions when they have become tame and\ndocile, not by cutting out the sinews or altogether mutilating the\nserviceable part of the soul. For as Pindar says, \"The horse to the\nchariot, and the ox to the plough, while he that meditates destruction\nfor the boar must find a staunch hound.\"[243] But much more useful than\nthese are the whole tribe of passions when they wait on reason and run\nparallel to virtue. Thus moderate anger is useful to courage, and hatred\nof evil to uprightness, and righteous indignation against those who are\nfortunate beyond their deserts, when they are inflamed in their souls\nwith folly and insolence and need a check. And no one if they wished\ncould pluck away or sever[244] natural affection from friendship, or\npity from philanthropy, or sympathy both in joy and grief from genuine\ngoodwill. And if those err who wish to banish love because of erotic\nmadness, neither are they right who blame all desire because of love of\nmoney, but they act like people who refuse to run because they might\nstumble, or to throw because they might throw wide of the mark, or\nobject to sing altogether because they might make a false note. For as\nin sounds music does not create melody by the banishment of sharps and\nflats, and as in bodies the art of the physician procures health not by\nthe doing away of cold and heat but by their being blended in due\nproportions and quantities, so is victory won in the soul by the powers\nand motions of the passions being reduced by reason to moderation and\ndue proportion. For excessive grief or fear or joy in the soul (I speak\nnot of mere joy grief or fear), resembles a body swollen or inflamed.\nAnd Homer when he says excellently,\n\n  \"The brave man's colour never changes, nor\n   Is he much frightened,\"[245]\n\ndoes not take away all fear but only excessive fear, that bravery may\nnot become recklessness, nor confidence foolhardiness. So also in regard\nto pleasure we must do away with excessive desire, and in regard to\nvengeance with excessive hatred of evil. For so in the former case one\nwill not be apathetic but temperate, and in the latter one will not be\nsavage or cruel but just. But if the passions were entirely removed,\nsupposing that to be possible, reason would become in many duller and\nblunter, like the pilot in the absence of a storm. And no doubt it is\nfrom having noticed this that legislators try to excite in states\nambition and emulation among their townsmen, and stir up and increase\ntheir courage and pugnacity against enemies by the sound of trumpets\nand flutes. For it is not only in poems, as Plato says, that he that is\ninspired by the Muses, and as it were possessed by them, will laugh to\nshame the plodding artist, but also in fighting battles passion and\nenthusiasm will be irresistible and invincible, such as Homer makes the\ngods inspire men with, as in the line,\n\n  \"Thus speaking he infused great might in Hector,\n   The shepherd of the people.\"[246]\n\nand,\n\n  \"He is not mad like this without the god,\"[247]\n\nas if the god had added passion to reason as an incitement and spur. And\nyou may see those very persons, whose opinions I am combating,\nfrequently urging on the young by praises, and frequently checking them\nby rebukes, though pleasure follows the one, pain the other. For rebukes\nand censure produce repentance and shame, the one bringing grief, the\nother fear, and these they mostly make use of for purposes of\ncorrection. And so Diogenes, when Plato was being praised, said, \"What\nhas he to vaunt of, who has been a philosopher so long, and yet never\ngave pain to anyone?\" For one could not say, to use the words of\nXenocrates, that the mathematics are such handles to philosophy as are\nthe emotions of young men, such as shame, desire, repentance, pleasure,\npain, ambition, whereon reason and the law laying a suitable grip\nsucceed in putting the young man on the right road. So that it was no\nbad remark of the Lacedaemonian tutor, that he would make the boy\nentrusted to his charge pleased with what was good and displeased with\nwhat was bad,[248] for a higher or nobler aim cannot be proposed in the\neducation fit for a freeborn lad.\n\n    [219] See \"Meno,\" p. 72, A.\n\n    [220] Omitting [Greek: hetera], which Reiske justly\n    suspects.\n\n    [221] Reading [Greek: proton] with Wyttenbach.\n\n    [222] Homer, \"Odyssey,\" xix. 208-212.\n\n    [223] As in the story in \"Gil Blas\" of the person who,\n    after eating a ragout of rabbit, was told it was a\n    ragout of cat.--Book X. chapter xii.\n\n    [224] As to Amoebeus, see Athenaeus, p. 623. D.\n\n    [225] \"Iliad,\" xvi. 167.\n\n    [226] Generally speaking [Greek: ethos] is the habit,\n    [Greek: ethos] the moral character generated by habit.\n    The former is Aristotle's [Greek: energeia], the latter\n    his [Greek: hexis].\n\n    [227] I have adopted, it will be seen, the suggestion of\n    Wyttenbach, \"[Greek: to logismo] mutandum videtur in\n    [Greek: ton chalinon].\"\n\n    [228] Sophocles, \"Oedipus Tyrannus,\" 4, 5. Quoted by our\n    author again \"On Abundance of Friends,\" Sec. vi.\n\n    [229] Reading with \"Reiske,\" [Greek: exagetai pros to\n    epithymein ta aischra].\n\n    [230] In the \"Chrysippus\" of Euripides, Fragm.\n\n    [231] Compare Romans viii. 19.\n\n    [232] \"Odyssey,\" xii. 168, 169.\n\n    [233] This line is from Simonides, and is quoted again\n    in \"How one may be aware of one's Progress in Virtue,\" Sec.\n    xiv.\n\n    [234] \"Iliad,\" vii. 93.\n\n    [235] Reading with Reiske, [Greek: eis duo].\n\n    [236] Reading [Greek: etei] with Reiske and Wyttenbach.\n\n    [237] Euripides, \"Hippolytus\" 385, 386.\n\n    [238] Reading with Reiske [Greek: pathesi] for [Greek:\n    pleiosi].\n\n    [239] See \"Iliad,\" x. 374, sq.\n\n    [240] \"Iliad,\" xi. 547.\n\n    [241] \"De Anaxarchi supplicio nota res. v. Menage ad\n    Diog. Laeert. 9, 59. De Magae, reguli Cyrenarum, adversus\n    Philemonem lenitate v. De Cohibenda Ira, Sec.\n    ix.\"--_Reiske._\n\n    [242] \"Celebres fuere quondam Chrysippi sex libri\n    [Greek: peri tes kata tas lezeis anomalias], in quibus\n    auctore Varrone, _propositum habuit ostendere, similes\n    res dissimilibus verbis et similibus dissimiles esse\n    notatas vocabulis_. v. Menage ad Diog. Laeert. 7,\n    192.\"--_Reiske._\n\n    [243] Compare \"On Contentedness of Mind,\" Sec. xiii.\n\n    [244] Reading with _Reiske_, [Greek: aporrezeien].\n\n    [245] \"Iliad,\" xiii. 284, 285.\n\n    [246] \"Iliad,\" xv. 262.\n\n    [247] \"Iliad,\" v. 185.\n\n    [248] Compare \"That Virtue may be Taught,\" Sec. ii.\n\n\n\n\nHOW ONE MAY BE AWARE OF ONE'S\nPROGRESS IN VIRTUE.\n\n\nSec. I. What amount of argument, Sossius Senecio, will make a man know that\nhe is improving in respect to virtue, if his advances in it do not\nbring about some diminution in folly, but vice, weighing equally with\nall his good intentions, \"acts like the lead that makes the net go\ndown?\"[249] For neither in music nor grammatical knowledge could anyone\nrecognize any improvement, if he remained as unskilful in them as\nbefore, and had not lost some of his old ignorance. Nor in the case of\nanyone ill would medical treatment, if it brought no relief or ease, by\nthe disease somewhat yielding and abating, give any perception of\nimprovement of health, till the opposite condition was completely\nbrought about by the body recovering its full strength. But just as in\nthese cases there is no improvement unless, by the abatement of what\nweighs them down till they rise in the opposite scale, they recognize a\nchange, so in the case of those who profess philosophy no improvement or\nsign of improvement can be supposed, unless the soul lay aside and purge\nitself of some of its imperfection, and if it continue altogether bad\nuntil it become absolutely good and perfect. For indeed a wise man\ncannot in a moment of time change from absolute badness to perfect\ngoodness, and suddenly abandon for ever all that vice, of which he could\nnot during a long period of time divest himself of any portion. And yet\nyou know, of course, that those who maintain these views frequently give\nthemselves much trouble and bewilderment about the difficulty, that a\nwise man does not perceive that he has become wise, but is ignorant and\ndoubtful that in a long period of time by little and little, by removing\nsome things and adding others, there will be a secret and quiet\nimprovement, and as it were passage to virtue. But if the change were so\ngreat and sudden that the worst man in the morning could become the best\nman at night, or should the change so happen that he went to bed vicious\nand woke up in the morning wise, and, having dismissed from his mind all\nyesterday's follies and errors, should say,\n\n  \"False dreams, away, you had no meaning then!\"[250]\n\nwho on earth could be ignorant of so great a change happening to\nhimself, of virtue blazing forth so completely all at once? I myself am\nof opinion that anyone, like Caeneus,[251] who, according, to his\nprayer, got changed from a woman into a man, would sooner be ignorant of\nthe transformation, than that a man should become at once, from a\ncowardly and senseless person with no powers of self-control, brave and\nsensible and perfect master of himself, and should in a moment change\nfrom a brutish life to a divine without being aware of it.\n\nSec. II. That was an excellent observation, Measure the stone by the\nmason's rule, not the rule by the stone.[252] But the Stoics, not\napplying dogmas to facts but facts to their own preconceived opinions,\nand forcing things to agree that do not by nature, have filled\nphilosophy with many difficulties, the greatest of which is that all men\nbut the perfect man are equally vicious, which has produced the enigma\ncalled progress, one little short of extreme folly, since it makes those\nwho have not at once under its guidance given up all passions and\ndisorders equally unfortunate as those who have not got rid of a single\nvile propensity. However they are their own confuters, for while they\nlay down in the schools that Aristides was as unjust as Phalaris, and\nBrasidas as great a craven as Dolon, and Plato actually as senseless as\nMeletus, in life and its affairs they turn away from and avoid one class\nas implacable, while they make use of the others and trust them in most\nimportant matters as most worthy people.\n\nSec. III. But we who see that in every kind of evil, but especially in a\ndisordered and unsettled state of mind, there are degrees of more and\nless (so that the progress made differs in different cases, badness\nabating, as a shadow flees away, under the influence of reason, which\ncalmly illuminates and cleanses the soul), cannot consider it\nunreasonable to think that the change will be perceived, as people who\ncome up out of some ravine can take note of the progress they make\nupwards. Look at the case from the following point of view first. Just\nas mariners sailing with full sail over the gaping[253] ocean measure\nthe course they have made by the time they have taken and the force of\nthe wind, and compute their progress accordingly, so anyone can compute\nhis progress in philosophy by his continuous and unceasing course, by\nhis not making many halts on the road, and then again advancing by leaps\nand bounds, but by his quiet and even and steady march forward guided by\nreason. For the words of the poet, \"If to a little you keep adding a\nlittle, and do so frequently, _it will soon be a lot_,\"[254] are not\nonly true of the increase of money, but are universally applicable, and\nespecially to increase in virtue, since reason invokes to her aid the\nenormous force of habit. On the other hand the inconsistencies and\ndulnesses of some philosophers not only check advance, as it were, on\nthe road, but even break up the journey altogether, since vice always\nattacks at its leisure and forces back whatever yields to it.[255] The\nmathematicians tell us that planets, after completing their course,\nbecome stationary; but in philosophy there is no such intermission or\nstationary position from the cessation of progress, for its nature is\never to be moving and, as it were, to be weighed in the scales,\nsometimes being overweighted by the good preponderating, sometimes by\nthe bad. If, therefore, imitating the oracle given to the Amphictyones\nby the god, \"to fight against the people of Cirrha every day and every\nnight,\"[256] you are conscious that night and day you ever maintain a\nfierce fight against vice, not often relaxing your vigilance, or long\noff your guard, or receiving as heralds to treat of peace[257] the\npleasures, or idleness, or stress of business, you may reasonably go\nforward to the future courageously and confidently.\n\nSec. IV. Moreover, if there be any intermissions in philosophy, and yet\nyour later studies are firmer and more continuous than your former ones,\nit is no bad indication that your sloth has been expelled by labour and\nexercise; for the contrary is a bad sign, when after a short time your\nlapses from zeal become many and continuous, as if your zeal were dying\naway. For as in the growth of a reed, which shoots up from the ground\nfinely and beautifully to an even and continuous height, though at first\nfrom its great intervals it is hindered and baffled in its growth, and\nafterwards through its weakness is discouraged by any breath of air, and\nthough strengthened by many and frequent joints, yet a violent wind\ngives it commotion and trembling, so those who at first make great\nlaunches out into philosophy, and afterwards find that they are\ncontinually hindered and baffled, and cannot perceive that they make any\nprogress, finally get tired of it and cry off. \"But he who is as it were\nwinged,\"[258] is by his simplicity borne along to his end, and by his\nzeal and energy cuts through impediments to his progress, as merely\nobstacles on the road. As it is a sign of the growth of violent love,\nnot so much to rejoice in the presence of the loved one, for everyone\ndoes that, as to be distressed and grieved at his absence,[259] so many\nfeel a liking for philosophy and seem to take a wonderful interest in\nthe study, but if they are diverted by other matters and business their\npassion evaporates and they take it very easily. \"But whoever is\nstrongly smitten with love for his darling\"[260] will show his mildness\nand agreeableness in the presence of and joint pursuit of wisdom with\nthe loved one, but if he is drawn away from him and is not in his\ncompany you will see him in a stew and ill at ease and peevish whether\nat work or leisure, and unreasonably forgetful of his friends, and\nwholly impelled by his passion for philosophy. For we ought not to\nrejoice at discourses only when we hear them, as people like perfumes\nonly when they smell them, and not to seek or care about them in their\nabsence, but in the same condition as people who are hungry and thirsty\nare in if torn away from food and drink, we ought to follow after true\nproficiency in philosophy, whether marriage, or wealth, or friendship,\nor military service, strike in and produce a separation. For just as\nmore is to be got from philosophy, so much the more does what we fail\nto obtain trouble us.\n\nSec. V. Either precisely the same as this or very similar is Hesiod's[261]\nvery ancient definition of progress in virtue, namely, that the road is\nno longer very steep or arduous, but easy and smooth and level, its\nroughness being toned down by exercise, and casting the bright light of\nphilosophy on doubt and error and regrets, such as trouble those who\ngive themselves to philosophy at the outset, like people who leave a\nland they know, and do not yet descry the land they are sailing to. For\nby abandoning the common and familiar, before they know and apprehend\nwhat is better, they frequently flounder about in the middle and are\nfain to return. As they say the Roman Sextius, giving up for philosophy\nall his honours and offices in Rome, being afterwards discontented with\nphilosophy from the difficulties he met with in it at first, very nearly\nthrew himself out of window. Similarly they relate of Diogenes of\nSinope,[262] when he began to be a philosopher, that the Athenians were\ncelebrating a festival, and there were public banquets and shows and\nmutual festivities, and drinking and revelling all night, and he, coiled\nup in a corner of the market-place intending to sleep, fell into a train\nof thought likely seriously to turn him from his purpose and shake his\nresolution, for he reflected that he had adopted without any necessity a\ntoilsome and unusual kind of life, and by his own fault sat there\ndebarred of all the good things. At that moment, however, they say a\nmouse stole up and began to munch some of the crumbs of his barley-cake,\nand he plucked up his courage and said to himself, in a railing and\nchiding fashion, \"What say you, Diogenes? Do your leavings give this\nmouse a sumptuous meal, while you, the gentleman, wail and lament\nbecause you are not getting drunk yonder and reclining on soft and\nluxurious couches?\" Whenever such depressions of mind are not frequent,\nand the mind when they take place quickly recovers from them, after\nhaving put them to flight as it were, and when such annoyance and\ndistraction is easily got rid of, then one may consider one's progress\nin virtue as a certainty.\n\nSec. VI. And since not only the things that in themselves shake and turn\nthem in the opposite direction are more powerful in the case of weak\nphilosophers, but also the serious advice of friends, and the playful\nand jeering objections of adversaries bend and soften people, and have\nere now shaken some out of philosophy altogether, it will be no slight\nindication of one's progress in virtue if one takes all this very\ncalmly, and is neither disturbed nor aggravated by people who tell us\nand mention to us that some of our former comrades are flourishing in\nkings' courts, or have married wives with dowries, or are attended by a\ncrowd of friends when they come down to the forum to solicit some office\nor advocateship. He that is not moved or affected by all this is already\nplainly one upon whom philosophy has got a right hold; for it is\nimpossible that we should cease to be envious of what most people\nadmire, unless the admiration of virtue was strongly implanted in us.\nFor over-confidence may be generated in some by anger and folly, but to\ndespise what men admire is not possible without a true and steady\nelevation of mind. And so people in such a condition of mind, comparing\nit with that of others, pride themselves on it, and say with Solon, \"We\nwould not change virtue for wealth, for while virtue abides, wealth\nchanges hands, and now one man, now another, has it.\"[263] And Diogenes\ncompared his shifting about from Corinth to Athens, and again from\nThebes to Corinth, to the different residences of the King of Persia, as\nhis spring residence at Susa, his winter residence at Babylon, and his\nsummer residence in Media. And Agesilaus said of the great king, \"How is\nhe better than me, if he is not more upright?\" And Aristotle, writing to\nAntipater about Alexander, said, \"that he ought not to think highly of\nhimself because he had many subjects, for anyone who had right notions\nabout the gods was entitled to think quite as highly of himself.\" And\nZeno, observing that Theophrastus was admired for the number of his\npupils,[264] said, \"His choir is, I admit, larger than mine, but mine\nis more harmonious.\"\n\nSec. VII. Whenever then, by thus comparing the advantages of virtue with\nexternal things, you get rid of envies and jealousies and those things\nwhich fret and depress the minds of many who are novices in philosophy,\nthis also is a great indication of your progress in virtue. Another and\nno slight indication is a change in the style of your discourses. For\ngenerally speaking all novices in philosophy adopt most such as tend to\ntheir own glorification; some, like birds, in their levity and ambition\nsoaring to the height and brightness of physical things; others like\nyoung puppies, as Plato[265] says, rejoicing in tearing and biting,\nbetake themselves to strifes and questions and sophisms; but most\nplunging themselves into dialectics immediately store themselves for\nsophistry; and some collect sentences[266] and histories and go about\n(as Anacharsis said he saw the Greeks used money for no other purpose\nbut to count it up), merely piling up and comparing them, but making no\npractical use of them. Applicable here is that saying of Antiphanes,\nwhich someone applied to Plato's pupils. Antiphanes said playfully that\nin a certain city words were frozen directly they were spoken, owing to\nthe great cold, and were thawed again in the summer, so that one could\nthen hear what had been said in the winter. So he said of the words\nwhich were spoken by Plato to young men, that most of them only\nunderstood them late in life when they were become old men. And this is\nthe condition people are in in respect to all philosophy, until the\njudgement gets into a sound and healthy state, and begins to adapt\nitself to those things which can produce character and greatness of\nmind, and to seek discourses whose footsteps turn inwards rather than\noutwards, to borrow the language of AEsop.[267] For as Sophocles said he\nhad first toned down the pompous style of AEschylus, then his harsh and\nover-artificial method, and had in the third place changed his manner\nof diction, a most important point and one that is most intimately\nconnected with the character, so those who go in for philosophy, when\nthey have passed from flattering and artificial discourses to such as\ndeal with character and emotion, are beginning to make genuine and\nmodest progress in virtue.\n\nSec. VIII. Furthermore, take care, in reading the writings of philosophers\nor hearing their speeches, that you do not attend to words more than\nthings, nor get attracted more by what is difficult and curious than by\nwhat is serviceable and solid and useful. And also, in studying poems or\nhistory, let nothing escape you of what is said to the point, which is\nlikely either to correct the character or to calm the passions. For as\nSimonides says the bee hovers among the flowers \"making the yellow\nhoney,\"[268] while others value and pluck flowers only for their beauty\nand fragrance, so of all that read poems for pleasure and amusement he\nalone that finds and gathers what is valuable seems capable of knowledge\nfrom his acquaintance with and friendship for what is noble and\ngood.[269] For those who study Plato and Xenophon only for their style,\nand cull out only what is pure and Attic, and as it were the dew and the\nbloom, do they not resemble people who love drugs for their smell and\ncolour, but care not for them as anodynes or purges, and are not aware\nof those properties? Whereas those who have more proficiency can derive\nbenefit not from discourses only, but from sights and actions, and cull\nwhat is good and useful, as is recorded of AEschylus and other similar\nkind of men. As to AEschylus, when he was watching a contest in boxing at\nthe Isthmus, and the whole theatre cried out upon one of the boxers\nbeing beaten, he nudged with his elbow Ion of Chios, and said, \"Do you\nobserve the power of training? The beaten man holds his peace, while the\nspectators cry out.\" And Brasidas having caught hold of a mouse among\nsome figs, being bitten by it let it go, and said to himself, \"Hercules,\nthere is no creature so small or weak that it will not fight for its\nlife!\" And Diogenes, seeing a lad drinking water out of the palm of his\nhand, threw away the cup which he kept in his wallet. So much does\nattention and assiduous practice make people perceptive and receptive of\nwhat contributes to virtue from any source. And this is the case still\nmore with those who mix discourses with actions, who not only, to use\nthe language of Thucydides,[270] \"exercise themselves in the presence of\ndanger,\" but also in regard to pleasures and strifes, and judgements,\nand advocateships, and magistrateships make a display of their opinions,\nor rather form their opinions by their practice. For we can no more\nthink those philosophers who are ever learning and busy and\ninvestigating what they have got from philosophy, and then straightway\npublish it in the market-place or in the haunt of young men, or at a\nroyal supper-party, any more than we give the name of physicians to\nthose who sell drugs and mixtures. Nay rather such a sophist differs\nvery little at all from the bird described in Homer,[271] offering his\nscholars like it whatever he has got, and as it feeds its callow young\nfrom its own mouth, \"though it goes ill with itself,\" so he gets no\nadvantage or food from what he has got for himself.\n\nSec. IX. We must therefore see to it that our discourse be serviceable to\nourselves, and that it may not appear to others to be vain-glorious or\nambitious, and we must show that we are as willing to listen as to\nteach, and especially must we lay aside all disputatiousness and love of\nstrife in controversy, and cease bandying fierce words with one another\nas if we were contending with one another at boxing, and leave off\nrejoicing more in smiting and knocking down one another than in learning\nand teaching. For in such cases moderation and mildness, and to commence\narguing without quarrelsomeness and to finish without getting into a\nrage, and neither to be insolent if you come off best in the argument,\nnor dejected if you come off worst, is a sufficient sign of progress in\nvirtue. Aristippus was an excellent example of this, when overcome in\nargument by the sophistry of a man, who had plenty of assurance, but\nwas generally speaking mad or half-witted. Observing that he was in\ngreat joy and very puffed up at his victory, he said, \"I who have been\nvanquished in the argument shall have a better night's rest than my\nvictor.\" We can also test ourselves in regard to public speaking, if we\nare not timid and do not shrink from speaking when a large audience has\nunexpectedly been got together, nor dejected when we have only a small\none to harangue to, and if we do not, when we have to speak to the\npeople or before some magistrate, miss the opportunity through want of\nproper preparation; for these things are recorded both of Demosthenes\nand Alcibiades. As for Alcibiades, though he possessed a most excellent\nunderstanding, yet from want of confidence in speaking he often broke\ndown, and in trying to recall a word or thought that slipped his memory\nhad to stop short.[272] And Homer did not deny that his first line was\nunmetrical,[273] though he had sufficient confidence to follow it up by\nso many other lines, so great was his genius. Much more then ought those\nwho aim at virtue and what is noble to lose no opportunity of public\nspeaking, paying very little attention to either uproar or applause at\ntheir speeches.\n\nSec. X. And not only ought each to see to his discourses but also to his\nactions whether he regards utility more than show, and truth more than\ndisplay. For if a genuine love for youth or maiden seeks no witnesses,\nbut is content to enjoy its delights privately, far more does it become\nthe philosopher and lover of the beautiful, who is conversant with\nvirtue through his actions, to pride himself on his silence, and not to\nneed people to praise or listen to him. As that man who called his maid\nin the house, and cried out to her, \"See, Dionysia, I am angry no\nlonger,\"[274] so he that does anything agreeable and polite, and then\ngoes and spreads it about the town, plainly shows that he looks for\npublic applause and has a strong propensity to vain-glory, and as yet\nhas no acquaintance with virtue as a reality but only as a dream,\nrestlessly roving about amid phantoms and shadows, and making a display\nof whatever he does as painters display a picture. It is therefore a\nsign of progress in virtue not merely to have given to a friend or done\na good turn to an acquaintance without mentioning it to other people,\nbut also to have given an honest vote among many unjust ones, and to\nhave withstood the dishonourable request of some rich man or of some man\nin office, and to have been above taking bribes, and, by Zeus, to have\nbeen thirsty all night and not to have drunk, or, like Agesilaus,[275]\nto have resisted, though strongly tempted, the kiss of a handsome youth\nor maiden, and to have kept the fact to oneself and been silent about\nit. For one's being satisfied with one's own good opinion[276] and not\ndespising it, but rejoicing in it and acquiescing in it as competent to\nsee and decide on what is honourable, proves that reason is rooted and\ngrounded within one, and that, to borrow the language of Democritus, one\nis accustomed to draw one's delights from oneself. And just as farmers\nbehold with greater pleasure those ears of corn which bend and bow down\nto the ground, while they look upon those that from their lightness\nstand straight upright as empty pretenders, so also among those young\nmen who wish to be philosophers those that are most empty and without\nany solidity show the greatest amount of assurance in their appearance\nand walk, and a face full of haughtiness and contempt that looks down on\neverybody, but when they begin to grow full and get some fruit from\nstudy they lay aside their proud and vain[277] bearing. And just as in\nvessels that contain water the air is excluded, so with men that are\nfull of solid merit their pride abates, and their estimate of themselves\nbecomes a lower one, and they cease to plume themselves on a long beard\nand threadbare cloak,[278] and transfer their training to the mind, and\nare most severe and austere to themselves, while they are milder in\ntheir intercourse with everybody else; and they do not as before\neagerly snatch at the name and reputation of philosopher, nor do they\nwrite themselves down as such, but even if he were addressed by that\ntitle by anyone else, an ingenuous young man would say, smiling and\nblushing, \"I am not a god: why do you liken me to the immortals?\"[279]\nFor as AEschylus says,\n\n  \"I never can mistake the burning eye\n   Of the young woman that has once known man,\"[280]\n\nso to the young man who has tasted of true progress in philosophy the\nfollowing lines of Sappho are applicable, \"My tongue cleaves to the roof\nof my month, and a fire courses all over my lean body,\" and his eye will\nbe gentle and mild, and you would desire to hear him speak. For as those\nwho are initiated come together at first with confusion and noise and\njostle one another, but when the mysteries are being performed and\nexhibited, they give their attention with awe and silence, so also at\nthe commencement of philosophy you will see round its doors much\nconfusion and assurance and prating, some rudely and violently jostling\ntheir way to reputation, but he who once enters in, and sees the great\nlight, as when shrines are open to view, assumes another air and is\nsilent and awe-struck, and in humility and decorum follows reason as if\nshe were a god. And the playful remark of Menedemus seems to suit these\nvery well. He said that the majority of those who went to school at\nAthens became first wise, and then philosophers, after that orators, and\nas time went on became ordinary kind of people, the more they had to do\nwith learning, so much the more laying aside their pride and high\nestimate of themselves.\n\nSec. XI. Of people that need the help of the physician some, if their tooth\nache or even finger smart, run at once to the doctor, others if they are\nfeverish send for one and implore his assistance at their own home,\nothers who are melancholy or crazy or delirious will not sometimes even\nsee the doctor if he comes to their house, but drive him away, or avoid\nhim, ignorant through their grievous disease that they are diseased at\nall. Similarly of those who have done what is wrong some are\nincorrigible, being hostile and indignant and furious at those who\nreprove and admonish them, while others are meeker and bear and allow\nreproof. Now, when one has done what is wrong, to offer oneself for\nreproof, to expose the case and reveal one's wrongdoing, and not to\nrejoice if it lies hid, or be satisfied if it is not known, but to make\nconfession of it and ask for interference and admonishment, is no small\nindication of progress in virtue. And so Diogenes said that one who\nwished to do what was right ought to seek either a good friend or\nred-hot enemy, that either by rebuke or mild entreaty he might flee from\nvice. But as long as anyone, making a display of dirt or stains on his\nclothes, or a torn shoe, prides himself to outsiders on his freedom from\narrogance, and, by Zeus, thinks himself doing something very smart if he\njeers at himself as a dwarf or hunchback, but wraps up and conceals as\nif they were ulcers the inner vileness of his soul and the deformities\nof his life, as his envy, his malignity, his littleness, his love of\npleasure, and will not let anyone touch or look at them from fear of\ndisgrace, such a one has made little progress in virtue, yea rather\nnone. But he that joins issue with his vices, and shows that he himself\nis even more pained and grieved about them than anyone else, or, what is\nnext best, is able and willing to listen patiently to the reproof of\nanother and to correct his life accordingly, he seems truly to be\ndisgusted at his depravity and resolute to divest himself of it. We\nought certainly to be ashamed of and shun every appearance of vice, but\nhe who is more put about by his vice itself than by the bad reputation\nthat ensues upon it, will not mind either hearing it spoken against or\neven speaking against it himself if it make him a better man. That was a\nwitty remark of Diogenes to a young man, who when seen in a tavern\nretired into the kitchen: \"The more,\" said he, \"you retire, the more are\nyou in the tavern.\"[281] Even so the more a vicious man denies his vice,\nthe more does it insinuate itself and master him: as those people\nreally poor who pretend to be rich get still more poor from their false\ndisplay. But he who is really making progress in virtue imitates\nHippocrates, who confessed publicly and put into black and white that he\nhad made a mistake about the sutures of the skull,[282] for he will\nthink it monstrous, if that great man declared his mistake, that others\nmight not fall into the same error, and yet he himself for his own\ndeliverance from vice cannot bear to be shown he is in the wrong, and to\nconfess his stupidity and ignorance. Moreover the sayings of Bion and\nPyrrho will test not so much one's progress as a greater and more\nperfect habit of virtue. Bion maintained that his friends might think\nthey had made progress, when they could listen as patiently to abuse as\nto such language as the following, \"Stranger, you look not like a bad or\nfoolish person,\"[283] \"Health and joy go with you, may the gods give you\nhappiness!\"[284] While as to Pyrrho they say, when he was at sea and in\nperil from a storm, that he pointed out a little pig that was quietly\nenjoying some grain that had been scattered about, and said to his\ncompanions that the man who did not wish to be disturbed by the changes\nand chances of life should attain a similar composedness of mind through\nreason and philosophy.\n\nSec. XII. Look also at the opinion of Zeno, who thought that everybody\nmight gauge his progress in virtue by his dreams, if he saw himself in\nhis dreams pleasing himself with nothing disgraceful, and neither doing\nnor wishing to do anything dreadful or unjust, but that, as in the clear\ndepths of a calm and tranquil sea, his fancy and passions were plainly\nshown to be under the control of reason. And this had not escaped the\nnotice of Plato,[285] it seems, who had earlier expressed in form and\noutline the part that fancy and unreason played in sleep in the soul\nthat was by nature tyrannical, \"for it attempts incest,\" he says, \"with\nits mother, and procures for itself unlawful meats, and gives itself up\nto the most abandoned desires, such as in daytime the law through shame\nand fear debars people from.\" As then beasts of burden that have been\nwell-trained do not, even if their driver let go the reins, attempt to\nturn aside and leave the proper road, but go forward orderly as usual,\npursuing their way without stumbling, so those whose unreason has become\nobedient and mild and tempered by reason, will not easily wish, either\nin dreams or in illnesses, to deal insolently or lawlessly through their\ndesires, but will keep to their usual habits, which acquire their power\nand force by attention. For if the body can by training make itself and\nits members so subject to control, that the eyes in sorrow can refrain\nfrom tears, and the heart from palpitating in fear, and the passions can\nbe calm in the presence of beautiful youths and maidens, is it not far\nmore likely that the training of the passions and emotions of the soul\nwill allay, tame down, and mould their propensities even in dreams? A\nstory is told about the philosopher Stilpo,[286] that he thought he saw\nin a dream Poseidon angry with him because he had not sacrificed an ox\nto him, as was usual among the Megarians:[287] and that he, not a bit\nfrightened, said, \"What are you talking about, Poseidon? Do you come\nhere as a peevish boy, because I have not with borrowed money filled the\ntown with the smell of sacrifice, and have only sacrificed to you out of\nwhat I had at home on a modest scale?\" Then he thought that Poseidon\nsmiled at him, and held out his right hand, and said that for his sake\nhe would give the Megarians a large shoal of anchovies. Those, then,\nthat have such pleasant, clear, and painless dreams, and no frightful,\nor harsh, or malignant, or untoward apparition, may be said to have\nreflections of their progress in virtue; whereas agitation and panics\nand ignoble flights, and boyish delights, and lamentations in the case\nof sad and strange dreams, are like the waves that break on the coast,\nthe soul not having yet got its proper composure, but being still in\ncourse of being moulded by opinions and laws, from which it escapes in\ndreams as far as possible, so that it is once again set free and open\nto the passions. Do you investigate all these points too, as to whether\nthey are signs of progress in virtue, or of some habit which has already\na settled constancy and strength through reason.\n\nSec. XIII. Now since entire freedom from the passions is a great and divine\nthing, and progress in virtue seems, as we say, to consist in a certain\nremissness and mildness of the passions, we must observe the passions\nboth in themselves and in reference to one another to gauge the\ndifference: in themselves as to whether desire, and fear, and rage are\nless strong in us now than formerly, through our quickly extinguishing\ntheir violence and heat by reason; and in reference to one another as to\nwhether we are animated now by modesty more than by fear, and by\nemulation more than by envy, and by love of glory rather than by love of\nriches, and generally speaking whether--to use the language of\nmusicians--it is in the Dorian more than in the Lydian measures that we\nerr either by excess or deficiency,[288] whether we are plainer in our\nmanner of living or more luxurious, whether we are slower in action or\nquicker, whether we admire men and their discourses more than we should\nor despise them. For as it is a good sign in diseases if they turn aside\nfrom vital parts of the body, so in the case of people who are making\nprogress in virtue, when vice seems to shift to milder passions, it is a\nsign it will soon die out. When Phrynis added to the seven chords two\nchords more, the Ephors asked him which he preferred to let them cut\noff, the upper or lower ones;[289] so we must cut off both above and\nbelow, if we mean to attain, to the mean and to due proportion: for\nprogress in virtue first diminishes the excess and sharpness of the\npassions,\n\n  \"That sharpness for which madmen are so vehement,\"\n\nas Sophocles says.\n\nSec. XIV. I have already said that it is a very great indication of\nprogress in virtue to transfer our judgement to action, and not to let\nour words remain merely words, but to make deeds of them. A\nmanifestation of this is in the first place emulation as regards what we\npraise, and a zeal to do what we admire, and an unwillingness either to\ndo or allow what we censure. To illustrate my meaning by an example, it\nis probable that all Athenians praised the daring and bravery of\nMiltiades; but Themistocles alone said that the trophy of Miltiades\nwould not let him sleep, but woke him up of a night, and not only\npraised and admired him, but manifestly emulated and imitated his\nglorious actions. Small, therefore, can we think the progress we have\nmade, as long as our admiration for those who have done noble things is\nbarren, and does not of itself incite us to imitate them. For as there\nis no strong love without jealousy, so there is no ardent and energetic\npraise of virtue, which does not prick and goad one on, and make one not\nenvious but emulous of what is noble, and desirous to do something\nsimilar. For not only at the discourses of a philosopher ought we, as\nAlcibiades said,[290] to be moved in heart and shed tears, but the true\nproficient in virtue, comparing his own deeds and actions with those of\nthe good and perfect man, and grieved at the same time at the knowledge\nof his own deficiency, yet rejoicing in hope and desire, and full of\nimpulses that will not let him rest, is, as Simonides says,\n\n  \"Like sucking foal running by side of dam,\"[291]\n\nbeing desirous all but to coalesce with the good man. For it is a\nspecial sign of true progress in virtue to love and admire the\ndisposition of those whose deeds we emulate, and to resemble them with a\ngoodwill that ever assigns due honour and praise to them. But whoever\nis steeped in contentiousness and envy against his betters, let him know\nthat he may be pricked on by a jealous desire for glory or power, but\nthat he neither honours nor admires virtue.\n\nSec. XV. Whenever, then, we begin so much to love good men that we deem\nhappy, \"not only,\" as Plato[292] says, \"the temperate man himself, but\nalso the man who hears the words that flow from his wise lips,\" and\neven admire and are pleased with his figure and walk and look and smile,\nand desire to adapt ourselves to his model and to stick closely to him,\nthen may we think that we are making genuine progress. Still more will\nthis be the case, if we admire the good not only in prosperity, but like\nlovers who admire even the lispings and paleness of those in their\nflower,[293] as the tears and dejection of Panthea in her grief and\naffliction won the affections of Araspes,[294] so we fear neither the\nexile of Aristides, nor the prison of Anaxagoras, nor the poverty of\nSocrates, nor the condemnation of Phocion, but think virtue worthy our\nlove even under such trials, and join her, ever chanting that line of\nEuripides,\n\n  \"Unto the noble everything is good.\"[295]\n\nFor the enthusiasm that can go so far as not to be discouraged at the\nsure prospect of trouble, but admires and emulates what is good even so,\ncould never be turned away from what is noble by anybody. Such men ever,\nwhether they have some business to transact, or have taken upon them\nsome office, or are in some critical conjuncture, put before their eyes\nthe example of noble men, and consider what Plato would have done on the\noccasion, what Epaminondas would have said, how Lycurgus or Agesilaus\nwould have dealt; that so, adjusting and re-modelling themselves, as it\nwere, at their mirrors, they may correct any ignoble expression, and\nrepress any ignoble passion. For as those that have learnt the names of\nthe Idaean Dactyli[296] make use of them to banish their fear by quietly\nrepeating them over, so the bearing in mind and remembering good men,\nwhich soon suggests itself forcibly to those who have made some progress\nin virtue in all their emotions and difficulties, keeps them upright and\nnot liable to fall. Let this also then be a sign to you of progress in\nvirtue.\n\nSec. XVI. In addition to this, not to be too much disturbed, nor to blush,\nnor to try and conceal oneself, or make any change in one's dress, on\nthe sudden appearance of a man of distinction and virtue, but to feel\nconfident and go and meet such a one, is the confirmation of a good\nconscience. It is reported that Alexander, seeing a messenger running up\nto him full of joy and holding out his right hand, said, \"My good\nfriend, what are you going to tell me? Has Homer come to life again?\"\nFor he thought that his own exploits required nothing but posthumous\nfame.[297] And a young man improving in character instinctively loves\nnothing better than to take pride and pleasure in the company of good\nand noble men, and to display his house, his table, his wife, his\namusements, his serious pursuits, his spoken or written discourses;\ninsomuch that he is grieved when he remembers that his father or\nguardian died without seeing him in that condition in life, and would\npray for nothing from the gods so much, as that they could come to life\nagain, and be spectators of his life and actions; as, on the contrary,\nthose that have neglected their affairs, and come to ruin, cannot look\nupon their relatives even in dreams without fear and trembling.\n\nSec. XVII. Add, if you please, to what I have already said, as no small\nindication of progress in virtue, the thinking no wrong-doing small, but\nbeing on your guard and heed against all. For as people who despair of\never being rich make no account of small expenses, thinking they will\nnever make much by adding little to little,[298] but when hope is nearer\nfruition, then with wealth increases the love of it,[299] so in things\nthat have respect to virtue, not he that generally assents to such\nsayings as \"Why trouble about hereafter?\" \"If things are bad now, they\nwill some day be better,\"[300] but the man who pays heed to everything,\nand is vexed and concerned if vice gets pardon, when it lapses into even\nthe most trifling wrongdoing, plainly shows that he has already\nattained to some degree of purity, and deigns not to contract defilement\nfrom anything whatever. For the idea that we have nothing of any\nimportance to bring disgrace upon, makes people inclined to what is\nlittle and careless.[301] To those who are building a stone wall or\ncoping it matters not if they lay on any chance wood or common stone, or\nsome tombstone that has fallen down, as bad workmen do, heaping and\npiling up pell-mell every kind of material; but those who have made some\nprogress in virtue, whose life \"has been wrought on a golden base,\"[302]\nlike the foundation of some holy or royal building, undertake nothing\ncarelessly, but lay and adjust everything by the line and level of\nreason, thinking the remark of Polycletus superlatively good, that that\nwork is most excellent, where the model stands the test of the\nnail.[303]\n\n    [249] See Erasmus, Adagia, \"Eadem pensari trutina.\"\n\n    [250] Euripides, \"Iphigenia in Tauris,\" 569.\n\n    [251] See Ovid, \"Metamorphoses,\" xii. 189, sq.\n\n    [252] See Erasmus, \"Adagia,\" p. 1103.\n\n    [253] Compare Shakspere, \"Tempest,\" A. i. Sc. i. 63,\n    \"And gape at widest to glut him.\"\n\n    [254] Hesiod, \"Works and Days,\" 361, 362. Quoted again\n    by our author, \"On Education,\" Sec. 13.\n\n    [255] \"In via ad virtutem qui non progreditur, is non\n    stat et manet, sed regreditur.\"--_Wyttenbach._\n\n    [256] Adopting the reading of Hercher. See Pausanias, x.\n    37, where the oracle is somewhat different.\n\n    [257] For the town which parleys surrenders.\n\n    [258] From Homer, \"Iliad,\" xix. 386.\n\n    [259] Compare Aristotle, _Rhetoric_, i. 11. [Greek: kai\n    arche de tou erotos gignetai aute pasin, otan me monon\n    parontos chairosin, alla kai apontos memnemenoi erosin.]\n\n    [260] The line is a Fragment of Sophocles.\n\n    [261] See Hesiod, \"Works and Days,\" 289-292.\n\n    [262] The well-known Cynic philosopher.\n\n    [263] Bergk. fr. 15. Compare Homer, \"Iliad,\" vi. 339.\n    [Greek: nike d' epameibetai andras].\n\n    [264] We are told by Diogenes Laeertius, v. 37, that\n    Theophrastus had 2000 hearers sometimes at once.\n\n    [265] \"Republic,\" vii. p. 539, B.\n\n    [266] Sentences borrowed from some author or other,\n    such, as we still possess from the hands of Hermogenes\n    and Aphthonius; compare the collection of bon-mots of\n    Greek courtesans in Athenaeus.\n\n    [267] A reference to AEsop's Fable, [Greek: Leon kai\n    Halopez]. Cf. Horace, \"Epistles,\" i. i. 73-75.\n\n    [268] This passage is alluded to also in \"On Love to\n    one's Offspring.\" Sec. ii.\n\n    [269] Madvig's text.\n\n    [270] Thucydides, i. 18.\n\n    [271] Homer, \"Iliad,\" ix. 323, 324. Quoted also in \"On\n    Love to One's Offspring,\" Sec. ii.\n\n    [272] The remark about Demosthenes has somehow slipped\n    out, as Wyttenbach has suggested.\n\n    [273] Does this refer to [Greek: Peleiadeo] before\n    [Greek: Hachileos] in \"Iliad,\" i. 1?\n\n    [274] An allusion to some passage in a Play that has not\n    come down to us.\n\n    [275] Compare our Author, _De Audiendis Poetis_, Sec. xi.\n    [Greek: hosper ho Agesilaos ouk hypemeinen hypo tou\n    kalou philethenai prosiontos].\n\n    [276] Reading with Madvig and Hercher, [Greek: to gar\n    auton], sq.\n\n    [277] Literally _cork-like_, so vain, empty. So Horace,\n    \"levior cortice,\" \"Odes,\" iii. 9, 22.\n\n    [278] Marks of a philosopher among the ancients. Compare\n    our Author, \"How one may discern a flatterer from a\n    friend,\" Sec. vii.\n\n    [279] \"Odyssey,\" xvi. 187.\n\n    [280] AEschylus, \"Toxotides,\" Fragm. 224. Quoted again by\n    our author, \"On Love,\" Sec. xxi.\n\n    [281] \"Turpe habitum fuisse in caupona conspici, et hoc\n    exemplo apparet, et alia sunt indicia. Isocrates Orat.\n    Areopagitica laudans antiquorum Atheniensium mores, p.\n    257: [Greek: en kapeleio de phagein e piein oudeis han\n    oiketes epieikes etolmese]: quem locum citans Athenaeus\n    alia etiam adfert xiii. p. 566, F.\"--_Wyttenbach._\n\n    [282] Wyttenbach compares Quintilian, \"Institut. Orat.\"\n    iii. 6, p. 255: \"Nam et Hippocrates clarus arte medicinae\n    videtur honestissime fecisse, qui quosdam errores suos,\n    ne posteri errarent, confessus est.\"\n\n    [283] Homer, \"Odyssey,\" vi. 187.\n\n    [284] Homer, \"Odyssey,\" xxiv. 402.\n\n    [285] Plato, \"Republic,\" ix. p. 571, D.\n\n    [286] A somewhat similar story about Stilpo is told in\n    Athenaeus, x. p. 423, D.\n\n    [287] So Haupt and Herscher very ingeniously for [Greek:\n    hiereusin].\n\n    [288] Adopting the suggestion of Wyttenbach as to the\n    reading. The Dorian measure was grave and severe, the\n    Lydian soft and effeminate.\n\n    [289] See our author, \"Apophthegmata Laconica,\" p. 220\n    C.\n\n    [290] Plato, \"Symposium,\" p. 25, E.\n\n    [291] This line is quoted again by our author, \"On Moral\n    Virtue,\" Sec. vii.\n\n    [292] Plato, \"Laws,\" iv. p. 711, E.\n\n    [293] See those splendid lines of Lucretius, iv.\n    1155-1169.\n\n    [294] \"Res valde celebrata ex Institutione Cyri\n    Xenophontea, v. 1, 2; vi. 1, 17.\"--_Wyttenbach._\n\n    [295] This line is very like a Fragment in the \"Danae\"\n    of Euripides. Dind. (328).\n\n    [296] On these see Pausanias, v. 7.\n\n    [297] Such as Homer could have brought. Compare Horace,\n    \"Odes,\" iv. ix. 25-28; and Cicero, \"pro Archia,\" x.\n    \"Magnus ille Alexander--cum in Sigeo ad Achillis tumulum\n    adstitisset, O fortunate, inquit, adolescens, qui tuae\n    virtutis Homerum praeconem inveneris.\"\n\n    [298] Contrary to Hesiod's saw, \"Works and Days,\" 361,\n    362.\n\n    [299] So Juvenal, xiv. 138-140.\n\n    [300] Like Horace's \"Non si male nunc, et olim Sic\n    erit.\" \"Odes,\" ii. x. 16, 17.\n\n    [301] _Noblesse oblige_ in fact.\n\n    [302] Pindar, Frag. 206.\n\n    [303] Like Horace's _factus ad unguem_, because the\n    sculptor tries its polish and the niceness of the joints\n    by drawing his nail over the surface. Casaub. Pers. i.\n    64; Horace, \"Sat.\" i. v. 32, 33; A. P. 294; Erasmus,\n    \"Adagia,\" p. 507.\n\n\n\n\nWHETHER VICE IS SUFFICIENT TO CAUSE\nUNHAPPINESS.[304]\n\n\nSec. I. ... He who gets a dowry with his wife sells himself for it, as\nEuripides says,[305] but his gains are few and uncertain; but he who\ndoes not go all on fire through many a funeral pile, but through a regal\npyre, full of panting and fear and sweat got from travelling over the\nsea as a merchant, has the wealth of Tantalus, but cannot enjoy it owing\nto his want of leisure. For that Sicyonian horse-breeder was wise, who\ngave Agamemnon as a present a swift mare, \"that he should not follow him\nto wind-swept Ilium, but delight himself at home,\"[306] in the quiet\nenjoyment of his abundant riches and painless leisure. But nowadays\ncourtiers, and people who think they have a turn for affairs, thrust\nthemselves forward of their own accord uninvited into courts and\ntoilsome escorts and bivouacs, that they may get a horse, or brooch, or\nsome such piece of good luck. \"But his wife is left behind in Phylace,\nand tears her cheeks in her sorrow, and his house is only half complete\nwithout him,\"[307] while he is dragged about, and wanders about, and\nwastes his time in idle hopes, and has to put up with much insult. And\neven if he gets any of those things he desires, giddy and dizzy at\nFortune's rope-dance, he seeks retirement, and deems those happy who\nlive obscure and in security, while they again look up admiringly at him\nwho soars so high above their heads.[308]\n\nSec. II. Vice has universally an ill effect on everybody, being in itself a\nsufficient producer of infelicity, needing no instruments nor ministers.\nFor tyrants, anxious to make those whom they punish wretched, keep\nexecutioners and torturers, and contrive branding-irons and other\ninstruments of torture to inspire fear[309] in the brute soul, whereas\nvice attacks the soul without any such apparatus, and crushes and\ndejects it, and fills a man with sorrow, and lamentation, and\nmelancholy, and remorse. Here is a proof of what I say. Many are silent\nunder mutilation, and endure scourging or torture at the hand of despots\nor tyrants without uttering a word, whenever their soul, abating the\npain by reason, forcibly as it were checks and represses them: but you\ncan never quiet anger or smother grief, or persuade a timid person not\nto run away, or one suffering from remorse not to cry out, nor tear his\nhair, nor smite his thigh. Thus vice is stronger than fire and sword.\n\nSec. III. You know of course that cities, when they desire to publicly\ncontract for the building of temples or colossuses, listen to the\nestimates of the contractors who compete for the job, and bring their\nplans and charges, and finally select the contractor who will do the\nwork at least expense, and best, and quickest. Let us suppose then that\nwe publicly contract to make the life of man miserable, and take the\nestimates of Fortune and Vice for this object. Fortune shall come\nforward, provided with all sorts of instruments and costly apparatus to\nmake life miserable and wretched. She shall come with robberies and\nwars, and the blood-guiltiness of tyrants, and storms at sea, and\nlightning drawn down from the sky, she shall compound hemlock, she shall\nbring swords, she shall levy an army of informers, she shall cause\nfevers to break out, she shall rattle fetters and build prisons. It is\ntrue that most of these things are owing to Vice rather than Fortune,\nbut let us suppose them all to come from Fortune. And let Vice stand by\nnaked, without any external things against man, and let her ask Fortune\nhow she will make man unhappy and dejected. Fortune, dost thou threaten\npoverty? Metrocles laughs at thee, who sleeps during winter among the\nsheep, in summer in the vestibules of temples, and challenges the king\nof the Persians,[310] who winters at Babylon, and summers in Media, to\nvie with him in happiness. Dost thou bring slavery, and bondage, and\nsale? Diogenes despises thee, who cried out, as he was being sold by\nsome robbers, \"Who will buy a master?\" Dost thou mix a cup of poison?\nDidst not thou offer such a one to Socrates? And cheerfully, and mildly,\nwithout fear, without changing colour or countenance, he calmly drank it\nup: and when he was dead, all who survived deemed him happy, as sure to\nhave a divine lot in Hades. And as to thy fire, did not Decius, the\ngeneral of the Romans, anticipate it for himself, having piled up a\nfuneral pyre between the two armies, and sacrificed himself to Cronos,\ndedicating himself for the supremacy of his country? And the chaste and\nloving wives of the Indians strive and contend with one another for the\nfire, and she that wins the day and gets burnt with the body of her\nhusband, is pronounced happy by the rest, and her praises sung. And of\nthe wise men in that part of the world no one is esteemed or pronounced\nhappy, who does not in his lifetime, in good health and in full\npossession of all his faculties, separate soul from body by fire, and\nemerge pure from flesh, having purged away his mortal part. Or wilt thou\nreduce a man from a splendid property, and house, and table, and\nsumptuous living, to a threadbare coat and wallet, and begging of daily\nbread? Such was the beginning of happiness to Diogenes, of freedom and\nglory to Crates. Or wilt thou nail a man on a cross, or impale him on a\nstake? What cares Theodorus whether he rots above ground or below? Such\nwas the happy mode of burial amongst the Scythians,[311] and among the\nHyrcanians dogs, among the Bactrians birds, devour according to the laws\nthe dead bodies of those who have made a happy end.\n\nSec. IV. Who then are made unhappy by these things? Those who have no\nmanliness or reason, the enervated and untrained, who retain the\nopinions they had as children. Fortune therefore does not produce\nperfect infelicity, unless Vice co-operate. For as a thread saws through\na bone that has been soaked in ashes and vinegar, and as people bend and\nfashion ivory only when it has been made soft and supple by beer, and\ncannot under any other circumstances, so Fortune, lighting upon what is\nin itself faulty and soft through Vice, hollows it out and wounds it.\nAnd as the Parthian juice, though hurtful to no one else nor injurious\nto those who touch it or carry it about, yet if it be communicated to a\nwounded man straightway kills him through his previous susceptibility to\nreceive its essence, so he who will be upset in soul by Fortune must\nhave some secret internal ulcer or sore to make external things so\npiteous and lamentable.\n\nSec. V. Does then Vice need Fortune to bring about infelicity? By no means.\nShe lashes not up the rough and stormy sea, she girds not lonely\nmountain passes with robbers lying in wait by the way, she makes not\nclouds of hail to burst on the fruitful plains, she suborns not Meletus\nor Anytus or Callixenus as accusers, she takes not away wealth, excludes\nnot people from the praetorship to make them wretched; but she scares the\nrich, the well-to-do, and great heirs; by land and sea she insinuates\nherself and sticks to people, infusing lust, inflaming with anger,\nafflicting them with superstitious fears, tearing them in pieces with\nenvy.\n\n    [304] The beginning of this short Treatise is lost. Nor\n    is the first paragraph at all clear. We have to guess\n    somewhat at the meaning.\n\n    [305] In a fragment of the \"Phaethon.\" Compare also \"On\n    Education,\" Sec. 19.\n\n    [306] \"Iliad,\" xxiii. 297, 298.\n\n    [307] \"Iliad,\" ii. 700, 701.\n\n    [308] 'Tis ever so. Compare Horace, \"Sat.\" i. i. 1-14.\n\n    [309] Adopting Reiske's reading.\n\n    [310] Proverbial for extreme good fortune. Cf. Horace,\n    \"Odes,\" iii. ix. 4, \"Persarum vigui rege beatior.\"\n\n    [311] See Herodotus, iv. 72.\n\n\n\n\nWHETHER THE DISORDERS OF MIND OR\nBODY ARE WORSE.\n\n\nSec. I. Homer, looking at the mortality of all living creatures, and\ncomparing them with one another in their lives and habits, gave vent to\nhis thoughts in the words,\n\n  \"Of all the things that on the earth do breathe,\n   Or creep, man is by far the wretchedest;\"[312]\n\nassigning to man an unhappy pre-eminence in extreme misfortune. But let\nus, assuming that man is, as thus publicly declared, supreme in\ninfelicity and the most wretched of all living creatures, compare him\nwith himself, in the estimate of his misery dividing body and soul, not\nidly but in a very necessary way, that we may learn whether our life is\nmore wretched owing to Fortune or through our own fault. For disease is\nengendered in the body by nature, but vice and depravity in the soul is\nfirst its own doing, then its settled condition. And it is no slight aid\nto tranquillity of mind if what is bad be capable of cure, and lighter\nand less violent.\n\nSec. II. The fox in AEsop[313] disputing with the leopard as to their\nrespective claims to variety, the latter showed its body and appearance\nall bright and spotted, while the tawny skin of the former was dirty and\nnot pleasant to look at. Then the fox said, \"Look inside me, sir judge,\nand you will see that I am more full of variety than my opponent,\"\nreferring to his trickiness and versatility in shifts. Let us similarly\nsay to ourselves, Many diseases and disorders, good sir, thy body\nnaturally produces of itself, many also it receives from without; but if\nthou lookest at thyself within thou wilt find, to borrow the language of\nDemocritus, a varied and susceptible storehouse and treasury of what is\nbad, not flowing in from without, but having as it were innate and\nnative springs, which vice, being exceedingly rich and abundant in\npassion, produces. And if diseases are detected in the body by the pulse\nand by pallors and flushes,[314] and are indicated by heats and sudden\npains, while the diseases of the mind, bad as they are, escape the\nnotice of most people, the latter are worse because they deprive the\nsufferer of the perception of them. For reason if it be sound perceives\nthe diseases of the body, but he that is diseased in his mind cannot\njudge of his sufferings, for he suffers in the very seat of judgement.\nWe ought to account therefore the first and greatest of the diseases of\nthe mind that ignorance,[315] whereby vice is incurable for most people,\ndwelling with them and living and dying with them. For the beginning of\ngetting rid of disease is the perception of it, which leads the sufferer\nto the necessary relief, but he who through not believing he is ill\nknows not what he requires refuses the remedy even when it is close at\nhand. For amongst the diseases of the body those are the worst which are\naccompanied by stupor, as lethargies, headaches, epilepsies, apoplexies,\nand those fevers which raise inflammation to the pitch of madness, and\ndisturb the brain as in the case of a musical instrument,\n\n  \"And move the mind's strings hitherto untouched.\"[316]\n\nSec. III. And so doctors wish a man not to be ill, or if he is ill to be\nignorant of it, as is the case with all diseases of the soul. For\nneither those who are out of their minds, nor the licentious, nor the\nunjust think themselves faulty--some even think themselves perfect. For\nno one ever yet called a fever health, or consumption a good condition\nof body, or gout swift-footedness, or paleness a good colour; but many\ncall anger manliness, and love friendship, and envy competition, and\ncowardice prudence. Then again those that are ill in body send for\ndoctors, for they are conscious of what they need to counteract their\nailments; but those who are ill in mind avoid philosophers, for they\nthink themselves excellent in the very matters in which they come short.\nAnd it is on this account that we maintain that ophthalmia is a lesser\nevil than madness, and gout than frenzy. For the person ill in body is\naware of it and calls loudly for the doctor, and when he comes allows\nhim to anoint his eye, to open a vein, or to plaster up his head; but\nyou hear mad Agave in her frenzy not knowing her dearest ones, but\ncrying out, \"We bring from the mountain to the halls a young stag\nrecently torn limb from limb, a fortunate capture.\"[317] Again he who is\nill in body straightway gives up and goes to bed and remains there\nquietly till he is well, and if he toss and tumble about a little when\nthe fit is on him, any of the people who are by saying to him,\n\n                                    \"Gently,\n  Stay in the bed, poor wretch, and take your ease,\"[318]\n\nrestrain him and check him. But those who suffer from a diseased brain\nare then most active and least at rest, for impulses bring about action,\nand the passions are vehement impulses. And so they do not let the mind\nrest, but when the man most requires quiet and silence and retirement,\nthen is he dragged into the open air, and becomes the victim of anger,\ncontentiousness, lust, and grief, and is compelled to do and say many\nlawless things unsuitable to the occasion.\n\nSec. IV. As therefore the storm which prevents one's putting into harbour\nis more dangerous than the storm which will not let one sail, so those\nstorms of the soul are more formidable which do not allow a man to take\nin sail, or to calm his reason when it is disturbed, but without a pilot\nand without ballast, in perplexity and uncertainty through contrary and\nconfusing courses, he rushes headlong and falls into woeful shipwreck,\nand shatters his life. So that from these points of view it is worse to\nbe diseased in mind than body, for the latter only suffer, but the\nformer do ill as well as suffer ill. But why need I speak of our various\npassions? The very times bring them to our mind. Do you see yon great\nand promiscuous crowd jostling against one another and surging round the\nrostrum and forum? They have not assembled here to sacrifice to their\ncountry's gods, nor to share in one another's rites; they are not\nbringing to Ascraean Zeus the firstfruits of Lydian produce,[319] nor are\nthey celebrating in honour of Dionysus the Bacchic orgies on festival\nnights with common revellings; but a mighty plague stirring up Asia in\nannual cycles drives them here for litigation and suits at law at stated\ntimes: and the mass of business, like the confluence of mighty rivers,\nhas inundated one forum, and festers and teems with ruiners and ruined.\nWhat fevers, what agues, do not these things cause? What obstructions,\nwhat irruptions of blood into the air-vessels, what distemperature of\nheat, what overflow of humours, do not result? If you examine every suit\nat law, as if it were a person, as to where it originated, where it came\nfrom, you will find that one was produced by obstinate temper, another\nby frantic love of strife, a third by some sordid desire.[320]\n\n    [312] Homer, \"Iliad,\" xvii. 446, 447.\n\n    [313] See the Fable [Greek: Alopex kai Pardalis]. No.\n    42, Ed. Halme.\n\n    [314] Reading with Wyttenbach, [Greek: ochriasesi kai\n    erythemasi].\n\n    [315] Forte [Greek: agnoian].\"--_Wyttenbach._ The\n    ordinary reading is [Greek: anoian]. \"E coelo descendit\n    [Greek: gnothi seauton],\" says Juvenal truly, xi. 27.\n\n    [316] Compare the image in Shakspere, \"Hamlet,\" A. iii.\n    Sc. I. 165, 166.\n\n      \"Now see that noble and most sovereign reason,\n       Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh.\"\n\n    [317] Euripides, \"Bacchae,\" 1170-1172. Agave's treatment\n    of her son Pentheus was a stock philosophical\n    comparison. See for example Horace, ii. \"Sat.\" iii. 303,\n    304, and context.\n\n    [318] Euripides, \"Orestes,\" 258.\n\n    [319] \"_Aurum_ puta. Pactolus enim aurum fert. Videtur\n    dictio e Pindaro desumta esse.\"--_Reiske._\n\n    [320] \"Libellus hic fine carere videtur. Quare autem\n    opusculum hoc Plutarcho indignum atque suppositum visum\n    Xylandro fuerit, non intelligo.\"--_Reiske._\n\n\n\n\nON ABUNDANCE OF FRIENDS.\n\n\nSec. I. Menon the Thessalian, who thought he was a perfect adept in\ndiscourse, and, to borrow the language of Empedocles, \"had attained the\nheights of wisdom,\" was asked by Socrates, what virtue was, and upon his\nanswering quickly and glibly, that virtue was a different thing in boy\nand old man, and in man and woman, and in magistrate and private person,\nand in master and servant, \"Capital,\" said Socrates, \"you were asked\nabout one virtue, but you have raised up a whole swarm of them,\"[321]\nconjecturing not amiss that the man named many because he knew not one.\nMight not someone jeer at us in the same way, as being afraid, when we\nhave not yet one firm friendship, that we shall without knowing it fall\nupon an abundance of friends? It is very much the same as if a man\nmaimed and blind should be afraid of becoming hundred-handed like\nBriareus or all eyes like Argus. And yet we wonderfully praise the young\nman in Menander, who said that he thought anyone wonderfully good, if he\nhad even the shadow of a friend.[322]\n\nSec. II. But among many other things what stands chiefly in the way of\ngetting a friend is the desire for many friends, like a licentious woman\nwho, through giving her favours indiscriminately, cannot retain her old\nlovers, who are neglected and drop off;[323] or rather like the\nfoster-child of Hypsipyle, \"sitting in the meadow and plucking flower\nafter flower, snatching at each prize with gladsome heart, insatiable in\nits childish delight,\"[324] so in the case of each of us, owing to our\nlove of novelty and fickleness, the recent flower ever attracts, and\nmakes us inconstant, frequently laying the foundations of many\nfriendships and intimacies that come to nothing, neglecting in love of\nwhat we eagerly pursue what we have already possession of. To begin\ntherefore with the domestic hearth,[325] as the saying is, with the\ntraditions of life that time has handed down to us about constant\nfriends, let us take the witness and counsel of antiquity, according to\nwhich friendships go in pairs, as in the cases of Theseus and Pirithous,\nAchilles and Patroclus, Orestes and Pylades, Phintias and Damon,\nEpaminondas and Pelopidas. For friendship is a creature that goes in\npairs, and is not gregarious, or crow-like,[326] and to think a friend\na second self, and to call him companion as it were second one,[327]\nshows that friendship is a dual relation. For we can get neither many\nslaves nor many friends at small expense. What then is the\npurchase-money of friendship? Benevolence and complaisance conjoined\nwith virtue, and yet nature has nothing more rare than these. And so to\nlove or be loved very much cannot find place with many persons; for as\nrivers that have many channels and cuttings have a weak and thin stream,\nso excessive love in the soul if divided out among many is weakened.\nThus love for their young is most strongly implanted in those that bear\nonly one, as Homer calls a beloved son \"the only one, the child of old\nage,\"[328] that is, when the parents neither have nor are likely to have\nanother child.\n\nSec. III. Not that we insist on only one friend, but among the rest there\nshould be one eminently so, like a child of old age, who according to\nthat well-known proverb has eaten a bushel of salt with one,[329] not as\nnowadays many so-called friends contract friendship from drinking\ntogether once, or playing at ball together, or playing together with\ndice, or passing the night together at some inn, or meeting at the\nwrestling-school or in the market. And in the houses of rich and leading\nmen people congratulate them on their many friends, when they see the\nlarge and bustling crowd of visitors and handshakers and retainers: and\nyet they see more flies in their kitchens, and as the flies only come\nfor the dainties, so they only dance attendance for what they can get.\nAnd since true friendship has three main requirements, virtue, as a\nthing good; and familiarity, as a thing pleasant; and use, as a thing\nserviceable; for we ought to choose a friend with judgement, and rejoice\nin his company, and make use of him in need; and all these things are\nprejudicial to abundance of friends, especially judgement, which is the\nmost important point; we must first consider, if it is impossible in a\nshort time to test dancers who are to form a chorus, or rowers who are\nto pull together, or slaves who are to act as stewards of estates, or\nas tutors of one's sons, far more difficult is it to meet with many\nfriends who will take off their coats to aid you in every fortune, each\nof whom \"offers his services to you in prosperity, and does not object\nto share your adversity.\" For neither does a ship encounter so many\nstorms at sea, nor do they fortify places with walls, or harbours with\ndefences and earthworks, in the expectation of so many and great\ndangers, as friendship tested well and soundly promises defence and\nrefuge from. But if friends slip in without being tested, like money\nproved to be bad,\n\n  \"Those who shall lose such friends may well be glad,\n   And those who have such pray that they may lose them.\"[330]\n\nYet is it difficult and by no means easy to avoid and bring to a close\nan unpleasant friendship: as in the case of food which is injurious and\nharmful, we cannot retain it on the stomach without damage and hurt, nor\ncan we expel it as it was taken into the mouth, but only in a putrid\nmixed up and changed form, so a bad friend is troublesome both to others\nand himself if retained, and if he be got rid of forcibly it is with\nhostility and hatred, and like the voiding of bile.\n\nSec. IV. We ought not, therefore, lightly to welcome or strike up an\nintimate friendship with any chance comers, or love those who attach\nthemselves to us, but attach ourselves to those who are worthy of our\nfriendship. For what is easily got is not always desirable: and we pass\nover and trample upon heather and brambles that stick to us[331] on our\nroad to the olive and vine: so also is it good not always to make a\nfriend of the person who is expert in twining himself around us, but\nafter testing them to attach ourselves to those who are worthy of our\naffection and likely to be serviceable to us.\n\nSec. V. As therefore Zeuxis, when some people accused him of painting\nslowly, replied, \"I admit that I do, but then I paint to last,\" so ought\nwe to test for a long time the friendship and intimacy that we take up\nand mean to keep. Is it not easy then to put to the test many friends,\nand to associate with many friends at the same time, or is this\nimpossible? For intimacy is the full enjoyment of friendship, and most\npleasant is companying with and spending the day with a friend. \"Never\nagain shall we alive, apart from dear friends, sit and take counsel\nalone together.\"[332] And Menelaus said about Odysseus, \"Nor did\nanything ever divide or separate us, who loved and delighted in one\nanother, till death's black cloud overshadowed us.\"[333] The contrary\neffect seems to be produced by abundance of friends. For the friendship\nof a pair of friends draws them together and puts them together and\nholds them together, and is heightened by intercourse and kindliness,\n\"as when the juice of the fig curdles and binds the white milk,\"[334] as\nEmpedocles says, such unity and complete union will such a friendship\nproduce. Whereas having many friends puts people apart and severs and\ndisunites them, by transferring and shifting the tie of friendship too\nfrequently, and does not admit of a mixture and welding of goodwill by\nthe diffusing and compacting of intimacy. And this causes at once an\ninequality and difficulty in respect of acts of kindness, for the uses\nof friendship become inoperative by being dispersed over too wide an\narea. \"One man is acted upon by his character, another by his\nreflection.\"[335] For neither do our natures and impulses always incline\nin the same directions, nor are our fortunes in life identical, for\nopportunities of action are, like the winds, favourable to some,\nunfavourable to others.\n\nSec. VI. Moreover, if all our friends want to do the same things at the\nsame time, it will be difficult to satisfy them all, whether they desire\nto deliberate, or to act in state affairs, or wish for office, or are\ngoing to entertain guests. If again at the same time they chance to be\nengaged in different occupations and interests and ask you all together,\none who is going on a voyage that you will sail with him, another who is\ngoing to law that you will be his advocate, another who is going to try\na case that you will try it with him, another who is selling or buying\nthat you will go into partnership with him, another who is going to\nmarry that you will join him in the sacrifice, another who is going to\nbury a relation that you will be one of the mourners,\n\n  \"The town is full of incense, and at once\n   Resounds with triumph-songs and bitter wailing,\"[336]\n\nthat is the fruit of many friends; to oblige all is impossible, to\noblige none is absurd, and to help one and offend many is grievous.\n\n  \"No lover ever yet fancied neglect.\"[337]\n\nAnd yet people bear patiently and without anger the carelessness and\nneglect of friends, if they get from them such excuses as \"I forgot,\" \"I\ndid it unwittingly.\" But he who says, \"I did not assist you in your\nlawsuit, for I was assisting another friend,\" or \"I did not visit you\nwhen you had your fever, for I was helping so-and-so who was\nentertaining his friends,\" excusing himself for his inattention to one\nby his attention to another, so far from making the offence less, even\nadds jealousy to his neglect. But most people in friendship regard only,\nit seems, what can be got out of it, overlooking what will be asked in\nreturn, and not remembering that he, who has had many of his own\nrequests granted, must oblige others in turn by granting their requests.\nAnd as Briareus with his hundred hands had to feed fifty stomachs, and\nwas therefore no better provided than we are, who with two hands have to\nsupply the necessities of only one belly, so in having many friends[338]\none has to do many services for them, one has to share in their anxiety,\nand to toil and moil with them. For we must not listen to Euripides when\nhe says, \"mortals ought to join in moderate friendships for one another,\nand not love with all their heart, that the spell may be soon broken,\nand the friendship may either be ended or become closer at will,\"[339]\nthat so it may be adjusted to our requirements, like the sail of a ship\nthat we can either slacken or haul tight. But let us transfer,\nEuripides, these lines of yours to enmities, and bid people make their\nanimosities moderate, and not hate with all their heart, that their\nhatred, and wrath, and querulousness, and suspicions, may be easily\nbroken. Recommend rather for our consideration that saying of\nPythagoras, \"Do not give many your right hand,\"[340] that is, do not\nmake many friends, do not go in for a common and vulgar friendship,\nwhich is sure to cause anyone much trouble; for its sharing in others'\nanxieties and griefs and labours and dangers is quite intolerable to\nfree and noble natures. And that was a true saying of the wise\nChilo[341] to one who told him he had no enemy, \"Neither,\" said he, \"do\nyou seem to me to have a friend.\" For enmities inevitably accompany and\nare involved in friendships.\n\nSec. VII. It is impossible I say not to share with a friend in his injuries\nand disgraces and enmities, for enemies at once suspect and hate the\nfriend of their enemies, and even friends are often envious and jealous\nand carp at him. As then the oracle given to Timesias about his colony\nforetold him, \"that his swarm of bees would soon be followed by a swarm\nof wasps,\" so those that seek a swarm of friends have sometimes lighted\nunawares on a wasp's-nest of enemies. And the remembrance of wrongs done\nby an enemy and the kindness of a friend do not weigh in the same\nbalance. See how Alexander treated the friends and intimates of Philotas\nand Parmenio, how Dionysius treated those of Dion, Nero those of\nPlautus, Tiberius those of Sejanus, torturing and putting them to death.\nFor as neither the gold nor rich robes of Creon's daughter[342] availed\nher or her sire, but the flame that burst out suddenly involved him in\nthe same fate as herself, as he ran up to embrace her and rescue her, so\nsome friends, though they have had no enjoyment out of their friends'\nprosperity, are involved in their misfortunes. And this is especially\nthe case with philosophers and kind people, as Theseus, when his friend\nPirithous was punished and imprisoned, \"was also bound in fetters not\nof brass.\"[343] And Thucydides tells us that during the plague at Athens\nthose that most displayed their virtue perished with their friends that\nwere ill, for they neglected their own lives in going to visit\nthem.[344]\n\nSec. VIII. We ought not therefore to be too lavish with our virtue, binding\nit together and implicating it in various people's fortunes, but we\nought to preserve our friendship for those who are worthy of it, and are\ncapable of reciprocating it. For this is indeed the greatest argument\nagainst many friends that friendship is originated by similarity. For\nseeing that even the brutes can hardly be forced to mix with those that\nare unlike themselves, but crouch down, and show their dislike, and run\naway, while they mix freely with those that are akin to them and have a\nsimilar nature, and gently and gladly make friends with one another\nthen, how is it possible that there should be friendship between people\ndiffering in characters and temperaments and ideas of life? For harmony\non the harp or lyre is attained by notes in unison and not in unison,\nsharp and flat somehow or other producing concord, but in the harmony of\nfriendship there must be no unlike, or uneven, or unequal element, but\nfrom all alike must come agreement in opinions and wishes and feeling,\nas if one soul were put into several bodies.\n\nSec. IX. What man then is so industrious, so changeable, and so versatile,\nas to be able to make himself like and adapt himself to many different\npersons, and not to laugh at the advice of Theognis, \"Imitate the\ningenuity of the polypus, that takes the colour of whatever stone it\nsticks to.\"[345] And yet the changes in the polypus do not go deep but\nare only on the surface, which, from its thickness or thinness takes the\nimpression of everything that approaches it, whereas friends endeavour\nto be like one another in character, and feeling, and language, and\npursuits, and disposition. It requires a not very fortunate or very good\nProteus,[346] able by jugglery to assume various forms, to be\nfrequently at the same time a student with the learned, and ready to\ntry a fall with wrestlers, or to go a hunting with people fond of the\nchase, or to get drunk with tipplers, or to go a canvassing with\npoliticians, having no fixed character of his own.[347] And as the\nnatural philosophers say of unformed and colourless matter when\nsubjected to external change, that it is now fire, now water, now air,\nnow solid earth, so the soul suitable for many friendships must be\nimpressionable, and versatile, and pliant, and changeable. But\nfriendship requires a steady constant and unchangeable character, a\nperson that is uniform in his intimacy. And so a constant friend is a\nthing rare and hard to find.\n\n    [321] Plato, \"Men.\" p. 71 E.\n\n    [322] Quoted more fully by our author, \"De Fraterno\n    Amore,\" Sec. iii.\n\n    [323] \"Eadem comparatione utitur Lucianus in Toxari T.\n    ii. p. 351: [Greek: hostis an polyphilos he homoios\n    hemin dokei tais koinais tautais kai moicheuomenais\n    gynaixi; kai oiometh' ouketh' homoios ischyran ten\n    philian autou einai pros pollas eunoias\n    diairetheisan].\"--_Wyttenbach._\n\n    [324] From the \"Hypsipyle\" of Euripides.\n\n    [325] A well-known proverb for beginning at the\n    beginning. Aristophanes, \"Vespae.\" 846; Plato,\n    \"Euthryphro,\" 3 A; Strabo, 9.\n\n    [326] An allusion to the well-known proverb, [Greek:\n    koloios poti koloion]. See Erasmus, \"Adagia,\" p. 1644.\n\n    [327] The paronomasia is on [Greek: hetairos, heteros].\n\n    [328] \"Iliad,\" ix. 482; \"Odyssey,\" xvi. 19.\n\n    [329] Cf. Cicero, \"De Amicitia,\" xix.\n\n    [330] Sophocles, Fragm. 741. Quoted again by our author,\n    \"On Love,\" Sec. xxiii.\n\n    [331] For the image compare Lucio's speech, Shakspere,\n    \"Measure for Measure,\" A. iv. Sc. iii. 189, 190: \"Nay,\n    friar, I am a kind of burr; I shall stick.\"\n\n    [332] \"Iliad,\" xxiii. 77, 78.\n\n    [333] \"Odyssey,\" iv. 178-180.\n\n    [334] \"Iliad,\" v. 902, altered somewhat.\n\n    [335] Bergk. p. 1344^3.\n\n    [336] Sophocles, \"Oedipus Tyrannus,\" 4, 5. Quoted again\n    \"On Moral Virtue,\" Sec. vi.\n\n    [337] A line from Menander. Quoted again \"De Fraterno\n    Amore,\" Sec. xx.\n\n    [338] Reading with Halm and Hercher [Greek: en toi\n    pollois philois chresthai.]\n\n    [339] Euripides, \"Hippolytus,\" 253-257, where Dindorf\n    and Hercher agree in the reading.\n\n    [340] Compare \"On Education,\" Sec. xvii.\n\n    [341] Chilo was one of the Seven Wise Men. See\n    Pausanias, iii. 16; X. 24.\n\n    [342] For the circumstances see Euripides, \"Medea,\" 1136\n    sq.\n\n    [343] For the friendship of Theseus and Pirithous, see\n    Pausanias, i. 17; x. 29. The line is from Euripides,\n    \"Pirithous,\" Fragm. 591. Cf. \"On Shyness,\" Sec. x.\n\n    [344] Thucydides, ii. 51.\n\n    [345] Bergk. p. 500^3.\n\n    [346] On Proteus, see Verg. \"Georg.\" iv. 387 sq.; Ovid,\n    \"Art.\" i. 761; \"Met.\" ii. 9; \"Fasti,\" i. 367 sq., and\n    especially Horace, \"Epistles,\" i. i. 90: \"Quo teneam\n    vultus mutantem Protea nodo?\"\n\n    [347] Literally, \"having no hearth of character,\" the\n    hearth being an emblem of stability. Compare \"How One\n    may Discern a Flatterer from a Friend,\" Sec. vii., where\n    the same image is employed.\n\n\n\n\nHOW ONE MAY DISCERN A FLATTERER FROM\nA FRIEND.\n\n\nSec. I. Plato says,[348] Antiochus Philopappus, that all men pardon the man\nwho acknowledges that he is excessively fond of himself, but that there\nis among many other defects this very grave one in self-love, that by it\na man becomes incapable of being a just and impartial judge about\nhimself, for love is blind in regard to the loved object, unless a\nperson has learnt and accustomed himself to honour and pursue what is\nnoble rather than his own selfish interests. This gives a great field\nfor the flatterer in friendship, who finds a wonderful base of\noperations in our self-love, which makes each person his own first and\ngreatest flatterer, and easily admits a flatterer from without, who will\nbe, so he thinks and hopes, both a witness and confirmer of his good\nopinion of himself. For he that lies open to the reproach of being fond\nof flatterers is very fond of himself, and owing to his goodwill to\nhimself wishes to possess all good qualities, and thinks he actually\ndoes; the wish is not ridiculous, but the thought is misleading and\nrequires a good deal of caution. And if truth is a divine thing, and,\naccording to Plato,[349] the beginning of all good things both to the\ngods and men, the flatterer is likely to be an enemy to the gods, and\nespecially to Apollo, for he always sets himself against that famous\nsaying, \"Know thyself,\"[350] implanting in everybody's mind self-deceit\nand ignorance of his own good or bad qualities, thus making his good\npoints defective and imperfect, and his bad points altogether\nincorrigible.\n\nSec. II. If however, as is the case with most other bad things, the\nflatterer attacked only or chiefly ignoble or worthless persons, the\nevil would not be so mischievous or so difficult to guard against. But\nsince, as wood-worms breed most in soft and sweet wood, those whose\ncharacters are honourable and good and equitable encourage and support\nthe flatterer most,--and moreover, as Simonides says, \"rearing of horses\ndoes not go with the oil-flask,[351] but with fruitful fields,\" so we\nsee that flattery does not join itself to the poor, the obscure, or\nthose without means, but is the snare and bane of great houses and\nestates, and often overturns kingdoms and principalities,--it is a\nmatter of no small importance, needing much foresight, to examine the\nquestion, that so flattery may be easily detected, and neither injure\nnor discredit friendship. For just as lice leave dying persons, and\nabandon bodies when the blood on which they feed is drying up, so one\nnever yet saw flatterers dancing attendance on dry and cold poverty, but\nthey fasten on wealth and position and there get fat, but speedily\ndecamp if reverses come. But we ought not to wait to experience that,\nwhich would be unprofitable, or rather injurious and dangerous. For not\nto find friends at a time when you want them is hard, as also not to be\nable to exchange an inconstant and bad friend for a constant and good\none. For a friend should be like money tried before being required, not\nfound faulty in our need. For we ought not to have our wits about us\nonly when the mischief is done, but we ought to try and prevent the\nflatterer doing any harm to us: for otherwise we shall be in the same\nplight as people who test deadly poisons by first tasting them, and kill\nor nearly kill themselves in the experiment. We do not praise such, nor\nagain all those who, looking at their friend simply from the point of\nview of decorum and utility, think that they can detect all agreeable\nand pleasant companions as flatterers in the very act. For a friend\nought not to be disagreeable or unpleasant, nor ought friendship to be a\nthing high and mighty with sourness and austerity, but even its decorous\ndeportment ought to be attractive and winning,[352] for by it\n\n  \"The Graces and Desire have pitched their tents,\"[353]\n\nand not only to a person in misfortune \"is it sweet to look into the\neyes of a friendly person,\" as Euripides[354] says, but no less does it\nbring pleasure and charm in good fortune, than when it relieves the\nsorrows and difficulties of adversity. And as Evenus said \"fire was the\nbest sauce,\"[355] so the deity, mixing up friendship with life, has made\neverything bright and sweet and acceptable by its presence and the\nenjoyment it brings. How else indeed could the flatterer insinuate\nhimself by the pleasure he gives, unless he knew that friendship\nadmitted the pleasurable element? It would be impossible to say. But\njust as spurious and mock gold only imitates the brightness and glitter\nof real gold, so the flatterer seems to imitate the pleasantness and\nagreeableness of the real friend, and to exhibit himself ever merry and\nbright, contradicting and opposing nothing. We must not however on that\naccount suspect all who praise as simple flatterers. For friendship\nrequires praise as much as censure on the proper occasion. Indeed\npeevishness and querulousness are altogether alien to friendship and\nsocial life: but when goodwill bestows praise ungrudgingly and readily\nupon good actions, people endure also easily and without pain admonition\nand plainspeaking, believing and continuing to love the person who took\nsuch pleasure in praising, as if now he only blamed out of necessity.\n\nSec. III. It is difficult then, someone may say, to distinguish between the\nflatterer and the friend, if they differ neither in the pleasure they\ngive nor in the praise they bestow; for as to services and attentions\nyou may often see friendship outstripped by flattery. Certainly it is\nso, I should reply, if we are trying to find the genuine flatterer who\nhandles his craft with cleverness and art, but not if, like most people,\nwe consider those persons flatterers who are called their own\noil-flask-carriers and table-men, men who begin to talk, as one said,\nthe moment their hands have been washed for dinner,[356] whose\nservility, ribaldry, and want of all decency, is apparent at the first\ndish and glass. It did not of course require very much discrimination to\ndetect Melanthius the parasite of Alexander of Pherae of flattery, who,\nto those who asked how Alexander was murdered, answered, \"Through his\nside into my belly\": or those who formed a circle round a wealthy table,\n\"whom neither fire, nor sword, nor steel, would keep from running to a\nfeast\":[357] or those female flatterers in Cyprus, who after they\ncrossed over into Syria were nicknamed \"step-ladders,\"[358] because they\nlay down and let the kings' wives use their bodies as steps to mount\ntheir carriages.\n\nSec. IV. What kind of flatterer then must we be on our guard against? The\none who neither seems to be nor acknowledges himself to be one: whom you\nwill not always find in the vicinity of your kitchen, who is not to be\ncaught watching the dial to see how near it is to dinner-time,[359] nor\ngets so drunk as to throw himself down anyhow, but one who is generally\nsober, and a busybody, and thinks he ought to have a hand in your\naffairs, and wishes to share in your secrets, and as to friendship plays\nrather a tragic than a satyric or comic part. For as Plato says, \"it is\nthe height of injustice to appear to be just when you are not really\nso,\"[360] so we must deem the most dangerous kind of flattery not the\nopen but the secret, not the playful but the serious. For it throws\nsuspicion even upon a genuine friendship, which we may often confound\nwith it, if we are not careful. When Gobryas pursued one of the Magi\ninto a dark room, and was on the ground wrestling with him, and Darius\ncame up and was doubtful how he could kill one without killing both,\nGobryas bade him thrust his sword boldly through both of them;[361] but\nwe, since we give no assent to that saying, \"Let friend perish so the\nenemy perish with him,\"[362] in our endeavour to distinguish the\nflatterer from the friend, seeing that their resemblances are so many,\nought to take great care that we do not reject the good with the bad,\nnor in sparing what is beneficial fall in with what is injurious. For as\nwild grains mixed up with wheat, if very similar in size and appearance,\nare not easily kept apart, for if the sieve have small holes they don't\npass through, and if large holes they pass with the corn, so flattery is\nnot easily distinguished from friendship, being mixed up with it in\nfeeling and emotion, habit and custom.\n\nSec. V. Because however friendship is the most pleasant of all things, and\nnothing more glads the heart of man, therefore the flatterer attracts by\nthe pleasure he gives, pleasure being in fact his field. And because\nfavours and good services accompany friendship, as the proverb says \"a\nfriend is more necessary than fire or water,\"[363] therefore the\nflatterer volunteers all sorts of services, and strives to show himself\non all occasions zealous and obliging and ready. And since friendship is\nmainly produced by a similarity of tastes and habits, and to have the\nsame likes and dislikes first brings people together and unites them\nthrough sympathy,[364] the flatterer observing this moulds himself like\nmaterial and demeans himself accordingly, seeking completely to imitate\nand resemble those whom he desires to ingratiate himself with, being\nsupple in change, and plausible in his imitations, so that one would\nsay,\n\n  \"Achilles' son, O no, it is himself.\"[365]\n\nBut his cleverest trick is that, observing that freedom of speech, is\nboth spoken of and reckoned as the peculiar and natural voice of\nfriendship, while not speaking freely is considered unfriendly and\ndisingenuous, he has not failed to imitate this trait of friendship\nalso. But just as clever cooks infuse bitter sauces and sharp seasoning\nto prevent sweet things from cloying, so these flatterers do not use a\ngenuine or serviceable freedom of speech, but merely a winking and\ntickling innuendo. He is therefore difficult to detect, like those\ncreatures which naturally change their colour and take that of the\nmaterial or place near them.[366] But since he deceives and conceals his\ntrue character by his imitations, it is our duty to unmask him and\ndetect him by the differences between him and the true friend, and to\nshow that he is, as Plato says, \"tricked out in other people's colours\nand forms, from lack of any of his own.\"[367]\n\nSec. VI. Let us examine the matter then from the beginning. I said that\nfriendship originated in most cases from a similar disposition and\nnature, generally inclined to the same habits and morals, and rejoicing\nin the same pursuits, studies, and amusements, as the following lines\ntestify: \"To old man the voice of old man is sweetest, to boy that of\nboy, to woman is most acceptable that of woman, to the sick person that\nof sick person, while he that is overtaken by misfortune is a comforter\nto one in trouble.\" The flatterer knowing then that it is innate in us\nto delight in, and enjoy the company of, and to love, those who are like\nourselves, attempts first to approach and get near a person in this\ndirection, (as one tries to catch an animal in the pastures,) by the\nsame pursuits and amusements and studies and modes of life quietly\nthrowing out his bait, and disguising himself in false colours, till his\nvictim give him an opportunity to catch him, and become tame and\ntractable at his touch. Then too he censures the things and modes of\nlife and persons that he knows his victim dislikes, while he praises\nthose he fancies immoderately, overdoing it indeed[368] with his show of\nsurprise and excessive admiration, making him more and more convinced\nthat his likes and dislikes are the fruits of judgement and not of\ncaprice.\n\nSec. VII. How then is the flatterer convicted, and by what differences is\nhe detected, of being only a counterfeit, and not really like his\nvictim? We must first then look at the even tenor and consistency of his\nprinciples, if he always delights in the same things, and always praises\nthe same things, and directs and governs his life after one pattern, as\nbecomes the noble lover of consistent friendship and familiarity. Such a\nperson is a friend. But the flatterer having no fixed character of his\nown,[369] and not seeking to lead the life suitable for him, but shaping\nand modelling himself after another's pattern, is neither simple nor\nuniform, but complex and unstable, assuming different appearances, like\nwater poured from vessel to vessel, ever in a state of flux and\naccommodating himself entirely to the fashion of those who entertain\nhim. The ape indeed, as it seems, attempting to imitate man, is caught\nimitating his movements and dancing like him, but the flatterer himself\nattracts and decoys other men, imitating not all alike, for with one he\nsings and dances, with another he wrestles and gets covered with the\ndust of the palaestra, while he follows a third fond of hunting and the\nchase all but shouting out the words of Phaedra,\n\n  \"How I desire to halloo on the dogs,\n   Chasing the dappled deer,\"[370]\n\nand yet he has really no interest in the chase, it is the hunter himself\nhe sets the toils and snares for. And if the object of his pursuit is\nsome young scholar and lover of learning, he is all for books then, his\nbeard flows down to his feet,[371] he's quite a sight with his\nthreadbare cloak, has all the indifference of the Stoic, and speaks of\nnothing but the rectangles and triangles of Plato. But if any rich and\ncareless fellow fond of drink come in his way,\n\n  \"Then wise Odysseus stript him of his rags,\"[372]\n\nhis threadbare cloak is thrown aside, his beard is shorn off like a\nfruitless crop, he goes in for wine-coolers and tankards, and laughs\nloudly in the streets, and jeers at philosophers. As they say happened\nat Syracuse, when Plato went there, and Dionysius was seized with a\nfurious passion for philosophy, and so great was the concourse of\ngeometricians that they raised up quite a cloud of dust in the palace,\nbut when Plato fell out of favour, and Dionysius gave up philosophy, and\nwent back again headlong to wine and women and trifles and debauchery,\nthen all the court was metamorphosed, as if they all had drunk of\nCirce's cup, for ignorance and oblivion and silliness reigned rampant. I\nam borne out in what I say by the behaviour of great flatterers and\ndemagogues,[373] the greatest of whom Alcibiades, a jeerer and\nhorse-rearer at Athens, and living a gay and merry life, wore his hair\nclosely shaven at Lacedaemon, and washed in cold water, and attired\nhimself in a threadbare cloak; while in Thrace he fought[374] and drank;\nand at Tissaphernes' court lived delicately and luxuriously and in a\npretentious style; and thus curried favour and was popular with\neverybody by imitating their habits and ways. Such was not the way\nhowever in which Epaminondas or Agesilaus acted, for though they\nassociated with very many men and states and different modes of life,\nthey maintained everywhere their usual demeanour, both in dress and diet\nand language and behaviour. So Plato[375] at Syracuse was exactly the\nsame man as in the Academy, the same with Dionysius as with Dion.\n\nSec. VIII. As to the changes of the flatterer, which resemble those of the\npolypus,[376] a man may most easily detect them by himself pretending to\nchange about frequently, and by censuring the kind of life he used\nformerly to praise, and anon approving of the words actions and modes of\nlife that he used to be displeased with. He will then see that the\nflatterer is never consistent or himself, never loving hating rejoicing\ngrieving at his own initiative, but like a mirror, merely reflecting the\nimage of other people's emotions and manners and feelings. Such a one\nwill say, if you censure one of your friends to him, \"You are slow in\nfinding the fellow out, he never pleased me from the first.\" But if on\nthe other hand you change your language and praise him, he will swear by\nZeus that he rejoices at it, and is himself under obligations to the\nman, and believes in him. And if you talk of the necessity of changing\nyour mode of life, of retiring from public life to a life of privacy and\nease, he says, \"We ought long ago to have got rid of uproar[377] and\nenvy.\" But if you think of returning again to public life, he chimes in,\n\"Your sentiments do you honour: retirement from business is pleasant,\nbut inglorious and mean.\" One ought to say at once to such a one,\n\"'Stranger, quite different now you look to what you did before.'[378] I\ndo not need a friend to change his opinions with me and to assent to me\nin everything, my shadow will do that better, but I need one that will\nspeak the truth and help me with his judgement.\" This is one way of\ndetecting the flatterer.\n\nSec. IX. We must also observe another difference in the resemblance between\nthe friend and flatterer. The true friend does not imitate you in\neverything, nor is he too keen to praise, but praises only what is\nexcellent, for as Sophocles says,\n\n  \"He is not born to share in hate but love,\"[379]\n\nyes, by Zeus, and he is born to share in doing what is right and in\nloving what is noble, and not to share in wrong-doing or misbehaviour,\nunless it be that, as a running of the eyes is catching, so through\ncompanionship and intimacy he may against his will contract by infection\nsome vice or ill habit, as they say Plato's intimates imitated his\nstoop, Aristotle's his lisp, and king Alexander's his holding his head a\nlittle on one side, and rapidity of utterance in conversation,[380] for\npeople mostly pick up unawares such traits of character. But the\nflatterer is exactly like the chameleon,[381] which takes every colour\nbut white, and so he, though unable to imitate what is worth his while,\nleaves nothing that is bad unimitated. And just as poor painters unable\nto make a fine portrait from inefficiency in their craft, bring out the\nlikeness by painting all the wrinkles, moles and scars, so the flatterer\nimitates his friend's intemperance, superstition, hot temper, sourness\nto domestics, suspicion of his friends and relations. For he is by\nnature inclined to what is worst, and thinks that imitation of what is\nbad is as far as possible removed from censure. For those are suspected\nwho have noble aims in life, and seem to be vexed and disgusted at their\nfriends' faults, for that injured and even ruined Dion with Dionysius,\nSamius with Philip, and Cleomenes with Ptolemy. But he that wishes to be\nand appear at the same time both agreeable and trustworthy pretends to\nrejoice more in what is bad, as being through excessive love for his\nfriend not even offended at his vices, but as one with him in feeling\nand nature in all matters. And so they claim to share in involuntary and\nchance ailments, and pretend to have the same complaints, in flattery to\nthose who suffer from any, as that their eyesight and sense of hearing\nare deficient, if their friends are somewhat blind or deaf, as the\nflatterers of Dionysius, who was rather short-sighted, jostled one\nanother at a dinner party, and knocked the dishes off the table, _as if\nfrom defect of vision_.[382] And some to make their cases more similar\nwind themselves in closer, and dive even into family secrets for\nparallels. For seeing that their friends are unfortunate in marriage, or\nsuspicious about the behaviour of their sons or relations, they do not\nspare themselves, but make quite a Jeremiad about their own sons, or\nwife, or kinsfolk, or relations, proclaiming loudly their own family\nsecrets. For similarity in situation makes people more sympathetic, and\ntheir friends having received as it were hostages by their confessions,\nentrust them in return with their secrets, and having once made\nconfidants of them, dare not take back their confidence.[383] I actually\nknow of a man who turned his wife out of doors because his friend had\nput away his; but as he secretly visited her and sent messages to her,\nhe was detected by his friend's wife noticing his conduct. So little did\nhe know the nature of a flatterer that thought the following lines more\napplicable to a crab than a flatterer, \"His whole body is belly, his eye\nis on everything, he is a creature creeping on his teeth,\" for such is a\ntrue picture of the parasite, \"friends of the frying-pan, hunting for a\ndinner,\" to borrow the language of Eupolis.\n\nSec. X. However let us put off all this to its proper place in the\ndiscourse. But let us not fail to notice the wiliness of the flatterer's\nimitation, in that, even if he imitates any good points in the person he\nflatters, he always takes care to give him the palm. Whereas among real\nfriends there is no rivalry or jealousy of one another, but they are\nsatisfied and contented alike whether they are equal or one of them is\nsuperior. But the flatterer, ever remembering that he is to play second\nfiddle,[384] makes his copy always fall a little short of the original,\nfor he admits that he is everywhere outstripped and left behind, except\nin vice. For in that alone he claims pre-eminence, for if his friend is\npeevish, he says he is atrabilious; if his friend is superstitious, he\nsays he is a fanatic; if his friend is in love, he says he is madly in\nlove; if his friend laughs, he will say, \"You laughed a little\nunseasonably, but I almost died of laughter.\" But in regard to any good\npoints his action is quite the opposite. He says he can run quickly, but\nhis friend flies; he says he can ride pretty well, but his friend is a\nCentaur on horseback. He says \"I am not a bad poet, and don't write very\nbad lines\",\n\n  \"'But your sonorous verse is like Jove's thunder.'\"\n\nThus he shows at once that his friend's aims in life are good, and that\nhis friend has reached a height he cannot soar to. Such then are the\ndifferences in the resemblances between the flatterer and the friend.\n\nSec. XI. But since, as has been said before, to give pleasure is common to\nboth, for the good man delights in his friends as much as the bad man in\nhis flatterers, let us consider the difference between them here too.\nThe difference lies in the different aim of each in giving pleasure.\nLook at it this way. There is no doubt a sweet smell in perfume. So\nthere is also in medicine. But the difference is that while in perfume\npleasure and nothing else is designed, in medicine either purging, or\nwarming, or adding flesh to the system, is the primary object, and the\nsweet smell is only a secondary consideration. Again painters mix gay\ncolours and dyes: there are also some drugs which are gay in appearance\nand not unpleasing in colour. What then is the difference between these?\nManifestly we distinguish by the end each aims at. So too the social\nlife of friends employs mirth to add a charm to some good and useful\nend,[385] and sometimes makes joking and a good table and wine, aye, and\neven chaff and banter, the seasoning to noble and serious matters, as\nin the line,\n\n  \"Much they enjoyed talking to one another,\"[386]\n\nand again,\n\n                        \"Never did ought else\n  Disturb our love or joy in one another.\"[387]\n\nBut the flatterer's whole aim and end is to cook up and season his joke\nor word or action, so as to produce pleasure. And to speak concisely,\nthe flatterer's object is to please in everything he does, whereas the\ntrue friend always does what is right, and so often gives pleasure,\noften pain, not wishing the latter, but not shunning it either, if he\ndeems it best. For as the physician, if it be expedient, infuses saffron\nor spikenard, aye, or uses some soothing fomentation or feeds his\npatient up liberally, and sometimes orders castor,\n\n  \"Or poley,[388] that so strong and foully smells,\"\n\nor pounds hellebore and compels him to drink it,--neither in the one\ncase making unpleasantness, nor in the other pleasantness, his end and\naim, but in both studying only the interest of his patient,--so the\nfriend sometimes by praise and kindness, extolling him and gladdening\nhis heart, leads him to what is noble, as Agamemnon,\n\n  \"Teucer, dear head, thou son of Telamon,\n   Go on thus shooting, captain of thy men;\"[389]\n\nor Diomede,\n\n  \"How could I e'er forget divine Odysseus?\"[390]\n\nBut where on the other hand there is need of correction, then he rebukes\nwith biting words and with the freedom worthy of a friend,\n\n  \"Zeus-cherished Menelaus, art thou mad,\n   And in thy folly tak'st no heed of safety?\"[391]\n\nSometimes also he joins action to word, as Menedemus sobered the\nprofligate and disorderly son of his friend Asclepiades, by shutting him\nout of his house, and not speaking to him. And Arcesilaus forbade Bato\nhis school, when he wrote a line in one of his plays against Cleanthes,\nand only got reconciled with him after he repented and made his peace\nwith Cleanthes. For we ought to give our friend pain if it will benefit\nhim, but not to the extent of breaking off our friendship; but just as\nwe make use of some biting medicine, that will save and preserve the\nlife of the patient. And so the friend, like a musician, in bringing\nabout an improvement to what is good and expedient, sometimes slackens\nthe chords, sometimes tightens them, and is often pleasant, but always\nuseful. But the flatterer, always harping on one note, and accustomed to\nplay his accompaniment only with a view to please and to ingratiate\nhimself, knows not how either to oppose in deed, or give pain in word,\nbut complies only with every wish, ever chiming in with and echoing the\nsentiments of his patron. As then Xenophon says Agesilaus took pleasure\nin being praised by those who would also censure him,[392] so ought we\nto think that to please and gratify us is friendly in the person who can\nalso give us pain and oppose us, but to feel suspicion at an intercourse\nwhich is merely for pleasure and gratification, and never pungent, aye\nand by Zeus to have ready that saying of the Lacedaemonian, who, on\nhearing king Charillus praised, said, \"How can he be a good man, who is\nnot severe even to the bad?\"\n\nSec. XII. They say the gadfly attacks bulls, and the tick dogs, in the ear:\nso the flatterer besieges with praise the ears of those who are fond of\npraise, and sticks there and is hard to dislodge. We ought therefore\nhere to make a wide-awake and careful discrimination, whether the praise\nis bestowed on the action or the man. It is bestowed on the action, if\npeople praise the absent rather than the present, if also those that\nhave the same aims and aspirations praise not only us but all that are\nsimilarly disposed, and do not evidently say and do one thing at one\ntime, and the direct contrary at another; and the greatest test is if we\nare conscious, in the matters for which we get the praise, that we have\nnot regretted them, and are not ashamed at them, and would not rather\nhave said and done differently. For our own inward judgement,\ntestifying the contrary and not admitting the praise, is above passion,\nand impregnable and proof against the flatterer. But I know not how it\nis that most people in misfortune cannot bear exhortation, but are\ncaptivated more by condolence and sympathy, and when they have done\nsomething wrong and acted amiss, he that by censure and blame implants\nin them the stings of repentance is looked upon by them as hostile and\nan accuser, while they welcome and regard as friendly and well-disposed\nto them the person who bestows praise and panegyric on what they have\ndone. Those then that readily praise and join in applauding some word or\naction on the part of someone whether in jest or earnest, only do\ntemporary harm for the moment, but those who injure the character by\ntheir praise, aye, and by their flattery undermine the morals, act like\nthose slaves who do not steal from the bin, but from the seed corn.[393]\nFor they pervert the disposition, which is the seed of actions, and the\ncharacter, which is the principle and fountain of life, by attaching to\nvice names that belong properly only to virtue. For as Thucydides\nsays,[394] in times of faction and war \"people change the accustomed\nmeaning of words as applied to acts at their will and pleasure, for\nreckless daring is then considered bravery to one's comrades, and\nprudent delay specious cowardice, and sober-mindedness the cloak of the\ncoward, and taking everything into account before action a real desire\nto do nothing.\" So too in the case of flattery we must observe and be on\nour guard against wastefulness being called liberality, and cowardliness\nprudence, and madness quick-wittedness, and meanness frugality, and the\namorous man called social and affectionate, and the term manly applied\nto the passionate and vain man, and the term civil applied to the paltry\nand mean man. As I remember Plato[395] says the lover is a flatterer of\nthe beloved one, and calls the snub nose graceful, and the aquiline nose\nroyal, and swarthy people manly, and fair people the children of the\ngods, and the olive complexion is merely the lover's phrase to gloss\nover and palliate excessive pallor. And yet the ugly man persuaded he is\nhandsome, or the short man persuaded he is tall, cannot long remain in\nthe error, and receives only slight injury from it, and not irreparable\nmischief: but praise applied to vices as if they were virtues, so that\none is not vexed but delighted with a vicious life, removes all shame\nfrom wrong-doing, and was the ruin of the Sicilians, by calling the\nsavage cruelty of Dionysius and Phalaris detestation of wickedness and\nuprightness. It was the ruin of Egypt, by styling Ptolemy's effeminacy,\nand superstition, and howlings, and beating of drums, religion and\nservice to the gods.[396] It was nearly the overthrow and destruction of\nthe ancient manners of the Romans, palliating the luxury and\nintemperance and display of Antony as exhibitions of jollity and\nkindliness, when his power and fortune were at their zenith. What else\ninvested Ptolemy[397] with his pipe and fiddle? What else brought\nNero[398] on the tragic stage, and invested him with the mask and\nbuskins? Was it not the praise of flatterers? And are not many kings\ncalled Apollos if they can just sing a song,[399] and Dionysuses if they\nget drunk, and Herculeses if they can wrestle, and do they not joy in\nsuch titles, and are they not dragged into every kind of disgrace by\nflattery?\n\nSec. XIII. Wherefore we must be especially on our guard against the\nflatterer in regard to praise; as indeed he is very well aware himself,\nand clever to avoid suspicion. If he light upon some dandy, or rustic in\na thick leather garment, he treats him with nothing but jeers and\nmocks,[400] as Struthias insulted Bias, ironically praising him for his\nstupidity, saying, \"You have drunk more than king Alexander,\"[401] and,\n\"that he was ready to die of laughing at his tale about the\nCyprian.\"[402] But when he sees people more refined very much on their\nguard, and observing both time and place, he does not praise them\ndirectly, but draws off a little and wheels round and approaches them\nnoiselessly, as one tries to catch a wild animal. For sometimes he\nreports to a man the panegyric of other persons upon him, (as orators\ndo, introducing some third person,) saying that he had a very pleasant\nconversation in the market with some strangers and men of worth, who\nmentioned how they admired his many good points. On another occasion he\nconcocts and fabricates some false and trifling charges against him,\npretending he has heard them from other people, and runs up with a\nserious face and inquires, where he said or did such and such a thing.\nAnd upon his denying he ever did, he pounces on him at once[403] and\ncompliments his man with, \"I thought it strange that you should have\nspoken ill of your friends, seeing that you don't even treat your\nenemies so: and that you should have tried to rob other people, seeing\nthat you are so lavish with your own money.\"\n\nSec. XIV. Other flatterers again, just as painters heighten the effect of\ntheir pictures by the combination of light and shade, so by censure\nabuse detraction and ridicule of the opposite virtues secretly praise\nand foment the actual vices of those they flatter. Thus they censure\nmodesty as merely rustic behaviour in the company of profligates, and\ngreedy people, and villains, and such as have got rich by evil and\ndishonourable courses; and contentment and uprightness they call having\nno spirit or energy in action; and when they associate with lazy and\nidle persons who avoid all public duties, they are not ashamed to call\nthe life of a citizen wearisome meddling in other people's affairs, and\nthe desire to hold office fruitless vain-glory. And some ere now to\nflatter an orator have depreciated a philosopher, and others won favour\nwith wanton women by traducing those wives who are faithful to their\nhusbands as constitutionally cold and countrybred. And by an acme of\nvillainy flatterers do not always spare even themselves. For as\nwrestlers stoop that they may the easier give their adversaries a fall,\nso by censuring themselves they glide into praising others. \"I am a\ncowardly slave,\" says such a one, \"at sea, I shirk labour, I am madly in\nrage if a word is said against me; but this man fears nothing, has no\nvices, is a rare good fellow, patient and easy in all circumstances.\"\nBut if a person has an excellent idea of his own good sense, and desires\nto be austere and self-opinionated, and in his moral rectitude is ever\nspouting that line of Homer,\n\n  \"Tydides, neither praise nor blame me much,\"[404]\n\nthe artistic flatterer does not attack him as he attacked others, but\nemploys against such a one a new device. For he comes to him about his\nown private affairs, as if desirous to have the advice of one wiser than\nhimself; he has, he says, more intimate friends, but he is obliged to\ntrouble him; \"for whither shall we that are deficient in judgement go?\nwhom shall we trust?\" And having listened to his utterance he departs,\nsaying he has received an oracle not an opinion. And if he notices that\nsomebody lays claim to experience in oratory, he gives him some of his\nwritings, and begs him to read and correct them. So, when king\nMithridates took a fancy to play the surgeon, several of his friends\noffered themselves for operating upon, as for cutting or cauterizing,\nflattering in deed and not in word, for his being credited by them would\nseem to prove his skill.[405]\n\n  \"For Providence has many different aspects.\"[406]\n\nBut we can test this kind of negative praise, that needs more wary\ncaution, by purposely giving strange advice and suggestions, and by\nadopting absurd corrections. For if he raises no objection but nods\nassent to everything, and approves of everything, and is always crying\nout, \"Good! How admirable!\" he is evidently\n\n  \"Asking advice, but seeking something else,\"\n\nwishing by praise to puff you up.\n\nSec. XV. Moreover, as some have defined painting to be silent poetry,[407]\nso is there praise in silent flattery. For as hunters are more likely to\ncatch the objects of their chase unawares, if they do not openly appear\nto be so engaged, but seem to be walking, or tending their sheep, or\nlooking after the farm, so flatterers obtain most success in their\npraise, when they do not seem to be praising but to be doing something\nelse. For he who gives up his place or seat to the great man when he\ncomes in, and while making a speech to the people or senate breaks off\neven in the middle, if he observes any rich man wants to speak, and\ngives up to him alike speech and platform, shows by his silence even\nmore than he would by any amount of vociferation that he thinks the\nother the better man, and superior to him in judgement. And consequently\nyou may always see them occupying the best places at theatres and public\nassembly rooms, not that they think themselves worthy of them, but that\nthey may flatter the rich by giving up their places to them; and at\npublic meetings they begin speaking first, and then make way as for\nbetter men, and most readily take back their own view, if any\ninfluential or rich or famous person espouse the contrary view. And so\none can see plainly that all such servility and drawing back on their\npart is a lowering their sails, not to experience or virtue or age, but\nto wealth and fame. Not so Apelles the famous painter, who, when\nMegabyzus sat with him, and wished to talk about lines and shades, said\nto him, \"Do you see my lads yonder grinding colours, they admired just\nnow your purple and gold, but now they are laughing at you for beginning\nto talk about what you don't understand.\"[408] And Solon, when Croesus\nasked him about happiness, replied that Tellus, an obscure Athenian, and\nBito and Cleobis were happier than he was.[409] But flatterers proclaim\nkings and rich men and rulers not only happy and fortunate, but also\npre-eminent for wisdom, and art, and every virtue.\n\nSec. XVI. Now some cannot bear to hear the assertion of the Stoics[410]\nthat the wise man is at once rich, and handsome, and noble, and a king;\nbut flatterers declare that the rich man is at once orator and poet, and\n(if he likes) painter, and flute-player, and swift-footed, and strong,\nfalling down if he wrestles with them, and if contending with him in\nrunning letting him win the race, as Crisso of Himera purposely allowed\nAlexander to outrun him, which vexed the king very much when he heard of\nit.[411] And Carneades said that the sons of rich men and kings learnt\nnothing really well and properly except how to ride, for their master\npraised and flattered them in their studies, and the person who taught\nthem wrestling always let them throw him, whereas the horse, not knowing\nor caring whether his rider were a private person or ruler, rich or\npoor, soon threw him over his head if he could not ride well. Simple\ntherefore and fatuous was that remark of Bion, \"If you could by\nencomiums make your field to yield well and be fruitful, you could not\nbe thought wrong in tilling it so rather than digging it and labouring\nin it: nor would it be strange in you to praise human beings if by so\ndoing you could be useful and serviceable to them.\" For a field does not\nbecome worse by being praised, but those who praise a man falsely and\nagainst his deserts puff him up and ruin him.\n\nSec. XVII. Enough has been said on this matter: let us now examine\noutspokenness. For just as Patroclus put on the armour of Achilles, and\ndrove his horses to the battle, only durst not touch his spear from\nMount Pelion, but let that alone, so ought the flatterer, tricked out\nand modelled in the distinctive marks and tokens of the friend, to leave\nuntouched and uncopied only his outspokenness, as the special burden of\nfriendship, \"heavy, huge, strong.\"[412] But since flatterers, to avoid\nthe blame they incur by their buffoonery, and drinking, and gibes, and\njokes, sometimes work their ends by frowns and gravity, and intermix\ncensure and reproof, let us not pass this over either without\nexamination. And I think, as in Menander's Play the sham Hercules comes\non the stage not with a club stout and strong, but with a light and\nhollow cane, so the outspokenness of the flatterer is to those who\nexperience it mild and soft, and the very reverse of vigorous, and like\nthose cushions for women's heads, which seem able to stand their ground,\nbut in reality yield and give way under their pressure; so this sham\noutspokenness is puffed up and inflated with an empty and spurious and\nhollow bombast, that when it contracts and collapses draws in the person\nwho relies on it. For true and friendly outspokenness attacks\nwrong-doers, bringing pain that is salutary and likely to make them more\ncareful, like honey biting but cleansing ulcerated parts of the\nbody,[413] but in other respects serviceable and sweet. But we will\nspeak of this anon.[414] But the flatterer first exhibits himself as\ndisagreeable and passionate and unforgiving in his dealings with others.\nFor he is harsh to his servants, and a terrible fellow to attack and\nferret out the faults of his kinsmen and friends, and to look up to and\nrespect nobody who is a stranger, but to look down upon them, and is\nrelentless and mischief-making in making people provoked with others,\nhunting after the reputation of hating vice, as one not likely knowingly\nto mince matters with the vicious, or ingratiate himself with them\neither in word or deed. Next he pretends to know nothing of real and\ngreat crimes, but he is a terrible fellow to inveigh against trifling\nand external shortcomings, and to fasten on them with intensity and\nvehemence, as if he sees any pot or pipkin out of its place, or anyone\nbadly housed, or neglecting his beard or attire, or not adequately\nattending to a horse or dog. But contempt of parents, and neglect of\nchildren, and bad treatment of wife, and haughtiness to friends, and\nthrowing away money, all this he cares nothing about, but is silent and\ndoes not dare to make any allusion to it: just as if the trainer in a\ngymnasium were to allow the athlete to get drunk and live in\ndebauchery,[415] and yet be vexed at the condition of his oil-flask or\nstrigil if out of order; or as if the schoolmaster scolded a boy about\nhis tablet and pen, but paid no attention to a solecism or barbarism.\nThe flatterer is like a man who should make no comment on the speech of\na silly and ridiculous orator, but should find fault with his voice, and\nchide him for injuring his throat by drinking cold water; or like a\nperson bidden to read some wretched composition, who should merely find\nfault with the thickness of the paper, and call the copyist a dirty and\ncareless fellow. So too when Ptolemy seemed to desire to become learned,\nhis flatterers used to spin out the time till midnight, disputing about\nsome word or line or history, but not one of them all objected to his\ncruelty and outrages, his torturing and beating people to death.[416]\nJust as if, when a man has tumours and fistulas, one were to cut his\nhair and nails with a surgeon's knife, so flatterers use outspokenness\nonly in cases where it gives no pain or distress.\n\nSec. XVIII. Moreover some of them are cleverer still and make their\noutspokenness and censure a means of imparting pleasure. As Agis the\nArgive,[417] when Alexander bestowed great gifts on a buffoon, cried out\nin envy and displeasure, \"What a piece of absurdity!\" and on the king\nturning angrily to him and saying, \"What are you talking about?\" he\nreplied, \"I admit that I am vexed and put out, when I see that all you\ndescendants of Zeus alike take delight in flatterers and jesters, for\nHercules had his Cercopes, and Dionysus his Sileni, and with you too I\nsee that such are held in good repute.\" And on one occasion, when the\nEmperor Tiberius entered the senate, one of his flatterers got up and\nsaid, that being free men they ought to be outspoken, and not suppress\nor conceal anything that might be important, and having by this exordium\nengaged everybody's attention, a dead silence prevailing, and even\nTiberius being all attention, he said, \"Listen, Caesar, to what we all\ncharge you with, although no one ventures to tell you openly of it; you\nneglect yourself, and are careless about your health, and wear yourself\nout with anxiety and labour on our behalf, taking no rest either by\nnight or day.\" And on his stringing much more together in the same\nstrain, they say the orator Cassius Severus said, \"This outspokenness\nwill ruin the man.\"\n\nSec. XIX. These are indeed trifling matters: but the following are more\nimportant and do mischief to foolish people, when flatterers accuse them\nof the very contrary vices and passions to those to which they are\nreally addicted; as Himerius the flatterer twitted a very rich, very\nmean, and very covetous Athenian with being a careless spendthrift, and\nlikely one day to want bread as well as his children; or on the other\nhand if they rail at extravagant spendthrifts for meanness and\nsordidness, as Titus Petronius railed at Nero; or exhort rulers who make\nsavage and cruel attacks on their subjects to lay aside their excessive\nclemency, and unseasonable and inexpedient mercy. Similar to these is\nthe person who pretends to be on his guard against and afraid of a silly\nstupid fellow as if he were clever and cunning; and the one who, if any\nperson fond of detraction, rejoicing in defamation and censure, should\nbe induced on any occasion to praise some man of note, fastens on him\nand alleges against him that he has an itch for praising people. \"You\nare always extolling people of no merit: for who is this fellow, or what\nhas he said or done out of the common?\" But it is in regard to the\nobjects of their love that they mostly attack those they flatter, and\nadditionally inflame them. For if they see people at variance with their\nbrothers, or despising their parents, or treating their wives\ncontemptuously, they neither take them to task nor scold them, but fan\nthe flame of their anger still more. \"You don't sufficiently appreciate\nyourself,\" they say, \"you are yourself the cause of your being put upon\nin this way, through your constant submissiveness and humility.\" And if\nthere is any tiff or fit of jealousy in regard to some courtesan or\nadulteress, the flatterer is at hand with remarkable outspokenness,\nadding fuel to flame,[418] and taking the lady's part, and accusing her\nlover of acting in a very unkind harsh and shameful manner to her,\n\n  \"O ingrate, after all those frequent kisses!\"[419]\n\nThus Antony's friends, when he was passionately in love with the\nEgyptian woman,[420] persuaded him that he was loved by her, and twitted\nhim with being cold and haughty to her. \"She,\" they said, \"has left her\nmighty kingdom and happy mode of life, and is wasting her beauty, taking\nthe field with you like some camp-follower,\n\n  \"The while your heart is proof 'gainst all her charms,\"[421]\n\nas you neglect her love-lorn as she is.\" But he that is pleased at being\nreproached with his wrong-doing, and delights in those that censure him,\nas he never did in those that praised him, is unconscious that he is\nreally perverted also by what seems to be rebuke. For such outspokenness\nis like the bites of wanton women,[422] that while seeming to hurt\nreally tickle and excite pleasure. And just as if people mix pure wine,\nwhich is by itself an antidote against hemlock, with it and so offer it,\nthey make the poison quite deadly, being rapidly carried to the heart by\nthe warmth,[423] so ill-disposed men, knowing that outspokenness is a\ngreat antidote to flattery, make it a means of flattering. And so it was\nrather a bad answer Bias[424] made, to the person who inquired what was\nthe most formidable animal, \"Of wild animals the tyrant, and of tame the\nflatterer.\" For it would have been truer to observe that tame flatterers\nare those that are found round the baths and table, but the one that\nintrudes into the interior of the house and into the women's apartments\nwith his curiosity and calumny and malignity, like the legs and arms of\nthe polypus, is wild and savage and unmanageable.\n\nSec. XX. Now one kind of caution against his snares is to know and ever\nremember that, whereas the soul contains true and noble and reasoning\nelements, as also unreasoning and false and emotional ones, the friend\nis always a counsellor and adviser to the better instincts of the soul,\nas the physician improves and maintains health, whereas the flatterer\nworks upon the emotional and unreasoning ones, and tickles and\ntitillates them and seduces them from reason, employing sensuality as\nhis bait. As then there are some kinds of food which neither benefit the\nblood or spirit, nor brace up the nerves and marrow, but stir the\npassions, excite the lower nature, and make the flesh unsound and\nrotten, so the language of the flatterer adds nothing to soberness and\nreason, but encourages some love passion, or stirs up foolish rage, or\nincites to envy, or produces the empty and burdensome vanity of pride,\nor joins in bewailing woes, or ever by his calumnies and hints makes\nmalignity and illiberality and suspicion sharp and timid and jealous,\nand cannot fail to be detected by those that closely observe him. For he\nis ever anchoring himself upon some passion, and fattening it, and, like\na bubo, fastens himself on some unsound and inflamed parts of the soul.\nAre you angry? Have your revenge, says he. Do you desire anything? Get\nit. Are you afraid? Let us flee. Do you suspect? Entertain no doubts\nabout it. But if he is difficult to detect in thus playing upon our\npassions, since they often overthrow reason by their intensity and\nstrength, he will give a handle to find him out in smaller matters,\nbeing consistent in them too. For if anyone feels a little uneasy after\na surfeit or excess in drink, and so is a little particular about his\nfood and doubts the advisability of taking a bath, a friend will try and\ncheck him from excess, and bid him be careful and not indulge, whereas\nthe flatterer will drag him to the bath, bid him serve up some fresh\nfood, and not starve himself and so injure his constitution. And if he\nsee him reluctant about a journey or voyage or some business or other,\nhe will say that there is no hurry, that it's all one whether the\nbusiness be put off, or somebody else despatched to look after it. And\nif you have promised to lend or give some money to a friend, but have\nrepented of your offer, and yet feel ashamed not to keep your promise,\nthe flatterer will throw his influence into the worse scale, he will\nconfirm your desire to save your purse, he will destroy your reluctance,\nand will bid you be careful as having many expenses, and others to think\nabout besides that person. And so, unless we are entirely ignorant of\nour desires, our shamelessness, and our timidity, the flatterer cannot\neasily escape our detection. For he is ever the advocate of those\npassions, and outspoken when we desire to repress them.[425] But so much\nfor this matter.\n\nSec. XXI. Now let us pass on to useful and kind services, for in them too\nthe flatterer makes it very difficult and confusing to detect him from\nthe friend, seeming to be zealous and ready on all occasions and never\ncrying off. For, as Euripides says,[426] a friend's behaviour is, \"like\nthe utterance of truth, simple,\" and plain and inartificial, while that\nof the flatterer \"is in itself unsound, and needs wise remedies,\" aye,\nby Zeus, and many such, and not ordinary ones. As for example in chance\nmeetings the friend often neither speaks nor is spoken to, but merely\nlooks and smiles, and then passes on, showing his inner affection and\ngoodwill only by his countenance, which his friend also reciprocates,\nbut the flatterer runs up, follows, holds out his hand at a distance,\nand if he is seen and addressed first, frequently protests with oaths,\nand calls witnesses to prove, that he did not see you. So in business\nfriends neglect many unimportant points, are not too punctilious and\nofficious, and do not thrust themselves upon every service, but the\nflatterer is persevering and unceasing and indefatigable in it, giving\nnobody else either room or place to help, but putting himself wholly at\nyour disposal, and if you will not find him something to do for you, he\nis troubled, nay rather altogether dejected and lamenting loudly.[427]\n\nSec. XXII. To all sensible people all this is an indication, not of true or\nsober friendship, but of a meretricious one, that embraces you more\nwarmly than there is any occasion for. Nevertheless let us first look at\nthe difference between the friend and flatterer in their promises. For\nit has been well said by those who have handled this subject before us,\nthat the friend's promise is,\n\n  \"If I can do it, and 'tis to be done,\"\n\nbut the flatterer's is,\n\n  \"Speak out your mind, whate'er it is, to me.\"[428]\n\nAnd the comic dramatists put such fellows on the stage,\n\n  \"Nicomachus, pit me against that soldier,\n   See if I beat him not into a jelly,\n   And make his face e'en softer than a sponge.\"[429]\n\nIn the next place no friend participates in any matter, unless he has\nfirst been asked his advice, and put the matter to the test, and set it\non a suitable and expedient basis. But the flatterer, if anyone allows\nhim to examine a matter and give his opinion on it, not only wishes to\ngratify him by compliance, but also fearing to be looked upon with\nsuspicion as unwilling and reluctant to engage in the business, gives in\nto and even urges on his friend's desire. For there is hardly any king\nor rich man who would say,\n\n  \"O that a beggar I could find, or worse\n   Than beggar, if, with good intent to me,\n   He would lay bare his heart boldly and honestly;\"[430]\n\nbut, like the tragedians, they require a chorus of sympathizing friends,\nor the applause of a theatre. And so Merope gives the following advice\nin the tragedy,\n\n  \"Choose you for friends those who will speak their mind,\n   For those bad men that only speak to please\n   See that you bolt and bar out of your house.\"[431]\n\nBut they act just the contrary, for they turn away with horror from\nthose who speak their mind, and hold different views as to what is\nexpedient, while they welcome those bad and illiberal impostors (that\nonly speak to please them) not only within their houses, but also to\ntheir affections and secrets. Now the simpler of these do not think\nright or claim to advise you in important matters, but only to assist in\nthe carrying out of them: but the more cunning one stands by during the\ndiscussion, and knits his brows, and nods assent with his head, but says\nnothing, but if his friend express an opinion, he then says, \"Hercules,\nyou only just anticipated me, I was about to make that very remark.\" For\nas the mathematicians tell us that surfaces and lines neither bend nor\nextend nor move of themselves, being without body and only perceived by\nthe mind, but only bend and extend and change their position with the\nbodies whose extremities they are: so you will catch the flatterer ever\nassenting with, and agreeing with, aye, and feeling with, and being\nangry with, another, so easy of detection in all these points of view is\nthe difference between the friend and the flatterer. Moreover as regards\nthe kind of good service. For the favour done by a friend, as the\nprincipal strength of an animal is within, is not for display or\nostentation, but frequently as a doctor cures his patient imperceptibly,\nso a friend benefits by his intervention, or by paying off creditors, or\nby managing his friend's affairs, even though the person who receives\nthe benefit may not be aware of it. Such was the behaviour of Arcesilaus\non various occasions, and when Apelles[432] of Chios was ill, knowing\nhis poverty, he took with him twenty drachmae when he visited him, and\nsitting down beside him he said, \"There is nothing here but those\nelements of Empedocles, 'fire and water and earth and balmy expanse of\nair,' but you don't lie very comfortably,\" and with that he moved his\npillow, and privately put the money under it. And when his old\nhousekeeper found it, and wonderingly told Apelles of it, he laughed and\nsaid, \"This is some trick of Arcesilaus.\" And the saying is also true in\nphilosophy that \"children are like their parents.\"[433] For when\nCephisocrates had to stand his trial on a bill of indictment, Lacydes\n(who was an intimate friend of Arcesilaus) stood by him with several\nother friends, and when the prosecutor asked for his ring, which was the\nprincipal evidence against him, Cephisocrates quietly dropped it on the\nground, and Lacydes noticing this put his foot on it and so hid it. And\nafter sentence was pronounced in his favour, Cephisocrates going up to\nthank the jury, one of them who had seen the artifice told him to thank\nLacydes, and related to him all the matter, though Lacydes had not said\na word about it to anybody. So also I think the gods do often perform\nbenefits secretly, taking a natural delight in bestowing their favours\nand bounties.[434] But the good service of the flatterer has no justice,\nor genuineness, or simplicity, or liberality about it; but is\naccompanied with sweat, and running about, and noise, and knitting of\nthe brow, creating an impression and appearance of toilsome and bustling\nservice, like a painting over-curiously wrought in bold colours, and\nwith bent folds wrinkles and angles, to make the closer resemblance to\nlife. Moreover he tires one by relating what journeys and anxieties he\nhas had over the matter, how many enemies he has made over it, the\nthousand bothers and annoyances he has gone through, so that you say,\n\"The affair was not worth all this trouble.\" For being reminded of any\nfavour done to one is always unpleasant and disagreeable and\ninsufferable:[435] but the flatterer not only reminds us of his services\nafterwards, but even during the very moment of doing them upbraids us\nwith them and is importunate. But the friend, if he is obliged to\nmention the matter, relates it modestly, and says not a word about\nhimself. And so, when the Lacedaemonians sent corn to the people of\nSmyrna that needed it, and the people of Smyrna wondered at their\nkindness, the Lacedaemonians said, \"It was no great matter, we only voted\nthat we and our beasts of burden should go without our dinner one day,\nand sent what was so saved to you.\"[436] Not only is it handsome to do a\nfavour in that way, but it is more pleasant to the receivers of it,\nbecause they think those who have done them the service have done it at\nno great loss to themselves.\n\nSec. XXIII. But it is not so much by the importunity of the flatterer in\nregard to services, nor by his facility in making promises, that one can\nrecognize his nature, as by the honourable or dishonourable kind of\nservice, and by the regard to please or to be of real use. For the\nfriend is not as Gorgias defined him, one who will ask his friend to\nhelp him in what is right, while he will himself do many services for\nhis friend that are not right.\n\n  \"For friend should share in good not in bad action.\"[437]\n\nHe will therefore rather try and turn him away from what is not\nbecoming, and if he cannot persuade him, good is that answer of Phocion\nto Antipater, \"You cannot have me both as friend and flatterer,\"[438]\nthat is, as friend and no friend. For one must indeed assist one's\nfriend but not do anything wrong for him, one must advise with him but\nnot plot with him, one must bear witness for him but not join him in\nfraud, one must certainly share adversity with him but not crime. For\nsince we should not wish even to know of our friends' dishonourable\nacts, much less should we desire to share their dishonour by acting with\nthem. As then the Lacedaemonians, when conquered in battle by Antipater,\non settling the terms of peace, begged that he would lay upon them what\nburdens he pleased, provided he enjoined nothing dishonourable, so the\nfriend, if any necessity arise involving expense or danger or trouble,\nis the first to desire to be applied to and share in it with alacrity\nand without crying off, but if there be anything disgraceful in\nconnection with it he begs to have nothing to do with it. The flatterer\non the contrary cries off from toilsome and dangerous employments, and\nif you put him to the test by ringing him,[439] he returns a hollow and\nspurious sound, and finds some excuse; whereas use him in disgraceful\nand low and disreputable service, and trample upon him, he will think no\ntreatment too bad or ignominious. Have you observed the ape? He cannot\nguard the house like the dog, nor bear burdens like the horse, nor\nplough like the ox, so he has to bear insult and ribaldry, and put up\nwith being made sport of, exhibiting himself as an instrument to produce\nlaughter. So too the flatterer, who can neither advocate your cause, nor\ngive you useful counsel, nor share in your contention with anybody, but\nshirks all labour and toil, never makes any excuses in underhand\ntransactions, is sure to lend a helping hand in any love affair, is\nenergetic in setting free some harlot, and not careless in clearing off\nthe account of a drinking score, nor remiss in making preparations for\nbanquets, and obsequious to concubines, but if ordered to be uncivil to\nyour relations, or to help in turning your wife out of doors, he is\nrelentless and not to be put out of countenance. So that he is not hard\nto detect here too. For if ordered to do anything you please\ndisreputable or dishonourable, he is ready to take any pains to oblige\nyou.\n\nSec. XXIV. One might detect again how greatly the flatterer differs from\nthe friend by his behaviour to other friends. For the friend is best\npleased with loving and being beloved by many, and also always tries to\ncontrive for his friend that he too may be much loved and honoured, for\nhe believes in the proverb \"the goods of friends are common\nproperty,\"[440] and thinks it ought to apply to nothing more than to\nfriends; but the false and spurious and counterfeit friend, knowing how\nmuch he debases friendship, like debased and spurious coin, is not only\nby nature envious, but shows his envy even of those who are like\nhimself, striving to outdo them in scurrility and gossip, while he\nquakes and trembles at any of his betters, not by Zeus \"merely walking\non foot by their Lydian chariot,\" but, to use the language of Simonides,\n\"not even, having pure lead by comparison with their refined\ngold.\"[441] Whenever then, being light and counterfeit and false, he is\nput to the test at close quarters with a true and solid and cast-iron\nfriendship, he cannot stand the test but is detected at once, and\nimitates the conduct of the painter that painted some wretched cocks,\nfor he ordered his lad to scare away all live cocks as far from his\npicture as possible. So he too scares away real friends and will not let\nthem come near if he can help it, but if he cannot prevent that, he\nopenly fawns upon them, and courts them, and admires them as his\nbetters, but privately runs them down and spreads calumnies about them.\nAnd when secret detraction has produced a sore feeling,[442] if he has\nnot effected his end completely, he remembers and observes the teaching\nof Medius, who was the chief of Alexander's flatterers, and a leading\nsophist in conspiracy against the best men. He bade people confidently\nsow their calumny broadcast and bite with it, teaching them that even if\nthe person injured should heal his sore, the scar of the calumny would\nremain. Consumed by these scars, or rather gangrenes and cancers,\nAlexander put to death Callisthenes, and Parmenio, and Philotas; while\nhe himself submitted to be completely outwitted by such as Agnon, and\nBagoas, and Agesias, and Demetrius, who worshipped him and tricked him\nup and feigned him to be a barbaric god. So great is the power of\nflattery, and nowhere greater, as it seems, than among the greatest\npeople. For their thinking and wishing the best about themselves makes\nthem credit the flatterer, and gives him courage.[443] For lofty heights\nare difficult of approach and hard to reach for those who endeavour to\nscale them, but the highmindedness and conceit of a person thrown off\nhis balance by good fortune or good natural parts is easily reached by\nmean and petty people.\n\nSec. XXV. And so we advised at the beginning of this discourse, and now\nadvise again, to cut off self-love and too high an opinion of ourselves;\nfor that flatters us first, and makes us more impressionable and\nprepared for external flatterers. But if we hearken to the god, and\nrecognize the immense importance to everyone of that saying, \"Know\nthyself,\"[444] and at the same time carefully observe our nature and\neducation and training, with its thousand shortcomings in respect to\ngood, and the large proportion of vice and vanity mixed up with our\nwords and deeds and feelings, we shall not make ourselves so easy a mark\nfor flatterers. Alexander said that he disbelieved those who called him\na god chiefly in regard to sleep and the sexual delight, for in both\nthose things he was more ignoble and emotional than in other\nrespects.[445] So we, if we observe the blots, blemishes, shortcomings,\nand imperfections of our private selves, shall perceive clearly that we\ndo not need a friend who shall bestow upon us praise and panegyric, but\none that will reprove us, and speak plainly to us, aye, by Zeus, and\ncensure us if we have done amiss. For it is only a few out of many that\nventure to speak plainly to their friends rather than gratify them, and\neven among those few you will not easily find any who know how to do so\nproperly, for they think they are outspoken when they abuse and scold.\nAnd yet, just as in the case of any other medicine, to employ freedom of\nspeech unseasonably is only to give needless pain and trouble, and in a\nmanner to do so as to produce vexation the very thing the flatterer does\nso as to produce pleasure. For it does people harm not only to praise\nthem unseasonably but also to blame them unseasonably, and especially\nexposes them to the successful attack of flatterers, for, like water,\nthey abandon the rugged hills for the soft grassy valleys. And so\noutspokenness ought to be tempered with kindness, and reason ought to be\ncalled in to correct its excessive tartness, (as we tone down the too\npowerful glare of a lamp), that people may not, by being troubled and\ngrieved at continual blame and rebuke, fly for refuge to the shade of\nthe flatterer, and turn aside to him to free themselves from annoyance.\nFor we ought, Philopappus, to banish all vice by virtue, not by the\nopposite vice, as some hold,[446] by exchanging modesty for impudence,\nand countrified ways for town ribaldry, and by removing their character\nas far as possible from cowardice and effeminacy, even if that should\nmake people get very near to audacity and foolhardiness. And some even\nmake superstition a plea for atheism, and stupidity a plea for knavery,\nperverting their nature, like a stick bent double, from inability to set\nit straight. But the basest disowning of flattery is to be disagreeable\nwithout any purpose in view, and it shows an altogether inelegant and\nclumsy unfitness for social intercourse to shun by unpleasing moroseness\nthe suspicion of being mean and servile in friendship; like the freedman\nin the comedy who thought railing only enjoying freedom of speech.\nSeeing then, that it is equally disgraceful to become a flatterer\nthrough trying only to please, as in avoiding flattery to destroy all\nfriendship and intimacy by excessive freedom of speech, we must avoid\nboth these extremes, and, as in any other case, make our freedom of\nspeech agreeable by its moderation. So the subject itself seems next to\ndemand that I should conclude it by discussing that point.\n\nSec. XXVI. As then we see that much trouble arises from excessive freedom\nof speech, let us first of all detach from it any element of self-love,\nbeing carefully on our guard that we may not appear to upbraid on\naccount of any private hurt or injury. For people do not regard a speech\non the speaker's own behalf as arising from goodwill, but from anger,\nand reproach rather than admonition. For freedom in speech is friendly\nand has weight, but reproach is selfish and little. And so people\nrespect and admire those that speak their mind freely, but accuse back\nand despise those that reproach them: as Agamemnon would not stand the\nmoderate freedom of speech of Achilles, but submitted to and endured\nthe bitter attack and speech of Odysseus,\n\n  \"Pernicious chief, would that thou didst command\n   Some sorry host, and not such men as these!\"[447]\n\nfor he was restrained by the carefulness and sobriety of his speech, and\nalso Odysseus had no private motive of anger but only spoke out on\nbehalf of Greece,[448] whereas Achilles seemed rather vexed on his own\naccount. And Achilles himself, though not sweet-tempered or mild of\nmood, but \"a terrible man, and one that would perchance blame an\ninnocent person,\"[449] yet silently listened to Patroclus bringing\nagainst him many such charges as the following,\n\n  \"Pitiless one, thy sire never was\n   Knight Peleus, nor thy mother gentle Thetis,\n   But the blue sea and steep and rocky crags\n   Thy parents were, so flinty is thy heart.\"[450]\n\nFor as Hyperides the orator bade the Athenians consider not only whether\nhe spoke bitterly, but whether he spoke so from interested motives,[451]\nso the rebuke of a friend void of all private feeling is solemn and\ngrave and what one dare not lightly face. And if anyone shows plainly in\nhis freedom of speech, that he altogether passes over and dismisses any\noffences his friend has done to himself, and only blames him for other\nshortcomings, and does not spare him but gives him pain for the\ninterests of others, the tone of his outspokenness is invincible, and\nthe sweetness of his manner even intensifies the bitterness and\nausterity of his rebuke. And so it has well been said, that in anger and\ndifferences with our friends we ought more especially to act with a view\nto their interest or honour. And no less friendly is it, when it appears\nthat we have been passed over and neglected, to boldly put in a word for\nothers that are neglected too, and to remind people of them, as Plato,\nwhen he was out of favour with Dionysius, begged for an audience, and\nDionysius granted it, thinking that Plato had some personal grievance\nand was going to enter into it, but Plato opened the conversation as\nfollows, \"If, Dionysius, you knew that some enemy had sailed to Sicily\nwith a view to do you some harm, but found no opportunity, would you\nallow him to sail back again, and go off scot-free?\" \"Certainly not,\nPlato,\" replied Dionysius, \"for we must not only hate and punish the\ndeeds of our enemies, but also their intentions.\" \"If then,\" said Plato,\n\"anyone has come here for your benefit, and wishes to do you good, and\nyou do not find him an opportunity, is it right to let him go away with\nneglect and without thanks?\" And on Dionysius asking, who he meant, he\nreplied, \"I mean AEschines, a man of as good a character as any of\nSocrates' pupils whatever, and able to improve by his conversation any\nwith whom he might associate: and he is neglected, though he has made a\nlong voyage here to discuss philosophy with you.\" This speech so\naffected Dionysius, that he at once threw his arms round Plato and\nembraced him, admiring his benevolence and loftiness of mind, and\ntreated AEschines well and handsomely.\n\nSec. XXVII. In the next place, let us clear away as it were and remove all\ninsolence, and jeering, and mocking, and ribaldry, which are the evil\nseasonings of freedom of speech. For as, when the surgeon performs an\noperation, a certain neatness and delicacy of touch ought to accompany\nhis use of the knife, but all pantomimic and venturesome and fashionable\nsuppleness and over-finicalness ought to be far away from his hand, so\nfreedom of speech admits of dexterity and politeness, provided that a\npleasant way of putting it does not destroy the power of the rebuke, for\nimpudence and coarseness and insolence, if added to freedom of speech,\nentirely mar and ruin the effect. And so the harper plausibly and\nelegantly silenced Philip, who ventured to dispute with him about proper\nplaying on the harp, by answering him, \"God forbid that you should be so\nunfortunate, O king, as to understand harping better than me.\" But that\nwas not a right answer of Epicharmus, when Hiero a few days after\nputting to death some of his friends invited him to supper, \"You did not\ninvite me,\" he said, \"the other day, when you sacrificed your friends.\"\nBad also was that answer of Antiphon, who, when Dionysius asked him\n\"which was the best kind of bronze,\" answered, \"That of which the\nAthenians made statues of Harmodius and Aristogiton.\" For this\nunpleasant and bitter kind of language profits not those that use it,\nnor does scurrility and puerile jesting please, but such kind of\nspeeches are indications of an incontinent tongue inspired by hate, and\nfull of malignity and insolence, and those who use such language do but\nruin themselves, recklessly dancing on the verge of a well.[452] For\nAntiphon was put to death by Dionysius, and Timagenes lost the\nfriendship of Augustus, not by using on any occasion too free a tongue,\nbut at supper-parties and walks always declining to talk seriously,\n\"only saying what he knew would make the Argives laugh,\"[453] and thus\nvirtually charging friendship with being only a cloak for abuse. For\neven the comic poets have introduced on the stage many grave sentiments\nwell adapted to public life, but joking and ribaldry being mixed with\nthem, like insipid sauces with food, destroy their effect and make them\nlose their nourishing power, so that the comic poets only get a\nreputation for malignity and coarseness, and the audience get no benefit\nfrom what is said. We may on other occasions jest and laugh with our\nfriends, but let our outspokenness be coupled with seriousness and\ngravity, and if it be on important matters, let our speech be\ntrustworthy and moving from its pathos, and animation, and tone of\nvoice. And on all occasions to let an opportunity slip by is very\ninjurious, but especially does it destroy the usefulness of freedom of\nspeech. It is plain therefore that we must abstain from freedom of\nspeech when men are in their cups. For he disturbs the harmony of a\nsocial gathering[454] who, in the midst of mirth and jollity, introduces\na topic that shall knit the brows and contract the face, and shall act\nas a damper to the Lysian[455] god, who, as Pindar says, \"looses the\nrope of all our cares and anxieties.\" There is also great danger in such\nill-timed freedom of speech. For wine makes people easily slip into\nrage, and oftentimes freedom of speech in liquor makes enemies. And\ngenerally speaking it is not noble or brave but cowardly to conceal your\nideas when people are sober and to give free vent to them at table,\nsnarling like cowardly dogs. We need say no more therefore on this head.\n\nSec. XXVIII. But since many people do not think fit or even dare to find\nfault with their friends when in prosperity, but think that condition\naltogether out of the reach and range of rebuke, but inveigh against\nthem if they have made a slip or stumble, and trample upon them if they\nare in dejection and in their power, and, like a stream swollen above\nits banks, pour upon them then the torrent of all their eloquence,[456]\nand enjoy and are glad at their reverse of fortune, owing to their\nformer contempt of them when they were poor themselves, it is not amiss\nto discuss this somewhat, and to answer those words of Euripides,\n\n  \"What need of friends, when things go well with us?\"[457]\n\nfor those in prosperity stand in especial need of friends who shall be\noutspoken to them, and abate their excessive pride. For there are few\nwho are sensible in prosperity, most need to borrow wisdom from others,\nand such considerations as shall keep them lowly when puffed up and\ngiving themselves airs owing to their good fortune. But when the deity\nhas abased them and stripped them of their conceit, there is something\nin their very circumstances to reprove them and bring about a change of\nmind. And so there is no need then of a friendly outspokenness, nor of\nweighty or caustic words, but truly in such reverses \"it is sweet to\nlook into the eyes of a friendly person,\"[458] consoling and cheering\none up: as Xenophon[459] tells us that the sight of Clearchus in battle\nand dangers, and his calm benevolent face, inspired courage in his men\nwhen in peril. But he who uses to a man in adversity too great freedom\nand severity of speech, like a man applying too pungent a remedy to an\ninflamed and angry eye, neither cures him nor abates his pain, but adds\nanger to his grief, and exasperates his mental distress. For example\nanyone well is not at all angry or fierce with a friend, who blames him\nfor his excesses with women and wine, his laziness and taking no\nexercise, his frequent baths, and his unseasonable surfeiting: but to a\nperson ill all this is unsufferable, and even worse than his illness to\nhear, \"All this has happened to you through your intemperance, and\nluxury, your dainty food, and love for women.\" The patient answers, \"How\nunseasonable is all this, good sir! I am making my will, the doctors are\npreparing me a dose of castor and scammony, and you are scolding me and\nplying me with philosophy.\" And thus the affairs of the unfortunate do\nnot admit of outspokenness and a string of Polonius-like saws, but they\nrequire kindness and help. For when children fall down their nurses do\nnot run up to them and scold, but pick them up, and clean them, and tidy\ntheir dress, and afterwards find fault and correct them. The story is\ntold of Demetrius of Phalerum, when an exile from his native country,\nand living a humble and obscure life at Thebes, that he was not pleased\nto see Crates approaching, for he expected to receive from him cynical\noutspokenness and harsh language. But as Crates talked kindly to him,\nand discussed his exile, and pointed out that there was no evil in it,\nor anything that ought to put him about, for he had only got rid of the\nuncertainties and dangers of public life, and at the same time bade him\ntrust in himself and his condition of mind, Demetrius cheered up and\nbecame happier, and said to his friends, \"Out upon all my former\nbusiness and employments, that left me no leisure to know such a man as\nthis!\"\n\n  \"For friendly speech is good to one in grief,\n   While bitter language only suits the fool.\"[460]\n\nThis is the way with generous friends. But the ignoble and low\nflatterers of those in prosperity, as Demosthenes says fractures and\nsprains always give us pain again when the body is not well,[461] adhere\nto them in reverses, as if they were pleased at and enjoyed them. But\nindeed if there be any need of reminding a man of the blunders he\ncommitted through unadvisedly following his own counsel, it is enough to\nsay, \"This was not to my mind, indeed I often tried to dissuade you from\nit.\"[462]\n\nSec. XXIX. In what cases then ought a friend to be vehement, and when ought\nhe to use emphatic freedom of language? When circumstances call upon him\nto check some headlong pleasure or rage or insolence, or to curtail\navarice, or to correct some foolish negligence. Thus Solon spoke out to\nCroesus, who was corrupted and enervated by insecure good fortune,\nbidding him look to the end.[463] Thus Socrates restrained Alcibiades,\nand wrung from him genuine tears by his reproof, and changed his\nheart.[464] Such also was the plain dealing of Cyrus with Cyaxares, and\nof Plato with Dion, for when Dion was most famous and attracted to\nhimself the notice of all men, by the splendour and greatness of his\nexploits, Plato warned him to fear and be on his guard against \"pleasing\nonly himself, for so he would lose all his friends.\"[465] Speusippus\nalso wrote to him not to plume himself on being a great person only with\nlads and women, but to see to it that by adorning Sicily with piety and\njustice and good laws he might make the Academy glorious. On the other\nhand Euctus and Eulaeus, companions of Perseus, in the days of his\nprosperity ingratiated themselves with him, and assented to him in all\nthings, and danced attendance upon him, like all the other courtiers,\nbut when he fled after his defeat by the Romans at Pydna, they attacked\nhim and censured him bitterly, reminding him and upbraiding him in\nregard to everything he had done amiss or neglected to do, till he was\nso greatly exasperated both from grief and rage that he whipped out his\nsword and killed both of them.\n\nSec. XXX. Let so much suffice for general occasions of freedom of speech.\nThere are also particular occasions, which our friends themselves\nfurnish, that one who really cares for his friends will not neglect, but\nmake use of. In some cases a question, or narrative, or the censure or\npraise of similar things in other people, gives as it were the cue for\nfreedom of speech. Thus it is related that Demaratus came to Macedonia\nfrom Corinth at the time when Philip was at variance with his wife and\nson, and when the king asked if the Greeks were at harmony with one\nanother, Demaratus, being his well-wisher and friend, answered, \"It is\ncertainly very rich of you, Philip, inquiring as to concord between the\nAthenians and Peloponnesians, when you don't observe that your own house\nis full of strife and variance.\"[466] Good also was the answer of\nDiogenes, who, when Philip was marching to fight against the Greeks,\nstole into his camp, and was arrested and brought before him, and the\nking not recognizing him asked if he was a spy, \"Certainly,\" replied he,\n\"Philip, I have come to spy out your inconsiderate folly, which makes\nyou, under no compulsion, come here and hazard your kingdom and life on\na moment's[467] cast of the die.\" This was perhaps rather too strong a\nremark.\n\nSec. XXXI. Another suitable time for reproof is when people have been\nabused by others for their faults, and have consequently become humble,\nand abated their pride. The man of tact will ingeniously seize the\noccasion, checking and baffling those that used the abuse, but privately\nspeaking seriously to his friend, and reminding him, that he ought to be\nmore careful if for no other reason than to take off the edge of his\nenemies' satire. He will say, \"How can they open their mouths against\nyou, or what can they urge, if you give up and abandon what you get this\nbad name about?\" Thus pain comes only from abuse, but profit from\nreproof. And some correct their friends more daintily by blaming\nothers; censuring others for what they know are their friends' faults.\nThus my master Ammonius in afternoon school, noticing that some of his\npupils had not dined sufficiently simply, bade one of his freedmen\nscourge his own son, charging him with being unable to get through his\ndinner without vinegar,[468] but in acting thus he had an eye to us, so\nthat this indirect rebuke touched the guilty persons.\n\nSec. XXXII. We must also beware of speaking too freely to a friend in the\ncompany of many people, remembering the well-known remark of Plato. For\nwhen Socrates reproved one of his friends too vehemently in a discussion\nat table, Plato said, \"Would it not have been better to have said this\nprivately?\" Whereupon Socrates replied, \"And you too, sir, would it not\nhave become you to make this remark also privately?\" And Pythagoras\nhaving rebuked one of his pupils somewhat harshly before many people,\nthey say the young fellow went off and hung himself, and from that\nmoment Pythagoras never again rebuked anyone in another's presence. For,\nas in the case of some foul disease, so also in the case of wrong-doing\nwe ought to make the detection and exposure private, and not\nostentatiously public by bringing witnesses and spectators. For it is\nnot the part of a friend but a sophist to seek glory by the ill-fame of\nanother, and to show off in company, like the doctors that perform\nwonderful cures in the theatres as an advertisement.[469] And\nindependently of the insult, which ought not to be an element in any\ncure, we must remember that vice is contentious and obstinate. For it is\nnot merely \"love,\" as Euripides says, that \"if checked becomes more\nvehement,\" but an unsparing rebuke before many people makes every\ninfirmity and vice more impudent. As then Plato[470] urges old men who\nwant to teach the young reverence to act reverently to them first\nthemselves, so among friends a gentle rebuke is gently taken, and a\ncautious and careful approach and mild censure of the wrong-doer\nundermines and destroys vice, and makes its own modesty catching. So\nthat line is most excellent, \"holding his head near, that the others\nmight not hear.\"[471] And most especially indecorous is it to expose a\nhusband in the hearing of his wife, or a father before his children, or\na lover in the presence of the loved one, or a master before his\nscholars. For people are beside themselves with pain and rage if\nreproached before those with whom they desire to be held in good repute.\nAnd I think it was not so much wine that exasperated Alexander with\nClitus, as his seeming to put him down in the presence of many people.\nAnd Aristomenes, the tutor of Ptolemy,[472] because he went up to the\nking and woke him as he was asleep in an audience of some ambassadors,\ngave a handle to the king's flatterers who professed to be indignant on\nhis behalf, and said, \"If after your immense state-labours and many\nvigils you have been overpowered by sleep, he ought to have rebuked you\nprivately, and not put his hands upon you before so many people.\" And\nPtolemy sent for a cup of poison and ordered the poor man to drink it\nup. And Aristophanes said Cleon blamed him for \"railing against the\nstate when strangers were present,\"[473] and so irritating the\nAthenians. We ought therefore to be very much on our guard in relation\nto this point too as well as others, if we wish not to make a display\nand catch the public ear, but to use our freedom of speech for\nbeneficial purposes and to cure vice. Moreover, what Thucydides has\nrepresented the Corinthians saying of themselves, that \"they had a right\nto blame their neighbours,\"[474] is not a bad precept for those to\nremember who intend to use freedom of speech. Lysander, it seems, on one\noccasion said to a Megarian, who was speaking somewhat boldly on behalf\nof Greece among the allies, \"Your words require a state to back\nthem\":[475] similarly every man's freedom of speech requires character\nbehind it, and especially true is this in regard to those who censure\nand correct others. Thus Plato said that his life was a tacit rebuke to\nSpeusippus: and doubtless Xenocrates by his mere presence in the\nschools, and by his earnest look at Polemo, made a changed man of him.\nWhereas a man of levity and bad character, if he ventures to rebuke\nanybody, is likely to hear the line,\n\n  \"He doctors others, all diseased himself.\"[476]\n\nSec. XXXIII. Yet since circumstances frequently call on people who are bad\nthemselves in association with other such to reprove them, the most\nconvenient mode of reproof will be that which contrives to include the\nreprover in the same indictment as the reproved, as in the case of the\nline,\n\n  \"Tydides, how on earth have we forgot\n   Our old impetuous courage?\"[477]\n\nand,\n\n  \"Now are we all not worth one single Hector.\"[478]\n\nIn this mild way did Socrates rebuke young men, as not himself without\nignorance, but one that needed in common with them to prosecute virtue,\nand seek truth. For they gain goodwill and influence, who seem to have\nthe same faults as their friends, and desire to correct themselves as\nwell as them. But he who is high and mighty in setting down another, as\nif he were himself perfect and without any imperfections, unless he be\nof a very advanced age, or has an acknowledged reputation for virtue and\nworth, does no good, but is only regarded as a tiresome bore. And so it\nwas wisely done of Phoenix to relate his own mishaps, how he had meant\nkilling his father, but quickly repented at the thought \"that he would\nbe called by the Achaeans parricide,\"[479] that he might not seem to be\nrebuking Achilles, as one that had himself never suffered from excess of\nrage. For kindness of this sort has great influence, and people yield\nmore to those who seem to be sympathetic and not supercilious. And since\nwe ought not to expose an inflamed eye to a strong light, and a soul a\nprey to the passions cannot bear unmixed reproof and rebuke, one of the\nmost useful remedies will be found to be a slight mixture of praise, as\nin the following lines,\n\n  \"Ye will not sure give up your valiant courage,\n   The best men in the host! I should not care\n   If any coward left the fight, not I;\n   But you to do so cuts me to the heart.\"[480]\n\nAnd,\n\n  \"Where is thy bow, where thy wing'd arrows, Pandarus,\n   Where thy great fame, which no one here can match?\"[481]\n\nSuch language again plainly cheers very much those that are down as,\n\n  \"Where now is Oedipus, and his famous riddles?\"[482]\n\nand,\n\n  \"Does much-enduring Hercules say this?\"[483]\n\nFor not only does it soften the harsh imperiousness of censure, but\nalso, by reminding a man of former noble deeds, implants a desire to\nemulate his former self in the person who is ashamed of what is low, and\nmakes himself his own exemplar for better things. But if we make a\ncomparison between him and other men, as his contemporaries, his\nfellow-citizens, or his relations, then the contentious spirit inherent\nin vice is vexed and exasperated, and is often apt to chime in angrily,\n\"Why don't you go off to my betters then, and leave off bothering me?\"\nWe must therefore be on our guard against praising others, when we are\nrebuking a man, unless indeed it be their parents, as Agamemnon says in\nHomer,\n\n  \"Little like Tydeus is his father's son!\"[484]\n\nor as Odysseus in the play called \"The Scyrians,\"[485]\n\n  \"Dost thou card wool, and thus the lustre smirch\n   Of thy illustrious sire, thy noble race?\"\n\nSec. XXXIV. But it is by no means fitting when rebuked to rebuke back, and\nwhen spoken to plainly to answer back, for that soon kindles a flame and\ncauses dissension; and generally speaking such altercation will not look\nso much like a retort as an inability to bear freedom of speech. It is\nbetter therefore to listen patiently to a friend's rebuke, for if he\nshould afterwards do wrong himself and so need rebuke, he has set you\nthe example of freedom of speech. For being reminded without any malice,\nthat he himself has not been accustomed to spare his friends when they\nhave done wrong, but to convince them and show them their fault, he will\nbe the more inclined to yield and give himself up to correction, as it\nwill seem a return of goodwill and kindness rather than scolding or\nrage.\n\nSec. XXXV. Moreover, as Thucydides says \"he is well advised who [only]\nincurs envy in the most important matters,\"[486] so the friend ought\nonly to take upon himself the unpleasant duty of reproof in grave and\nmomentous cases. For if he is always in a fret and a fume, and rates his\nacquaintances more like a tutor than a friend, his rebuke will be blunt\nand ineffective in cases of the highest importance, and he will resemble\na doctor who dispenses some sharp and bitter, but important and costly,\ndrug in trifling cases of common occurrence, where it was not at all\nneeded, and so will lose all the advantages that might come from a\njudicious use of freedom of speech. He will therefore be very much on\nhis guard against continual fault-finding, and if his friend is always\npettifogging about minute matters, and is needlessly querulous, it will\ngive him a handle against him in more important shortcomings. Philotimus\nthe doctor, when a patient who had abscesses on his liver showed him his\nsore finger, said to him, \"My friend, it is not the whitlow that\nmatters.\"[487] So an opportunity sometimes offers itself to a friend to\nsay to a man, who is always finding fault on small and trivial points,\n\"Why are we always discussing mere child's play, tippling,[488] and\ntrifles? Let such a one, my dear sir, send away his mistress, or give up\nplaying at dice, he will then be in my opinion in all respects an\nexcellent fellow.\" For he who receives pardon on small matters is\ncontent that his friend should rebuke him on matters of more moment: but\nthe man who is ever on the scold, everywhere sour and glum, knowing and\nprying into everything, is scarcely tolerable to his children or\nbrothers, and insufferable to his slaves.\n\nSec. XXXVI. But since \"neither,\" to use the words of Euripides, \"do all\ntroubles proceed only from old age,\"[489] nor from the stupidity of our\nfriends, we ought to observe not only the shortcomings but also the good\npoints of our friends, aye, by Zeus, and to be ready to praise them\nfirst, and only censure them afterwards. For as iron receives its\nconsistency and temper by first being submitted to fire and so made soft\nand then dipped into cold water, so when friends have been first warmed\nand melted with praises we can afterwards use gentle remonstrance, which\nhas a similar effect to that of dipping in the case of the metal. For an\nopportunity will offer itself to say, \"Are those actions worthy to be\ncompared with these? Do you see what fruits virtue yields? These are the\nthings we your friends ask of you, these become you, for these you are\ndesigned by nature; but all that other kind of conduct we must reject\nwith abhorrence, 'cast it away on a mountain, or throw it into the\nroaring sea.'\"[490] For as a clever doctor would prefer to cure the\nillness of his patient by sleep and diet rather than by castor or\nscammony, so a kind friend and good father or teacher delight to use\npraise rather than blame to correct the character. For nothing makes\nrebuke less painful or more beneficial than to refrain from anger, and\nto inveigh against wrong-doing mildly and kindly. And so we ought not\nsharply to drive home the guilt of those who deny it, or prevent their\nmaking their defence, but even contrive to furnish them with specious\nexcuses, and if they seem reluctant to give a bad motive for their\naction we ought ourselves to find for them a better, as Hector did for\nhis brother Paris,\n\n  \"Unhappy man, thy anger was not good,\"[491]\n\nsuggesting that his absconding from the battle was not running away or\ncowardice, but only anger. And Nestor says to Agamemnon,\n\n  \"You only yielded to your lofty passion.\"[492]\n\nFor it has, I think, a better moral tendency to say \"You forgot,\" or\n\"You did it inadvertently,\" than to say \"You acted unfairly,\" or \"You\nbehaved shamefully:\" as also \"Don't contend with your brother,\" than\n\"Don't envy your brother;\" and \"Avoid the woman who is your ruin,\" than\n\"Stop ruining the woman.\" Such is the language employed in rebuke that\ndesires to reform and not to wound; that rebuke which looks merely at\nthe effect to be produced acts on another principle. For when it is\nnecessary to stop people on the verge of wrong-doing, or to check some\nviolent and irregular impulse, or if we wish to rouse and infuse vigour\nin those who prosecute virtue only feebly and languidly, we may then\nassign strange and unbecoming motives for their behaviour. As Odysseus\nin Sophocles' play,[493] striving to rouse Achilles, says he is not\nangry about his supper,[494] but \"that he is afraid now that he looks\nupon the walls of Troy,\" and when Achilles was vexed at this, and talked\nof sailing home again, he said,\n\n  \"I know what 'tis you shun: 'tis not ill fame:\n   But Hector's near, it is not safe to beard him.\"\n\nThus by frightening the high-spirited and courageous man by the\nimputation of cowardice, and the sober and orderly man by that of\nlicentiousness, and the liberal and munificent man by that of meanness\nand avarice, people urge them on to what is good, and deter them from\nwhat is bad, showing moderation in cases past remedy, and exhibiting in\ntheir freedom of speech more sorrow and sympathy than fault-finding; but\nin the prevention of wrong-doing and in earnest fighting against the\npassions they are vehement and inexorable and assiduous: for that is the\ntime for downright plainness and truth. Besides we see that enemies\ncensure one another for what they have done amiss, as Diogenes\nsaid,[495] he who wished to lead a good life ought to have good friends\nor red-hot enemies, for the former told you what was right, and the\nlatter blamed you if you did what was wrong. But it is better to be on\nour guard against wrong actions, through listening to the persuasion of\nthose that advise us well, than to repent, after we have done wrong, in\nconsequence of the reproaches of our enemies. And so we ought to employ\ntact in our freedom of speech, as it is the greatest and most powerful\nremedy in friendship, and always needs a well-chosen occasion, and\nmoderation in applying it.\n\nSec. XXXVII. Since then, as I have said before, freedom of speech is often\npainful to the person who is to receive benefit from it, we must imitate\nthe surgeons, who, when they have performed an operation, do not leave\nthe suffering part to pain and smart, but bathe and foment it; so those\nwho do their rebuking daintily run[496] off after paining and smarting,\nand by different dealing and kind words soothe and mollify them, as\nstatuaries smooth and polish images which have been broken or chipped.\nBut he that is broken and wounded by rebuke, if he is left sullen and\nswelling with rage and off his equilibrium, is henceforth hard to win\nback or talk over. And so people who reprove ought to be especially\ncareful on this point, and not to leave them too soon, nor break off\ntheir conversation and intercourse with their acquaintances at the\nexasperating and painful stage.\n\n    [348] Plato, \"Laws,\" v. p. 731 D, E.\n\n    [349] \"Laws,\" v. p. 730 C.\n\n    [350] Inscribed in the vestibule of the temple of Apollo\n    at Delphi. See Pausanias, x. 24.\n\n    [351] Used here apparently proverbially for poverty or\n    low position in life.\n\n    [352] Wyttenbach well compares Cicero, \"De Amicitia,\"\n    xviii.: \"Accedat huc suavitas quaedam oportet sermonum\n    atque morum, haudquaquam mediocre condimentum amicitiae.\n    Tristitia autem et in omni re severitas, habet illa\n    quidem gravitatem: sed amicitia remissior esse debet, et\n    liberior, et dulcior, et ad omnem comitatem\n    facilitatemque proclivior.\"\n\n    [353] Hesiod, \"Theogony,\" 64.\n\n    [354] Euripides, \"Ion,\" 732.\n\n    [355] Our author assigns this saying to Prodicus, \"De\n    Sanitate Praecepta,\" Sec. viii. But to Evenus, \"Quaest.\n    Conviv.\" Lib. vii. Prooemium, and \"Platonicae\n    Quaestiones,\" x. Sec. iii.\n\n    [356] As was usual. See Homer, \"Odyssey,\" i. 146. Cf.\n    Plautus, \"Persa,\" v. iii. 16: \"Hoc age, accumbe: hunc\n    diem suavem meum natalem agitemus amoenum: date aquam\n    manibus: apponite mensam.\"\n\n    [357] From a play of Eupolis called \"The Flatterers.\"\n    Cf. Terence, \"Eunuchus,\" 489-491.\n\n    [358] See Athenaeus, 256 D. Compare also Valerius Maximus,\n    ix. 1.\n\n    [359] \"Videatur Casaubonus ad Athenaeum, vi. p. 243\n    A.\"--_Wyttenbach._\n\n    [360] \"Republic,\" p. 361 A.\n\n    [361] See Herodotus, iii. 78.\n\n    [362] See Erasmus, \"Adagia,\" p. 1883.\n\n    [363] \"Proverbium etiam a Cicerone laudatum 'De\n    Amicitia,' cap. vi.: Itaque non aqua, non igne, ut\n    aiunt, pluribus locis utimur, quam amicitia. Notavit\n    etiam Erasmus 'Adag.' p. 112.\"--_Wyttenbach._\n\n    [364] Compare Sallust, \"De Catilinae Conjuratione,\" cap.\n    xx.: \"Nam idem velle atque idem nolle, ea demum firma\n    amicitia est.\"\n\n    [365] \"Proverbiale, quo utitur Plutarchus in Alcibiade,\n    p. 203 D. Iambus Tragici esse videtur, ad Neoptolemum\n    dictus.\"--_Wyttenbach._\n\n    [366] As the polypus, or chameleon.\n\n    [367] Plato, \"Phaedrus,\" p. 239 D.\n\n    [368] Wyttenbach compares Juvenal, iii. 100-108.\n\n    [369] See my note \"On Abundance of Friends,\" Sec. ix.\n    Wyttenbach well points out the felicity of the\n    expression here, \"siquidem parasitus est [Greek: aoikos\n    kai anestios].\"\n\n    [370] Euripides, \"Hippolytus,\" 219, 218. Cf. Ovid,\n    \"Heroides,\" iv. 41, 42.\n\n    [371] Compare \"How one may be aware of one's progress in\n    virtue,\" Sec. x. Cf. also Horace, \"Satires,\" ii. iii. 35;\n    Quintilian, xi. 1.\n\n    [372] \"Odyssey,\" xxii. 1.\n\n    [373] The demagogue is a kind of flatterer. See\n    Aristotle, \"Pol.\" iv. 4.\n\n    [374] Cf. Aristophanes, \"Acharnians,\" 153, [Greek: hoper\n    machimotaton thrakon ethnos].\n\n    [375] Plato was somewhat of a traveller, he three times\n    visited Syracuse, and also travelled in Egypt.\n\n    [376] As to the polypus, see \"On Abundance of Friends,\"\n    Sec. ix.\n\n    [377] As \"Fumum et opes _strepitumque_ Romae.\"--Horace,\n    \"Odes,\" iii. 29. 12.\n\n    [378] Homer, \"Odyssey,\" xvi. 181.\n\n    [379] Sophocles, \"Antigone,\" 523.\n\n    [380] As to these traits in Plato and Aristotle, compare\n    \"De Audiendis Poetis,\" Sec. viii. And as to Alexander,\n    Plutarch tells us in his Life that he used to hold his\n    head a little to the left, \"Life,\" p. 666 B. See also\n    \"De Alexandri Fortuna aut Virtute,\" Sec. ii.\n\n    [381] \"De Chamaeleonte Aristoteles 'Hist. Animal.' i. 11;\n    'Part. Animal.' iv. 11; Theophrastus Eclog. ap. Photium\n    edit. Aristot. Sylburg. T. viii. p. 329: [Greek:\n    metaballei de ho chamaileon eis panta ta chromata; plen\n    ten eis to leukon kai to eruthron ou dechetai metabolen.]\n    Similiter Plinius 'Hist. Nat.' viii. 51.\"--_Wyttenbach._\n\n    [382] See Athenaeus, 249 F; 435 E.\n\n    [383] Cf. Juv. iii. 113; \"Scire volunt secreta domus,\n    atque inde timeri.\"\n\n    [384] Cf. Menander apud Stob. p. 437: [Greek: Ta deuter\n    aiei ten gynaika dei legein, Ten d' egemonian ton olon\n    ton andr' echein].\n\n    [385] As Lord Stowell used to say that \"dinners\n    lubricated business.\"\n\n    [386] Homer, \"Iliad,\" xi. 643.\n\n    [387] Homer, \"Odyssey,\" iv. 178, 179.\n\n    [388] Perhaps the poley-germander. See Pliny, \"Nat.\n    Hist,\" xxi. 84. The line is from Nicander Theriac. 64.\n\n    [389] \"Iliad,\" viii. 281, 282.\n\n    [390] \"Iliad,\" x. 243.\n\n    [391] \"Iliad,\" vii. 109, 110.\n\n    [392] Xenophon, \"Agesilaus,\" xi. 5. p. 673 C.\n\n    [393] To filch the grain from the bin or granary would\n    not of course be so important a theft as to steal the\n    seed-stock preserved for sowing. So probably Cato, \"De\n    Re Rustica,\" v. Sec. iv.: \"Segetem ne defrudet,\" sc.\n    villicus.\n\n    [394] Thucydides, iii. 82.\n\n    [395] Plato, \"Republic,\" v. p. 474 E. Compare also\n    Lucretius, iv. 1160-1170; Horace, \"Satires,\" i. 3. 38\n    sq.\n\n    [396] This Ptolemy was a votary of Cybele, and a\n    spiritual ancestor of General Booth. The worship of\n    Cybele is well described by Lucretius, ii. 598-643.\n\n    [397] This was Ptolemy Auletes, as the former was\n    Ptolemy Philopator.\n\n    [398] See Suetonius, \"Nero,\" ch. 21.\n\n    [399] \"Plerumque _minuta voce\n    cantillare_.\"--_Wyttenbach._ What Milton would have\n    called \"a lean and flashy song.\"\n\n    [400] Naso suspendit adunco, as Horace, \"Sat.\" i. 6. 5.\n\n    [401] See Athenaeus, p. 434 C.\n\n    [402] As Gnatho in Terence, \"Eunuch.\" 496-498.\n\n    [403] Reading [Greek: Helon], as Courier, Hercher.\n\n    [404] \"Iliad,\" x. 249. They are words of Odysseus.\n\n    [405] This was carrying flattery rather far.\n    \"Mithridatis medicinae scientia multis memorata\n    veterum.\"--_Wyttenbach._\n\n    [406] Euripides, \"Alcestis,\" 1159.\n\n    [407] Our author gives this definition to Simonides, \"De\n    Gloria Atheniensium,\" Sec. iii.\n\n    [408] So our author again, \"On Contentedness of Mind,\" Sec.\n    xii.\n\n    [409] See Herodotus, i. 30, 33; Juvenal, x. 274, 275;\n    and Pausanias, ii. 20.\n\n    [410] \"Nobile Stoae Paradoxum. Cicero Fin. iii. 22, ex\n    persona Catonis. Horatius ridet Epistol. i. 1. 106-108.\n    Ad summam sapiens uno minor est Jove: dives, Liber,\n    honoratus, pulcher, rex denique regum; Praecipue sanus,\n    nisi quum pituita molesta est.\"--_Wyttenbach._\n\n    [411] See also \"On Contentedness of Mind,\" Sec. xii.\n\n    [412] Homer, \"Iliad,\" xvi. 141. See the context also\n    from 130 sq.\n\n    [413] Our author has used this illustration again in\n    \"Phocion,\" p. 742 B.\n\n    [414] Namely in Sec. xxvii. where [Greek: parrhesia] is\n    discussed.\n\n    [415] Contrary to the severe training he ought to\n    undergo, well expressed by Horace, \"De Arte Poetica,\"\n    412-414.\n\n    [416] Reading with Hercher [Greek: apotympanizontos kai\n    streblountos]. This was Ptolemy Physcon.\n\n    [417] \"Unus ex Alexandri adulatoribus: memoratus Curtio\n    viii. 5, 6.\"--_Wyttenbach._\n\n    [418] A common proverb among the ancients. See \"Conjugal\n    Precepts,\" Sec. xl.; Erasmus, \"Adagia,\" pp. 1222, 1838.\n\n    [419] A line out of AEschylus' \"Myrmidons.\" Quoted again\n    by our author, \"Of Love,\" Sec. V.\n\n    [420] Cleopatra.\n\n    [421] Homer, \"Odyssey,\" x. 329. They are the words of\n    Circe to Odysseus. But the line was suspected even by\n    old grammarians, and is put in brackets in modern\n    editions of the \"Odyssey.\"\n\n    [422] See Lucretius, iv. 1079-1085.\n\n    [423] So Pliny, \"Hist. Nat.\" xxv. 95: \"Remedio est\n    (cicutae), priusquam perveniat ad vitalia, vini natura\n    excalfactoria: sed in vino pota irremediabilis\n    existimatur.\"\n\n    [424] Assigned to Pittacus by our author, \"Septem\n    Sapientum Convivium,\" Sec. ii.\n\n    [425] So Wyttenbach, who reads [Greek: enstaseis], and\n    translates, \"et libertate loquendi in nobis\n    reprehendendis utitur, quando nos cupiditatibus\n    morbisque animi nostri non indulgere, sed resistere,\n    volumus.\"\n\n    [426] \"Phoenissae,\" 469-472.\n\n    [427] Like Juvenal's \"Graeculus esuriens in caelum,\n    jusseris, ibit.\"--Juvenal, iii, 78.\n\n    [428] These are two successive lines found three times\n    in Homer, \"Iliad,\" xiv. 195, 196; xviii. 426, 427;\n    \"Odyssey,\" v. 89, 90. The two lines are in each case\n    spoken by one person.\n\n    [429] Probably lines from \"The Flatterer\" of Menander.\n\n    [430] From the \"Ino\" of Euripides.\n\n    [431] From the \"Erechtheus\" of Euripides.\n\n    [432] We know from Athenaeus, p. 420 D, that Apelles and\n    Arcesilaus were friends.\n\n    [433] An allusion to Hesiod, \"Works and Days,\" 235. Cf.\n    Horace, \"Odes,\" iv. 5. 23.\n\n    [434] See the beautiful story of Baucis and Philemon,\n    Ovid, \"Metamorphoses,\" viii. 626-724: \"Cura pii dis\n    sunt, et qui coluere coluntur.\"\n\n    [435] Compare Terence, \"Andria,\" 43, 44. So too Seneca,\n    \"De Beneficiis,\" ii. 10: \"Haec enim beneficii inter duos\n    lex est: alter statim oblivisci debet dati, alter\n    accepti nunquam. Lacerat animum et premit frequens\n    meritorum commemoratio.\"\n\n    [436] A similar story about the Samians and\n    Lacedaemonians is told by Aristotle, \"Oeconom.\" ii. 9.\n\n    [437] A line from Euripides, \"Iphigenia in Aulis,\" 407.\n\n    [438] Also in \"Conjugal Precepts,\" Sec. xxix.\n\n    [439] See Persius, iii. 21, 22, with Jahn's Note.\n\n    [440] See \"On Love,\" Sec. xxi.\n\n    [441] \"Auri plumbique oppositio fere proverbialis est.\n    Petronius, 'Satyricon,' 43. Plane fortunae filius: in\n    manu illius plumbum aureum fiebat.\"--_Wyttenbach._ The\n    passage about the Lydian chariot is said to be by Pindar\n    in our author, \"Nicias,\" p. 523 D.\n\n    [442] Wyttenbach compares Seneca, \"Epist.\" cxxiii. p.\n    495: \"Horum sermo multum nocet: nam etiamsi non statim\n    officit, semina in animo relinquit, sequiturque nos\n    etiam cum ab illis discesserimus, resurrecturum postea\n    malum.\"\n\n    [443] Compare Cicero, \"De Amicitia,\" xxvi.: \"Assentatio,\n    quamvis perniciosa sit, nocere tamen nemini potest, nisi\n    ei, qui eam recipit atque ea delectatur. Ita fit, ut is\n    assentatoribus patefaciat aures suas maxime, qui ipse\n    sibi assentetur et se maxime ipse delectet.\"\n\n    [444] Compare Sec. i.\n\n    [445] Compare our Author, \"Quaestiones Convivalium,\"\n    viii. p. 717 F.\n\n    [446] So Horace, \"Satires,\" i. 2, 24: \"Dum vitant stulti\n    vitia in contraria currunt.\"\n\n    [447] Homer, \"Iliad,\" xiv. 84, 85.\n\n    [448] Compare Cicero, \"De Officiis,\" i. 25: \"Omnis autem\n    animadversio et castigatio contumelia vacare debet:\n    neque ad ejus, qui punitur aliquem aut verbis fatigat,\n    sed ad reipublicae utilitatem referri.\"\n\n    [449] \"Iliad,\" xi. 654.\n\n    [450] \"Iliad,\" xvi. 33-35.\n\n    [451] Cf. Plutarch, \"Phocion,\" p. 746 D.\n\n    [452] A proverb of persons on the brink of destruction.\n    Wells among the ancients were uncovered.\n\n    [453] \"Iliad,\" ii. 215, of Thersites. As to Theagenes,\n    see Seneca, \"De Ira,\" ii. 23.\n\n    [454] Literally, \"brings a cloud over fair weather.\"\n\n    [455] The MSS. have Lydian. Lysian Dionysus is also\n    found in Pausanias, ix. 16. Lyaeus is suggested by\n    Wyttenbach, and read by Hercher. Lysius or Lyaeus will\n    both be connected with [Greek: luo], and so refer to\n    Dionysus as the god that looses or frees us from care.\n    See Horace, \"Epodes,\" ix. 37, 38.\n\n    [456] Compare Juvenal, iii. 73, 74: \"Sermo Promptus et\n    Isaeo torrentior.\"\n\n    [457] \"Orestes,\" 667.\n\n    [458] Euripides, \"Ion,\" 732.\n\n    [459] \"Anabasis,\" ii. 6, 11.\n\n    [460] Perhaps by Euripides.\n\n    [461] \"Olynth.\" ii. p. 8 C; \"Pro Corona,\" 341 C.\n\n    [462] Homer, \"Iliad,\" ix. 108, 109. They are the words\n    of Nestor to Agamemnon.\n\n    [463] See Herodotus, i. 30-32.\n\n    [464] See Plato's \"Symposium,\" p. 215 E.\n\n    [465] See Plato, \"Epist.\" iv. p. 321 B.\n\n    [466] See our author, \"Apophthegmata,\" p. 179 C.\n\n    [467] Compare Horace, \"Satires,\" i. 1. 7, 8: \"Quid enim,\n    concurritur: horae Momento cita mors venit aut victoria\n    laeta.\"\n\n    [468] And so being dainty. See Athenaeus, ii. ch. 76.\n\n    [469] We see from this and other places that the\n    mountebanks and quacks of the Middle Ages and later\n    times existed also among the ancients. Human nature in\n    its great leading features is ever the same. \"Omne\n    ignotum pro magnifico est.\"\n\n    [470] \"Laws,\" p. 729 C.\n\n    [471] Homer, \"Odyssey,\" i. 157; iv. 70; xvii. 592.\n\n    [472] Ptolemy V., Epiphanes. The circumstances are\n    related by Polybius, xv. 29; xvii. 35.\n\n    [473] See \"Acharnians,\" 501, 502.\n\n    [474] Thucydides, i. 70: [Greek: kai hama, eiper tines\n    kai alloi, nomizomen axioi einai tois pelas psogon\n    epenenkein].\n\n    [475] See our Author, \"Apophthegmata,\" p. 190 E.\n\n    [476] A line of Euripides, quoted again in \"How a Man\n    may be benefited by his Enemies,\" Sec. iv.\n\n    [477] Homer, \"Iliad,\" xi. 313.\n\n    [478] Do. viii. 234, 235.\n\n    [479] Do. ix. 461.\n\n    [480] \"Iliad,\" xiii. 116-119.\n\n    [481] Do. v. 171, 172.\n\n    [482] Euripides, \"Phoenissae,\" 1688.\n\n    [483] Euripides, \"Hercules Furens,\" 1250.\n\n    [484] \"Iliad,\" v. 800. Athene is the speaker.\n\n    [485] A play by Sophocles, now only in fragments,\n    relating the life of Achilles in the island of Scyros,\n    the scene of his amour with Deidamia, the daughter of\n    Lycomedes, by whom he became the father of Pyrrhus.\n\n    [486] Thucydides, ii. 64. Quoted again in \"On Shyness,\"\n    Sec. xviii.\n\n    [487] See also \"De Audiendo,\" Sec. x.\n\n    [488] [Greek: potous] comes in rather curiously here.\n    Can any other word lurk under it?\n\n    [489] \"Phoenissae,\" 528, 529.\n\n    [490] Homer, \"Iliad,\" vi. 347.\n\n    [491] Do. vi. 326.\n\n    [492] Homer, \"Iliad,\" ix. 109, 110.\n\n    [493] In Dindorf's \"Poetae Scenici Graeci,\" Fragment 152.\n\n    [494] As it is not quite clear why Achilles should have\n    been angry about his supper, [Greek: dia to deipnon],\n    apropos of the context, Wyttenbach ingeniously suggests,\n    as this lost play of Sophocles was called [Greek: Syn\n    deipnon], that Plutarch may have written [Greek: en to\n    Deipno].\n\n    [495] Compare \"How One may be aware of one's Progress in\n    Virtue,\" Sec. xi.\n\n    [496] \"Ductum e proverbiali dictione [Greek: balonta\n    ekpheugein], emisso telo aufugere.\"--_Wyttenbach._\n\n\n\n\nHOW A MAN MAY BE BENEFITED BY\nHIS ENEMIES.\n\n\nSec. I. I am well aware, Cornelius Pulcher, that you prefer the mildest\nmanners in public life, by which you can be at once most useful to the\ncommunity, and most agreeable in private life to those who have any\ndealings with you. But since it is difficult to find any region without\nwild beasts, though it is related of Crete;[497] and hitherto there has\nbeen no state that has not suffered from envy, rivalry, and strife, the\nmost fruitful seeds of hostility; (for, even if nothing else does, our\nfriendships involve us in enmities, as Chilo[498] the wise man\nperceived, who asked the man who told him he had no enemy, whether he\nhad a friend either), it seems to me that a public man ought not only to\nexamine the whole question of enemies in its various ramifications, but\nalso to listen to the serious remark of Xenophon,[499] that a sensible\nman will receive profit even from his enemies. The ideas therefore that\nlately occurred to me to deliver, I have now put together nearly in the\nidentical words and send them to you, with the exception of some matter\nalso in \"Political Precepts,\"[500] a treatise which I have often noticed\nin your hands.\n\nSec. II. People in old times were well satisfied if they were not injured\nby strange and wild beasts, and that was the only motive of their fights\nwith them, but those of later days have by now learnt to make use of\nthem, for they feed on their flesh, and clothe themselves with their\nwool, and make medical use of their gall and beestings, and turn their\nhides into shields, so that we might reasonably fear, if beasts failed\nman, that his life would become brutish, and wild, and void of\nresources. Similarly since all others are satisfied with not being\ninjured by their enemies, but the sensible will also (as Xenophon says)\nget profit out of them, we must not be incredulous, but seek a method\nand plan how to obtain this advantage, seeing that life without an enemy\nis impossible. The husbandman cannot cultivate every tree, nor can the\nhunter tame every kind of animal, so both seek means to derive profit\naccording to their several necessities, the one from his barren trees,\nthe other from his wild animals. Sea-water also is undrinkable and\nbrackish, but it feeds fish, and is a sort of vehicle to convey and\ntransport travellers anywhere. The Satyr, when he saw fire for the first\ntime, wished to kiss it and embrace it, but Prometheus warned him,\n\n  \"Goat, thou wilt surely mourn thy loss of beard.\"[501]\n\nFor fire burns whoever touches it, but it also gives light and warmth,\nand is an instrument of art to all those who know how to use it.[502]\nConsider also in the case of the enemy, if he is in other respects\ninjurious and intractable, he somehow or other gives us a handle to make\nuse of him by, and so is serviceable. And many things are unpleasant and\ndetestable and antagonistic to those to whom they happen, but you must\nhave noticed that some use even illnesses as a period of rest for the\nbody, and others by excessive toil have strengthened and trained their\nbodily vigour, and some have made exile and the loss of money a passage\nto leisure and philosophy, as did Diogenes and Crates. And Zeno, when he\nheard of the wreck of the ship which contained all his property, said,\n\"Thou hast done well, Fortune, to confine me to my threadbare\ncloak.\"[503]\n\nFor as those animals that have the strongest and healthiest stomachs eat\nand digest serpents and scorpions, and some even feed on stones and\nshells, which they convert into nourishment by the strength and heat of\ntheir stomachs, while fastidious people out of health almost vomit if\noffered bread and wine, so foolish people spoil even their friendships,\nwhile the wise know how to turn to account even their enmities.\n\nSec. III. In the first place then it seems to me that what is most\ninjurious in enmity may become most useful to those that pay attention\nto it? To what do I refer? Why, to the way in which your enemy ever wide\nawake pries into all your affairs, and analyzes your whole life, trying\nto get a handle against you somewhere, able not only to look through a\ntree, like Lynceus,[504] or through stones and shells, but through your\nfriend and domestic and every intimate acquaintance, as far as possible\ndetecting your doings, and digging and ferreting into your designs. For\nour friends are ill and often die without our knowing anything about it\nthrough our delay and carelessness, but we almost pry into even the\ndreams of our enemies; and our enemy knows even more than we do\nourselves of our diseases and debts and differences with our wives.[505]\nBut they pay most attention to our faults and hunt them out: and as\nvultures follow the scent of putrid carcases, and cannot perceive sound\nand wholesome ones, so the diseases and vices and crimes of life attract\nthe enemy, and on these those that hate us pounce, these they attack and\ntear to pieces. Is not this an advantage to us? Certainly it is. For it\nteaches us to live warily and be on our guard, and neither to do or say\nanything carelessly or without circumspection, but ever to be vigilant\nby careful mode of living that we give no handle to an enemy. For the\ncautiousness that thus represses the passions and follows reason\nimplants a care and determination to live well and without reproach. For\nas those states that have been sobered by wars with their neighbours and\ncontinual campaigns love the blessings of order and peace, so those\npeople who are compelled to lead a sober life owing to their enemies,\nand to be on their guard against carelessness and negligence, and to do\neverything with an eye to utility, imperceptibly glide into a faultless\nmode of life, and tone down their character, even without requiring much\nassistance from precepts. For those who always remember the line,\n\n  \"Ah! how would Priam and his sons rejoice,\"[506]\n\nare by it diverted from and learn to shun all such things as their\nenemies would rejoice and laugh at. Again we see actors[507] and singers\non the stage oftentimes slack and remiss, and not taking sufficient\npains about their performances in the theatres when they have it all to\nthemselves; but when there is a competition and contest with others,\nthey not only wake up but tune their instruments, and adjust their\nchords, and play on the flute with more care. Similarly whoever knows\nthat his enemy is antagonistic to his life and character, pays more\nattention to himself, and watches his behaviour more carefully, and\nregulates his life. For it is peculiar to vice to be more afraid of\nenemies than friends in regard to our faults. And so Nasica, when some\nexpressed their opinion that the Roman Republic was now secure, since\nCarthage was rased to the ground and Achaia reduced to slavery, said,\n\"Nay rather we are now in a critical position, since we have none left\nto fear or respect.\"\n\nSec. IV. Consider also that very philosophical and witty answer of Diogenes\nto the man who asked, \"How shall I avenge myself on my enemy?\" \"By\nbecoming a good and honest man.\"[508] Some people are terribly put about\nif they see their enemies' horses in a good condition, or hear their\ndogs praised; if they see their farm well-tilled, their garden\nwell-kept, they groan aloud. What a state think you then they would be\nin, if you were to exhibit yourself as a just man, sensible and good, in\nwords excellent, in deeds pure, in manner of life decorous, \"reaping\nfruit from the deep soil of the soul, where good counsels grow.\"[509]\nPindar says[510] \"those that are conquered are reduced to complete\nsilence:\" but not absolutely, not all men, only those that see they are\noutdone by their enemies in industry, in goodness, in magnanimity, in\nhumanity, in kindnesses; these, as Demosthenes says, \"stop the tongue,\nblock up the mouth, choke people, and make them silent.\"[511]\n\n  \"Be better than the bad: 'tis in your power.\"[512]\n\nIf you wish to vex the man who hates you, do not abuse him by calling\nhim a pathick, or effeminate, or intemperate, or a low fellow, or\nilliberal; but be yourself a man, and temperate, and truthful, and kind\nand just in all your dealings with those you come across. But if you are\ntempted to use abuse, mind that you yourself are very far from what you\nabuse him for, dive down into your own soul, look for any rottenness in\nyourself, lest someone suggest to you the line of the tragedian,\n\n  \"You doctor others, all diseased yourself.\"[513]\n\nIf you say your enemy is uneducated, increase your own love of learning\nand industry; if you call him coward, stir up the more your own spirit\nand manliness; and if you say he is wanton and licentious, erase from\nyour own soul any secret trace of the love of pleasure. For nothing is\nmore disgraceful or more unpleasant than slander that recoils on the\nperson who sets it in motion; for as the reflection of light seems most\nto injure weak eyes, so does censure when it recoils on the censurer,\nand is borne out by the facts. For as the north-east wind attracts\nclouds, so does a bad life draw upon itself rebukes.\n\nSec. V. Whenever Plato was in company with people who behaved in an\nunseemly manner, he used to say to himself, \"Am I such a person as\nthis?\"[514] So he that censures another man's life, if he straightway\nexamines and mends his own, directing and turning it into the contrary\ndirection, will get some advantage from his censure, which will be\notherwise idle and unprofitable. Most people laugh if a bald-pate or\nhump-back jeer and mock at others who are so too: it is quite as\nridiculous to jeer and mock if one lies open to retort oneself, as Leo\nof Byzantium showed in his answer to the hump-back who jeered at him for\nweakness of eyes, \"You twit me with an infirmity natural to man, while\nyou yourself carry your Nemesis on your back.\"[515] And so do not abuse\nanother as an adulterer, if you yourself are mad after boys: nor as a\nspendthrift, if you yourself are niggardly. Alcmaeon said to Adrastus,\n\"You are near kinsman to a woman that slew her husband.\" What was his\nreply? He retaliated on him with the appropriate retort, \"But you killed\nwith your own hand the mother that bore you.\"[516] And Domitius said to\nCrassus, \"Did you not weep for the lamprey that was bred in your\nfishpond, and died?\" To which Crassus replied, \"Did you weep, when you\nburied your three wives?\" He therefore that intends to abuse others must\nnot be witty and noisy and impudent, but a man that does not lie open to\ncounter-abuse and retort, for the god seems to have enjoined upon no one\nthe precept \"Know thyself\" so much as on the person who is censorious,\nto prevent people saying just what they please, and hearing what don't\nplease them. For such a one is wont, as Sophocles[517] says, \"idly\nletting his tongue flow, to hear against his will, what he willingly\nsays ill of others.\"\n\nSec. VI. This use and advantage then there is in abusing one's enemy, and\nno less arises from being abused and ill-spoken of oneself by one's\nenemies. And so Antisthenes[518] said well that those who wish to lead a\ngood life ought to have genuine friends or red-hot enemies; for the\nformer deterred you from what was wrong by reproof, the latter by abuse.\nBut since friendship has nowadays become very mealy-mouthed in freedom\nof speech, voluble in flattery and silent in rebuke, we can only hear\nthe truth from our enemies. For as Telephus[519] having no surgeon of\nhis own, submitted his wound to be cured by his enemy's spear, so those\nwho cannot procure friendly rebuke must content themselves with the\ncensure of an enemy that hates them, reprehending and castigating their\nvices, and regard not the animus of the person, but only his matter. For\nas he who intended to kill the Thessalian Prometheus[520] only stabbed a\ntumour, and so lanced it that the man's life was saved, and he was rid\nof the tumour by its bursting, so oftentimes abuse, suddenly thrust on a\nman in anger or hatred, has cured some disease in his soul which he was\nignorant of or neglected. But most people when they are abused do not\nconsider whether the abuse really belongs to them properly, but look\nround to see what abuse they can heap on the abuser, and, as wrestlers\nget smothered with the dust of the arena, do not wipe off the abuse\nhurled at themselves, but bespatter others, and at last get on both\nsides grimy and discoloured. But if anyone gets a bad name from an\nenemy, he ought to clear himself of the imputation even more than he\nwould remove any stain on his clothes that was pointed out to him; and\nif it be wholly untrue, yet he ought to investigate what originated the\ncharge, and to be on his guard and be afraid lest he had unawares done\nsomething very near akin to what was imputed to him. As Lacydes, the\nking of the Argives, by the way he wore his hair and by his mincing walk\ngot charged with effeminacy: and Pompey's scratching his head with one\nfinger was construed in the same way, though both these men were very\nfar from effeminacy or wantonness. And Crassus was accused of an\nintrigue with one of the Vestal Virgins, because he wished to purchase\nfrom her a pleasant estate, and therefore frequently visited her and\nwaited upon her. And Postumia, from her readiness to laugh and talk\nsomewhat freely with men, got accused and even had to stand her trial\nfor incest,[521] but was, however, acquitted of that charge: but Spurius\nMinucius the Pontif ex Maximus, when he pronounced her innocent, urged\nher not to be freer in her words than she was in her life. And though\nThemistocles[522] was guiltless of treason, his intimacy with Pausanias,\nand the letters and messages that frequently passed between them, laid\nhim under suspicion.\n\nSec. VII. Whenever therefore any false charge is made against us, we ought\nnot merely to despise and neglect it as false, but to see what word or\naction, either in jest or earnest, has made the charge seem probable,\nand this we must for the future be earnestly on our guard against and\nshun. For if others falling into unforeseen trouble and difficulties\nteach us what is expedient, as Merope says,\n\n  \"Fortune has made me wise, though she has ta'en\n   My dearest ones as wages,\"[523]\n\nwhy should we not take an enemy, and pay him no wages, to teach us, and\ngive us profit and instruction, in matters which had escaped our notice?\nFor an enemy has keener perception than a friend, for, as Plato[524]\nsays, \"the lover is blind as respects the loved one,\" and hatred is both\ncurious and talkative. Hiero was twitted by one of his enemies for his\nfoul breath, so he went home and said to his wife, \"How is this? You\nnever told me of it.\" But she being chaste and innocent replied, \"I\nthought all men's breath was like that.\"[525] Thus perceptible and\nmaterial things, and things that are plain to everybody, are sooner\nlearnt from enemies than from friends and intimates.\n\nSec. VIII. Moreover to keep the tongue well under control, no small factor\nin moral excellence, and to make it always obedient and submissive to\nreason, is not possible, unless by practice and attention and\npainstaking a man has subdued his worst passions, as for example anger.\nFor such expressions as \"a word uttered involuntarily,\" and \"escaping\nthe barrier of the teeth,\"[526] and \"words darting forth spontaneously,\"\nwell illustrate what happens in the case of ill-disciplined souls, ever\nwavering and in an unsettled condition through infirmity of temper,\nthrough unbridled fancy, or through faulty education. But, according to\ndivine Plato,[527] though a word seems a very trivial matter, the\nheaviest penalty follows upon it both from gods and men. But silence can\nnever be called to account, is not only not thirsty, to borrow the\nlanguage of Hippocrates, but when abused is dignified and Socratic, or\nrather Herculean, if indeed it was Hercules who said,\n\n  \"Sharp words he heeded not so much as flies.\"[528]\n\nNot more dignified and noble than this is it to keep silent when an\nenemy reviles you, \"as one swims by a smooth and mocking cliff,\" but in\npractice it is better. If you accustom yourself to bear silently the\nabuse of an enemy, you will very easily bear the attack of a scolding\nwife, and will remain undisturbed when you hear the sharp language of a\nfriend or brother, and will be calm and placid when you are beaten or\nhave something thrown at your head by your father or mother. For\nSocrates put up with Xanthippe, a passionate and forward woman, which\nmade him a more easy companion with others, as being accustomed to\nsubmit to her caprices; and it is far better to train and accustom the\ntemper to bear quietly the insults and rages and jeers and taunts of\nenemies and estranged persons, and not to be distressed at it.\n\nSec. IX. Thus then must we exhibit in our enmities meekness and\nforbearance, and in our friendships still more simplicity and\nmagnanimity and kindness. For it is not so graceful to do a friend a\nservice, as disgraceful to refuse to do so at his request; and not to\nrevenge oneself on an enemy when opportunity offers is generous. But the\nman who sympathizes with his enemy in affliction, and assists him in\ndistress, and readily holds out a helping hand to his children and\nfamily and their fortunes when in a low condition, whoever does not\nadmire such a man for his humanity, and praise his benevolence,\n\n  \"He has a black heart made of adamant\n   Or iron or bronze.\"[529]\n\nWhen Caesar ordered the statues of Pompey that had been thrown down to be\nput up again,[530] Cicero said, \"You have set up again Pompey's statues,\nand in so doing have erected statues to yourself.\" We ought not\ntherefore to be niggardly in our praise and honour of an enemy that\ndeserves a good name. For he who praises another receives on that\naccount greater praise himself, and is the more credited on another\noccasion when he finds fault, as not having any personal ill-feeling\nagainst the man, but only disapproving of his act; and what is most\nnoble and advantageous, the man who is accustomed to praise his enemies,\nand not to be vexed or malignant at their prosperity, is as far as\npossible from envying the good fortune of his friends, and the success\nof his intimates. And yet what practice will be more beneficial to our\nminds, or bring about a happier disposition, than that which banishes\nfrom us all jealousy and envy? For as in war many necessary things,\notherwise bad, are customary and have as it were the sanction of law, so\nthat they cannot be abolished in spite of the injury they do, so enmity\ndrags along in its train hatred, and envy, and jealousy, and malignity,\nand revenge, and stamps them on the character. Moreover knavery, and\ndeceit, and villainy, that seem neither bad nor unfair if employed\nagainst an enemy, if they once get planted in the mind are difficult to\ndislodge; and eventually from force of habit get used also against\nfriends, unless they are forewarned and forearmed through their previous\nacquaintance with the tricks of enemies. If then Pythagoras,[531]\naccustoming his disciples to abstain from all cruelty and inhumanity to\nthe brute creation, did right to discountenance bird-fowling, and to buy\nup draughts of fishes and bid them be thrown into the water again, and\nto forbid killing any but wild animals, much more noble is it, in\ndissensions and differences with human beings, to be a generous, just\nand true enemy, and to check and tame all bad and low and knavish\npropensities, that in all intercourse with friends a man may keep the\npeace and abstain from doing an injury. Scaurus was an enemy and accuser\nof Domitius, but when one of Domitius' slaves came to him to reveal some\nimportant matters which were unknown to Scaurus, he would not hear him,\nbut seized him and sent him back to his master. And when Cato was\nprosecuting Murena for canvassing, and was getting together his\nevidence, he was accompanied as was usual by people who watched what he\nwas doing,[532] and would often ask him if he intended that day to get\ntogether his witnesses and open the case, and if he said \"No,\" they\nbelieved him and went their way. All this is the greatest proof of the\ncredit which was reposed in Cato, but it is better and more important,\nthat we should accustom ourselves to deal justly even with our enemies,\nand then there will be no fear that we should ever act unjustly and\ntreacherously to our friends and intimates.\n\nSec. X. But since, as Simonides says, \"all larks must have their\ncrests,\"[533] and every man's nature contains in it pugnacity and\njealousy and envy, which last is, as Pindar says, \"the companion of\nempty-headed men,\" one might get considerable advantage by purging\noneself of those passions against enemies, and by diverting them, like\nsewers, as far as possible from companions and friends.[534] And this it\nseems the statesmanlike Onomademus had remarked, for being on the\nvictorious side in a disturbance at Chios, he urged his party not to\nexpel all of the different faction, but to leave some, \"in order,\" he\nsaid, \"that we may not begin to quarrel with our friends, when we have\ngot entirely rid of our enemies.\" So too our expending these passions\nentirely on our enemies will give less trouble to our friends. For it\nought not to be, as Hesiod[535] says, that \"potter envies potter, and\nsinger envies singer, and neighbour neighbour,\" and cousin cousin, and\nbrother brother, \"if hastening to get rich\" and enjoying prosperity. But\nif there is no other way to get rid of strife and envy and quarrels,\naccustom yourself to be vexed at your enemies' good fortune, and sharpen\nand accentuate on them your acerbity. For as judicious gardeners think\nthey produce finer roses and violets by planting alongside of them\ngarlic and onions, that any bitter or strong elements may be transferred\nto them, so your enemy's getting and attracting your envy and malignity\nwill render you kinder and more agreeable to your prosperous friends.\nAnd so let us be rivals of our enemies for glory or office or righteous\ngain, not only being vexed if they get ahead of us, but also carefully\nobserving all the steps by which they get ahead, and trying to outdo\nthem in industry, and hard work, and soberness, and prudence; as\nThemistocles said Miltiades' victory at Marathon would not let him\nsleep.[536] For he who thinks his enemy gets before him in offices, or\nadvocacies, or state affairs, or in favour with his friends or great\nmen, if from action and emulation he sinks into envy and despondency,\nmakes his life become idle and inoperative. But he who is not blinded by\nhate,[537] but a discerning spectator of life and character and words\nand deeds, will perceive that most of what he envies comes to those who\nhave them from diligence and prudence and good actions, and exerting\nhimself in the same direction he will increase his love of what is\nhonourable and noble, and will eradicate his vanity and sloth.\n\nSec. XI. But if our enemies seem to us to have got either by flattery, or\nfraud, or bribery, or venal services, ill-got and discreditable power at\ncourt or in state, it ought not to trouble us but rather inspire\npleasure in us, when we compare our own liberty and purity and\nindependence of life. For, as Plato[538] says, \"all the gold above or\nbelow the earth is not of equal value with virtue.\" And we ought ever to\nremember the precept of Solon, \"We will not exchange our virtue for\nothers' wealth.\"[539] Nor will we give up our virtue for the applause of\nbanqueting theatres, nor for honours and chief seats among eunuchs and\nharlots, nor to be monarchs' satraps; for nothing is to be desired or\nnoble that comes from what is bad. But since, as Plato[540] says, \"the\nlover is blind as respects the loved one,\" and we notice more what our\nenemies do amiss, we ought not to let either our joy at their faults or\nour grief at their success be idle, but in either case we ought to\nreflect, how we may become better than them by avoiding their errors,\nand by imitating their virtues not come short of them.\n\n    [497] So Pliny, viii. 83: \"In Creta Insula non vulpes\n    ursive, atque omnino millum maleficum animal praeter\n    phalangium.\"\n\n    [498] See the same remark of Chilo, \"On Abundance of\n    Friends,\" Sec. vi.\n\n    [499] \"Oeconom.\" i. 15.\n\n    [500] A treatise of Plutarch still extant.\n\n    [501] A line from a lost Satyric Play of AEschylus,\n    called \"Prometheus Purphoros.\"\n\n    [502] So fire is called [Greek: pantechnon] in AEschylus,\n    \"Prometheus Desmotes,\" 7.\n\n    [503] Compare Seneca, \"De Animi Tranquillitate,\" cap.\n    xiii.: \"Zeno noster cum omnia sua audiret submersa,\n    Jubet, inquit, me fortuna expeditius philosophari.\"\n\n    [504] See Horace, \"Epistles,\" i. I. 28; Pausanias, iv.\n    2.\n\n    [505] See Plautus, \"Trinummus,\" 205-211.\n\n    [506] Homer, \"Iliad,\" i. 255.\n\n    [507] Literally \"the artists of Dionysus.\" We know what\n    they were from our author's \"Quaestiones Romanae,\" Sec. 107:\n    [Greek: dia ti tous peri ton Dionuson technitas\n    histrionas Rhomaioi kalousin];\n\n    [508] Compare \"De Audiendis Poetis,\" Sec. iv.\n\n    [509] AEschylus, \"Septem contra Thebas,\" 593, 594.\n\n    [510] Pindar, \"Fragm.\" 253.\n\n    [511] Demosthenes, \"De Falsa Legatione,\" p. 406.\n\n    [512] Euripides, \"Orestes,\" 251.\n\n    [513] A line from Euripides. Quoted also \"De Adulatore\n    et Amico,\" Sec. xxxii.\n\n    [514] Compare \"De Audiendo,\" Sec.vi. See also Horace,\n    \"Satires,\" i, 4. 136, 137.\n\n    [515] The story is somewhat differently told, \"Quaest.\n    Conviv.,\" Lib. ii. Sec. ix.\n\n    [516] From a lost play of Euripides.\n\n    [517] In some lost play. Compare Hesiod, \"Works and\n    Days,\" 719-721; Terence, \"Andria,\" 920.\n\n    [518] The sentiment is assigned to Diogenes twice\n    elsewhere by our author, namely, \"How One may be aware\n    of one's Progress in Virtue,\" Sec. xi., and \"How One may\n    discern a Flatterer from a Friend,\" Sec. xxxvi.\n\n    [519] See Propertius, ii. 1. 63, 64; Ovid,\n    \"Metamorphoses,\" xii. 112; xiii. 171; \"Tristia,\" v. 2.\n    15, 16; \"Remedia Amoris,\" 47, 48; Erasmus, \"Adagia,\" p.\n    221.\n\n    [520] \"Jason Pheraeus cognomine Prometheus dictus est.\n    Vide Ciceronem, 'Nat. Deor.' iii. 29; Plinium, vii. 51;\n    Valerium Maximum, i. 8, Extem. 6.\"--_Wytttenbach._\n\n    [521] She was a Vestal Virgin. See Livy, iv. 44.\n\n    [522] See Thucydides, i. 135, 136.\n\n    [523] From a lost play of Euripides. Compare the\n    proverb, [Greek: pathemata mathemata].\n\n    [524] \"Laws,\" v. p. 731 E.\n\n    [525] Told again \"Reg. et Imperator. Apophthegm.,\" p.\n    175 B.\n\n    [526] A favourite image of Homer, employed \"Iliad,\" iv.\n    350; xiv. 83; \"Odyssey,\" i. 64; xxiii. 70.\n\n    [527] \"Laws,\" xi. p. 935 A. Quoted again \"On\n    Talkativeness,\" Sec. vii.\n\n    [528] See Pausanias, v. 14.\n\n    [529] From a Fragment of Pindar.\n\n    [530] See Suetonius, \"Divus Julius,\" 75: \"Sed et statuas\n    L. Sullae atque Pompeii a plebe disjectas reposuit.\"\n\n    [531] Compare our author, \"Quaestiones Convivalium,\"\n    viii. p. 729 E.\n\n    [532] No doubt in the interest of the defendant. See our\n    author, \"Cato Minor,\" p. 769 B.\n\n    [533] A Greek proverb, see Erasmus, \"Adagia,\" p. 921.\n\n    [534] So Cicero, \"Nat. Deor.\" ii. 56: \"In aedibus\n    architecti avertunt ab oculis naribusque dominorum ea\n    quae profluentia necessario taetri essent aliquid\n    habitura.\"\n\n    [535] \"Works and Days,\" 23-26. Our \"Two of a trade\n    seldom agree.\"\n\n    [536] Compare \"How One may be aware of one's Progress in\n    Virtue,\" Sec. xiv.\n\n    [537] For as the English proverb says, \"Hatred is blind\n    as well as love.\"\n\n    [538] \"Laws,\" v. p. 728 A.\n\n    [539] Quoted more fully \"How One may be aware of one's\n    Progress in Virtue,\" Sec. vi.\n\n    [540] \"Laws,\" v. p. 731 E. See also above, Sec. vii.\n\n\n\n\nON TALKATIVENESS.[541]\n\n\nSec. I. Philosophy finds talkativeness a disease very difficult and hard to\ncure. For its remedy, conversation, requires hearers: but talkative\npeople hear nobody, for they are ever prating. And the first evil this\ninability to keep silence produces is an inability to listen. It is a\nself-chosen deafness of people who, I take it, blame nature for giving\nus one tongue and two ears. If then the following advice of Euripides to\na foolish hearer was good,\n\n  \"I cannot fill one that can nought retain,\n   Pumping up wise words for an unwise man;\"\n\none might more justly say to a talkative man, or rather about a\ntalkative man,\n\n  \"I cannot fill one that will nothing take,\n   Pumping up wise words for an unwise man;\"\n\nor rather deluging with words one that talks to those who don't listen,\nand listens not to those who talk. Even if he does listen for a short\ntime, talkativeness hurries off what is said like the retiring sea, and\nanon brings it up again multiplied with the approaching tide. The\nportico at Olympia that returns many echoes to one utterance is called\nseven-voiced,[542] and if the slightest utterance catches the ear of\ntalkativeness, it at once echoes it all round,\n\n  \"Moving the mind's chords all unmoved before.\"[543]\n\nFor their ears can certainly have no passages leading to the brain but\nonly to the tongue. And so while other people retain what they hear,\ntalkative people lose it altogether, and, being empty-headed, they\nresemble empty vessels, and go about making much noise.[544]\n\nSec. II. If however it seems that no attempt at cure has been left untried,\nlet us say to the talkative person,\n\n  \"Be silent, boy; silence has great advantages;\"\n\ntwo of the first and foremost of which are hearing and being heard,\nneither of which can happen to talkative people, for however they desire\neither so unhappy are they that they must desist from it. For in all\nother diseases of the soul, as love of money, love of glory, or love of\npleasure, people at any rate attain the desired object: but it is the\ncruel fate of talkative people to desire hearers but not to get them,\nfor everyone flees from them with headlong speed; and if people are\nsitting or walking about in any public place,[545] and see one coming\nthey quickly pass the word to one another to shift quarters. And as when\nthere is dead silence in any assembly they say Hermes has joined the\ncompany, so when any prater joins some drinking party or social\ngathering of friends, all are silent, not wishing to give him a chance\nto break in, and if he uninvited begin to open his mouth, they all,\n\"like before a storm at sea, when Boreas is blowing a gale round some\nheadland,\" foreseeing tossing about and nausea, disperse. And so it is\ntheir destiny to find neither willing table-companions, nor messmates\nwhen they are travelling by land or by sea, but only such as cannot help\nthemselves; for such a fellow is always at you, plucking hold of your\nclothes or chin, or giving you a dig in the ribs with his elbow. \"Most\nvaluable are the feet in such a conjuncture,\" according to Archilochus,\nnay according to the wise Aristotle himself. For he being bothered with\na talkative fellow, and wearied out with his absurd tales, and his\nfrequent question, \"Is not this wonderful, Aristotle?\" \"Not at all,\"\nsaid he, \"but it is wonderful that anyone with a pair of legs stops here\nto listen to you.\" And to another such fellow, who said after a long\nrigmarole, \"Did I weary you, philosopher, by my chatter?\" \"Not you, by\nZeus,\" said he, \"for I paid no attention to you.\" For even if talkative\npeople force you to listen,[546] the mind can give them only its outward\nears to deluge, while it unfolds and pursues some other thoughts within;\nso they find neither hearers to attend to them, nor credit them. They\nsay those that are prone to Venus are commonly barren: so the prating of\ntalkative people is ineffectual and fruitless.\n\nSec. III. And yet nature has fenced and barricaded in us nothing so much as\nthe tongue, having put the teeth before it as a barrier, so that if,\nwhen reason holds tight her \"glossy reins,\"[547] it hearken not, nor\nkeep within bounds, we may check its intemperance, biting it till the\nblood comes. For Euripides tells us that, not from unbolted houses or\nstore-rooms, but \"from unbridled mouths the end is misfortune.\"[548] But\nthose persons who think that houses without doors and open purses are no\ngood to their possessors, and yet keep their mouths open and unshut, and\nallow their speech to flow continually like the waves of the\nEuxine,[549] seem to regard speech as of less value than anything. And\nso they never get believed, though credit is the aim of every speech;\nfor to inspire belief in one's hearers is the proper end of speech, but\npraters are disbelieved even when they tell the truth. For as corn\nstowed away in a granary is found to be larger in quantity but inferior\nin quality, so the speech of a talkative man is increased by a large\naddition of falsehood, which destroys his credit.\n\nSec. IV. Then again every man of modesty and propriety would avoid\ndrunkenness, for anger is next door neighbour to madness as some\nthink,[550] but drunkenness lives in the same house: or rather\ndrunkenness is madness, more short-lived indeed, but more potent also\nthrough volition, for it is self-chosen. Nor is drunkenness censured for\nanything so much as its intemperate and endless talk.\n\n  \"Wine makes a prudent man begin to sing,\n   And gently laugh, and even makes him dance.\"[551]\n\nAnd yet there is no harm in all this, in singing and laughing and\ndancing. But the poet adds--\n\n  \"And it compels to say what's best unsaid.\"[552]\n\nThis is indeed dreadful and dangerous. And perhaps the poet in this\npassage has solved that problem of the philosophers, and stated the\ndifference between being under the influence of wine and being drunk,\nmirth being the condition of the former, foolish talk of the latter. For\nas the proverb tells us, \"What is in the heart of the sober is on the\ntongue of the drunken.\"[553] And so Bias, being silent at a drinking\nbout, and jeered at by some young man in the company as stupid, replied,\n\"What fool could hold his tongue in liquor?\" And at Athens a certain\nperson gave an entertainment to the king's ambassadors, and at their\ndesire contrived to get the philosophers there too, and as they were all\ntalking together and comparing ideas, and Zeno alone was silent, the\nstrangers greeted him and pledged him, and said, \"What are we to tell\nthe king about you, Zeno?\" And he replied, \"Nothing, but that there is\nan old man at Athens that can hold his tongue at a drinking bout.\" So\nprofound and mysterious and sober is silence, while drunkenness is\ntalkative: for it is void of sense and understanding, and so is\nloquacious. And so the philosophers define drunkenness to be silly talk\nin wine. Drinking therefore is not censured, if silence go with it, but\nfoolish prating turns being under the influence of wine into\ndrunkenness. And the drunken man prates only in his cups; but the\ntalkative man prates everywhere, in the market-place, in the theatre,\nout walking, by night and by day. If he is your doctor, he is more\ntrouble to you than your disease: if he is on board ship with you, he\ndisgusts you more than sea-sickness; if he praises you, he is more\nfulsome than blame. It is more pleasure associating with bad men who\nhave tact than with good men who prate. Nestor indeed in Sophocles'\nPlay, trying by his words to soothe exasperated Ajax, said to him\nmildly,\n\n  \"I blame you not, for though your words are bad,\n   Your acts are good:\"\n\nbut we cannot feel so to the talkative man, for his want of tact in\nwords destroys and undoes all the grace of his actions.\n\nSec. V. Lysias wrote a defence for some accused person, and gave it him,\nand he read it several times, and came to Lysias in great dejection and\nsaid, \"When I first perused this defence, it seemed to me wonderful, but\nwhen I read it a second and third time, it seemed altogether dull and\nineffective. Then Lysias laughed, and said, \"What then? Are you going to\nread it more than once to the jury?\" And yet do but consider the\npersuasiveness and grace of Lysias' style;[554] for he \"I say was a\ngreat favourite with the dark-haired Muses.\"[555] And of the things\nwhich have been said of Homer the truest is that he alone of all poets\nhas survived the fastidiousness of mankind, as being ever new and still\nat his acme as regards giving pleasure, and yet saying and proclaiming\nabout himself, \"I hate to spin out a plain tale over and over\nagain,\"[556] he avoids and fears that satiety which lies in ambush for\nevery narrative, and takes the hearer from one subject to another, and\nrelieves by novelty the possibility of being surfeited. But the\ntalkative worry one's ears to death with their tautologies, as people\nscribble the same things over and over again on palimpsests.[557]\n\nSec. VI. Let us remind them then first of this, that just as in the case of\nwine, which was intended for pleasure and mirth, those who compel people\nto drink it neat and in large quantities bring some into a disgusting\ncondition of drunkenness, so with speech, which is the pleasantest\nsocial tie amongst mankind, those who make a bad and ill-advised use of\nit render it unpleasing and unfit for company, paining those whom they\nthink to gratify, and become a laughing-stock to those who they think\nadmire them, and objectionable to those who they think love them. As\nthen he cannot be a favourite of the goddess who with Aphrodite's\ncharmed girdle[558] repels and drives away those who associate with him,\nso he who with his speech bores and disgusts one is without either taste\nor refinement.\n\nSec. VII. Of all other passions and disorders some are dangerous, some\nhateful, some ridiculous, but in talkativeness all these elements are\ncombined. For praters are jeered at for their commonplaces, and hated\nwhen they bring bad news, and run into danger when they reveal secrets.\nAnd so Anacharsis, when he was feasted by Solon and lay down to sleep,\nand was observed with his left hand on his private parts, and his right\nhand on his mouth, for he thought his tongue needed the stronger\nrestraint, was right in his opinion. For it would be difficult to find\nas many men who have been ruined by venereal excesses as cities and\nleading states that have been undone by the utterance of a secret. When\nSulla was besieging Athens, and had no time to waste there, \"for he had\nother fish to fry,\"[559] as Mithridates was ravaging Asia, and the party\nof Marius was again in power at Rome, some old men in a barber's shop\nhappened to observe to one another that the Heptachalcon was not well\nguarded, and that their city ran a great risk of being captured at that\npoint, and some spies who overheard this conversation reported it to\nSulla. And he at once marched up his forces, and about midnight entered\nthe city with his army, and all but rased it to the ground, and filled\nit with slaughter and dead bodies, insomuch that the Ceramicus ran with\nblood: and he was thus savage against the Athenians for their words\nrather than their deeds, for they had spoken ill of him and his wife\nMetella, jumping on to the walls and calling out in a jeering way,\n\n  \"Sulla is a mulberry bestrewn with barley meal,\"\n\nand much similar banter. Thus they drew down upon themselves for words,\nwhich, as Plato[560] says, are a very small matter, a very heavy\npunishment.[561] The prating of one man also prevented Rome from\nbecoming free by the removal of Nero. For it was only the night before\nthe tyrant was to be murdered, and all preparations had been made, when\nhe that was to do the deed going to the theatre, and seeing someone in\nchains near the doors who was about to be taken before Nero, and was\nbewailing his sad fortune, went up close to him and whispered, \"Pray\nonly, good sir, that to-day may pass by, to-morrow you will owe me many\nthanks.\" He guessing the meaning of the riddle, and thinking, I take it,\n\"he is a fool who gives up what is in his hand for a remote\ncontingency,\"[562] preferred certain to honourable safety. For he\ninformed Nero of what the man had said, and he was immediately arrested,\nand torture, and fire, and scourging were applied to him, who denied now\nin his necessity what before he had divulged without necessity.\n\nSec. VIII. Zeno the philosopher,[563] that he might not against his will\ndivulge any secrets when put to the torture, bit off his tongue, and\nspit it at the tyrant. Famous also was the reward which Leaena had for\nher taciturnity.[564] She was the mistress of Harmodius and Aristogiton,\nand, although a woman, participated in their hopes of success in the\nconspiracy against the tyrants: for she had revelled in the glorious cup\nof love, and had been initiated in their secrets through the god. When\nthen they had failed in their attempt and been put to death, and she was\nexamined and bidden to reveal the names of the other conspirators, she\nrefused to do so, and held out to the end, showing that those famous men\nin loving such a one as her had done nothing unworthy of them. And the\nAthenians erected to her memory a bronze lioness without a tongue, and\nplaced it near the entrance to the Acropolis, signifying her dauntless\ncourage by the nobleness of that animal, and by its being without a\ntongue her silence and fidelity. For no spoken word has done as much\ngood as many unspoken ones. For at some future day we can give utterance\nif we like to what has been not said, but a word once spoken cannot be\nrecalled, but flies about and runs all round the world. And this is the\nreason, I take it, why men teach us to speak, but the gods teach us to\nbe silent, silence being enjoined on us in the mysteries and in all\nreligious rites. Thus Homer has described the most eloquent Odysseus,\nand Telemachus, and Penelope, and the nurse, as all remarkable for their\ntaciturnity. You remember the nurse saying,\n\n  \"I'll keep it close as heart of oak or steel.\"[565]\n\nAnd Odysseus sitting by Penelope,\n\n  \"Though in his heart he pitied her sad grief,\n   His eyes like horn or steel impassive stood\n   Within their lids, and craft his tears repressed.\"[566]\n\nSo great control had he over all his body, and so much were all his\nmembers under the sway and rule of reason, that he commanded his eyes\nnot to weep, his tongue not to speak, and his heart not to tremble or\nquake.[567]\n\n  \"So calm and passive did his heart remain,\"[568]\n\nreason penetrating even to the irrational instincts, and making spirit\nand blood obedient and docile to it. Such also were most of his\ncompanions, for though they were dashed to the ground and dragged along\nby the Cyclops, they said not a word about Odysseus, nor did they show\nthe stake of wood that had been put into the fire and prepared to put\nout Polyphemus' eye, but they would rather have been eaten alive than\ndivulge secrets, such wonderful self-control and fidelity had they.[569]\nAnd so it was not amiss of Pittacus, when the king of Egypt sent him a\nvictim, and bade him take from it the best and worst piece of it, to\npull out the tongue and send that to the king, as being the instrument\nof the greatest blessings and withal the greatest mischiefs.\n\nSec. IX. So Ino in Euripides, speaking plainly about herself, says she\nknows \"how to be silent when she should, and to speak when speech is\nsafe.\"[570] For those who have enjoyed a truly noble and royal education\nlearn first to be silent and then to speak. So the famous king\nAntigonus, when his son asked him, \"When are we going to shift our\nquarters?\" answered, \"Are you afraid that you only will not hear the\ntrumpet?\" Was he afraid then to entrust a secret to him, to whom he\nintended one day to leave his kingdom? Nay rather, it was to teach him\nto be close and guarded on such matters. Metellus[571] also, the\nwell-known veteran, when questioned somewhat similarly about an\nexpedition, said, \"If I thought my coat knew the secret, I would strip\nit off and throw it into the fire.\" And Eumenes, when he heard that\nCraterus was marching against him, told none of his friends, but\npretended that it was Neoptolemus; for his soldiers despised\nNeoptolemus, but they admired the glory and loved the virtue of\nCraterus; and no one but Eumenes knew the truth, and they engaged and\nwere victorious, and unwittingly killed Craterus, and only recognized\nhis dead body. So great a part did silence play in the battle,\nconcealing the name of the enemy's general: so that Eumenes' friends\nmarvelled more than found fault at his not having told them the truth.\nAnd if anyone should receive blame in such a case, it is better to be\ncensured when one has done well by keeping one's counsel, rather than to\nhave to accuse others through having come to grief by trusting them.\n\nSec. X. But, generally speaking, who has the right to blame the person who\nhas not kept his secret? For if it was not to be known, it was not well\nto tell another person of it at all, and if you divulged your secret\nyourself and expected another person to keep it, you had more faith in\nanother than in yourself. And so should he be such another as yourself\nyou are deservedly undone, and should he be a better man than yourself,\nyour safety is more than you could have reckoned on, as it involved\nfinding a man more to be trusted than yourself. But you will say, He is\nmy friend. Yes, but he has another friend, whom he reposes confidence in\nas much as you do in your friend, and that other friend has one of his\nown, and so on, so that the secret spreads in many quarters from\ninability to keep it close in one. For as the unit never deviates from\nits orbit, but (as its name signifies) always remains one, but the\nnumber two contains within it the seeds of infinity, for when it departs\nfrom itself it becomes plurality at once by doubling, so speech confined\nin one person's breast is truly secret, but if it be communicated to\nanother it soon gets noised abroad. And so Homer calls words \"winged,\"\nfor as he that lets a bird go from his hands cannot easily get it back\nagain, so he that lets a word go from his mouth cannot catch or stop it,\nbut it is borne along \"whirling on swift wings,\" and dispersed from one\nperson to another. When a ship scuds before the gale the mariners can\nstop it, or at least check its course with cables and anchors, but when\nthe spoken word once sails out of harbour, so to speak, there is no\nroadstead or anchorage for it, but borne along with much noise and echo\nit dashes its utterer on the rocks, and brings him into imminent danger\nof shipwreck,\n\n  \"As one might set on fire Ida's woods\n   With a small torch, so what one tells one person\n   Is soon the property of all the citizens.\"[572]\n\nSec. XI. The Roman Senate had been discussing for several days a secret\nmatter, and there was much doubt and suspicion about it. And one of the\nsenator's wives, discreet in other matters but a very woman in\ncuriosity, pressed her husband close, and entreated him to tell her what\nthe secret was; she vowed and swore she would not divulge it, and did\nnot refrain from shedding tears at her not being trusted. And he,\nnothing loth to convince her of her folly, said, \"Your importunity,\nwife, has prevailed, listen to a dreadful and portentous matter. It has\nbeen told us by the priests that a lark has been seen flying in the air\nwith a golden helmet and spear: it is this portent that we are\nconsidering and discussing with the augurs, as to whether it be a good\nor bad omen. But say nothing about it.\" Having said these words he went\ninto the Forum. But his wife seized on the very first of her maids that\nentered the room, and smote her breast, and tore her hair, and said,\n\"Alas! for my husband and country! What will become of us?\" wishing and\nteaching her maid to say, \"Whatever's up?\" So when she inquired she told\nher all about it, adding that refrain common to all praters, \"Tell no\none a word about it.\" The maid however had scarce left her mistress when\nshe told one of her fellow-servants who was doing little or nothing, and\nshe told her lover who happened to call at that moment. So the news\nspread to the Forum so quickly that it got the start of its original\nauthor, and one of his friends meeting him said, \"Have you only just\nleft your house?\" \"Only just,\" he replied. \"Didn't you hear the news?\"\nsaid his friend. \"What news?\" said he. \"Why, that a lark has been seen\nflying in the air with a golden helmet and spear, and the Senate are met\nto discuss the portent.\" And he smiled and said to himself, \"You are\nquick, wife, for the tale to get before me to the Forum!\" Then meeting\nsome of the Senators he disabused them of their panic. But to punish his\nwife, he said when he got home, \"You have undone me, wife: for the\nsecret has got abroad from my house, so that I must be an exile from my\ncountry for your inability to keep a secret.\" And on her trying to deny\nit, and saying, \"Were there not three hundred Senators that heard of it\nas well as you? Might not one of them have divulged it?\" he replied,\n\"Stuff o' your three hundred! It was at your importunity that I invented\nthe story, to put you to the test!\" This fellow tested his wife warily\nand cunningly, as one pours water, and not wine or oil, into a leaky\nvessel. And Fabius,[573] the friend of Augustus, hearing the Emperor in\nhis old age mourning over the extinction of his family, how two of his\ndaughter Julia's sons were dead, and how Posthumus Agrippa, the only\nremaining one, was in exile through false accusation,[574] and how he\nwas compelled to put his wife's son[575] into the succession to the\nEmpire, though he pitied Agrippa and had half a mind to recall him from\nbanishment, repeated the Emperor's words to his wife, and she to\nLivia.[576] And Livia bitterly upbraided Augustus, if he meant recalling\nhis grandson, for not having done so long ago, instead of bringing her\ninto hatred and hostility with the heir to the Empire. When Fabius came\nin the morning as usual into the Emperor's presence, and said, \"Hail,\nCaesar!\" the Emperor replied, \"Farewell,[577] Fabius.\" And he\nunderstanding the meaning of this straightway went home, and sent for\nhis wife, and said, \"The Emperor knows that I have not kept his secret,\nso I shall kill myself.\" And his wife replied, \"You have deserved your\nfate, since having been married to me so long you did not remember and\nguard against my incontinence of speech, but suffer me to kill myself\nfirst.\" So saying she took his sword, and slew herself first.\n\nSec. XII. That was a good answer therefore that the comic poet Philippides\nmade to king Lysimachus, who greeted him kindly, and said to him,[578]\n\"What shall I give you of all my possessions?\" \"Whatever you like, O\nking, except your secrets.\" And talkativeness has another plague\nattached to it, even curiosity: for praters wish to hear much that they\nmay have much to say, and most of all do they gad about to investigate\nand pry into secrets and hidden things, providing as it were an\nantiquated stock of rubbish[579] for their twaddle, in fine like\nchildren who cannot[580] hold ice in their hands, and yet are unwilling\nto let it go,[581] or rather taking secrets to their bosoms and\nembracing them as if they were so many serpents, that they cannot\ncontrol, but are sure to be gnawed to death by. They say that garfish\nand vipers burst in giving life to their young, so secrets by coming out\nruin and destroy those who cannot keep them. Seleucus Callinicus having\nlost his army and all his forces in a battle against the Galati, threw\noff his diadem, and fled on a swift horse with an escort of three or\nfour of his men a long day's journey by bypaths and out-of-the-way\ntracks, till faint and famishing for want of food he drew rein at a\nsmall farmhouse, where by chance he found the master at home, and asked\nfor some bread and water. And he supplied him liberally and courteously\nnot only with what he asked for but with whatever else was on the farm,\nand recognized the king, and being very joyful at this opportunity of\nministering to the king's necessities, he could not contain himself, nor\ndissemble like the king who wished to be incognito, but he accompanied\nhim to the road, and on parting from him, said, \"Farewell, king\nSeleucus.\" And he stretching out his right hand, and drawing the man to\nhim as if he was going to kiss him, gave a sign to one of his escort to\ndraw his sword and cut the man's head off;\n\n  \"And at his word the head roll'd in the dust.\"[582]\n\nWhereas if he had been silent then, and kept his counsel for a time, as\nthe king afterwards became prosperous and great, he would have received,\nI take it, greater favour for his silence than for his hospitality. And\nyet he had I admit some excuse for his want of reticence, namely hope\nand joy.\n\nSec. XIII. But most talkative people have no excuse for ruining themselves.\nAs for example in a barber's shop one day there was some conversation\nabout the tyranny of Dionysius, that it was as hard as adamant and\ninvincible, and the barber laughed and said, \"Fancy your saying this to\nme, who have my razor at his throat most days!\" And Dionysius hearing\nthis had him crucified. Barbers indeed are generally a talkative race,\nfor people fond of prating flock to them and sit in their shops, so that\nthey pick up the habit from their customers. It was a witty answer\ntherefore of king Archelaus,[583] when a talkative barber put the towel\nround his neck, and asked him, \"How shall I shave you, O king?\"\n\"Silently,\" said the monarch. It was a barber that first spread the news\nof the great reverse of the Athenians in Sicily, having heard of it at\nthe Piraeus from a slave that had escaped from the island. He at once\nleft his shop, and ran into the city at full speed, \"that no one else\nshould reap the fame, and he come in the second,\"[584] of carrying the\nnews into the town. And an uproar arising, as was only to be expected,\nthe people assembled in the ecclesia, and began to investigate the\norigin of the rumour. So the barber was dragged up and questioned, but\nknew not the person's name who had told him, so was obliged to refer its\norigin to an anonymous and unknown person. Then anger filled the\ntheatre, and the multitude cried out, \"Torture the cursed fellow, put\nhim to the rack: he has fabricated and concocted this news: who else\nheard it? who credits it?\" The wheel was brought, the poor fellow\nstretched on it. Meantime those came up who had brought the news, who\nhad escaped from the carnage in Sicily. Then all the multitude dispersed\nto weep over their private sorrows, and abandoned the poor barber, who\nremained fastened to the wheel. And when released late in the evening he\nactually asked the executioner, if they had heard how Nicias the General\nwas slain. So invincible and incorrigible a vice does habit make\ntalkativeness to be.\n\nSec. XIV. And yet, as those that drink bitter and strong-smelling physic\nare disgusted even with the cups they drink it out of, so those that\nbring evil tidings are disliked and hated by their hearers. Wittily\ntherefore has Sophocles described the conversation between Creon and the\nguard.\n\n  \"_G._ Is't in your ears or in your mind you're grieved?\n   _C._ Why do you thus define the seat of grief?\n   _G._ The doer pains your mind, but I your ears.\"[585]\n\nHowever those that tell the tale grieve us as well as those that did the\ndeed: and yet there is no means of checking or controlling the running\ntongue. At Lacedaemon the temple of Athene Chalcioecus[586] was broken\ninto, and an empty flagon was observed lying on the ground inside, and a\ngreat concourse of people came up and discussed the matter. And one of\nthe company said, \"If you will allow me, I will tell you what I think\nabout this flagon. I cannot help being of opinion that these\nsacrilegious wretches drank hemlock, and brought wine with them, before\ncommencing their nefarious and dangerous work: that so, if they should\nfail to be detected, they might depart in safety, drinking the wine neat\nas an antidote to the hemlock: whereas should they be caught in the act,\nbefore they were put to the torture they would die of the poison easily\nand painlessly.\" When he had uttered these words, the idea seemed so\ningenious and farfetched that it looked as if it could not emanate from\nfancy, but only from knowledge of the real facts. So the crowd\nsurrounded this man, and asked him one after the other, \"Who are you?\nWho knows you? How come you to know all this?\" And at last he was\nconvicted in this way, and confessed that he was one of those that had\ncommitted the sacrilege. And were not the murderers of Ibycus similarly\ncaptured? They were sitting in the theatre, and some cranes flew over\ntheir heads, and they laughed and whispered to one another, \"Behold the\navengers of Ibycus.\" And this being overheard by some who sat near, as\nIbycus had now been some time missing and inquired after, they laid hold\nof this remark, and reported it to the magistrates. And so they were\nconvicted and dragged off to punishment, being brought to justice not by\nthe cranes but by their own inability to hold their tongues, being\ncompelled by some Fury or Vengeance as it were to divulge the\nmurder.[587] For as in the body there is an attraction to sore and\nsuffering parts from neighbouring parts, so the tongue of talkative\npersons, ever suffering from inflammation and a throbbing pulse,\nattracts and draws to it secret and hidden things. And so the tongue\nought to be fenced in, and have reason ever before it, as a bulwark, to\nprevent its tripping: that we may not seem to be more silly than geese,\nof whom it is said that, when they fly from Cilicia over Mt. Taurus\nwhich swarms with eagles, they carry in their mouths a large stone,\nwhich they employ as a gag or bridle for their scream, and so they cross\nover by night unobserved.\n\nSec. XV. Now if anyone were to ask who is the worst and most abandoned man,\nno one would pass over the traitor, or mention anyone else. It was as\nthe reward of treason that Euthycrates roofed his house with Macedonian\nwood, as Demosthenes tells us; and that Philocrates got a large sum of\nmoney, and spent it on women and fish; and it was for betraying Eretria\nthat Euphorbus and Philagrus got an estate from king Philip. But the\ntalkative man is an unhired and officious traitor, not of horses[588] or\nwalls, but of secrets which he divulges in the law courts, in factions,\nin party-strife, no one thanking him for his pains; but should anyone\nlisten to him he thinks he is the obliged party. So that what was said\nto a man who rashly and indiscriminately squandered away all his means\nand bestowed them on others,\n\n  \"It is not kindness in you but disease,\n   This itch for giving,\"[589]\n\nis appropriate also to the prater, \"You don't communicate to us all this\nout of friendship or goodwill, but it is a disease in you, this itch for\ntalking and prating.\"\n\nSec. XVI. But all this must not be looked upon merely as an indictment\nagainst talkativeness, but an attempt to cure it: for we overcome the\npassions by judgement and practice, but judgement is the first step. For\nno one is wont to shun, and eradicate from his soul, what he does not\ndislike. And we dislike the passions only when we discern by reason the\nharm and shame that results to us by indulging them. As we see every day\nin the case of talkative people: if they wish to be loved, they are\nhated; if they desire to please, they bore; when they think they are\nadmired, they are really laughed at; they spend, and get no gain from so\ndoing; they injure their friends, benefit their enemies, and ruin\nthemselves. So that the first cure and remedy of this disorder will be\nto reckon up the shame and trouble that results from it.\n\nSec. XVII. In the next place we must consider the opposite virtue to\ntalkativeness, always listening to and having on our lips the encomiums\npassed upon reserve, and remembering the decorum sanctity and mysterious\npower of silence, and ever bearing in mind that terse and brief\nspeakers, who put the maximum of matter into the minimum of words, are\nmore admired and esteemed and thought wiser[590] than unbridled\nwindbags. And so Plato[591] praises, and compares to clever javelin-men,\nsuch as speak tersely, compressedly, and concisely. And Lycurgus by\nusing his citizens from boyhood to silence taught them to perfection\ntheir brevity and terseness. For as the Celtiberians make steel of iron\nonly after digging down deep in the soil, and carefully separating the\niron ore, so Laconian oratory has no rind,[592] but by the removal of\nall superfluous matter goes home straight to the point like steel. For\nits sententiousness,[593] and pointed suppleness in repartee, comes from\nthe habit of silence. And we ought to quote such pointed sayings\nespecially to talkative people, such neatness and vigour have they, as,\nfor example, what the Lacedaemonians said to Philip, \"[Remember]\nDionysius at Corinth.\"[594] And again, when Philip wrote to them, \"If I\ninvade Laconia, I will drive you all out of house and home,\" they only\nwrote back, \"If.\" And when king Demetrius was indignant and cried out,\n\"The Lacedaemonians have only sent me one ambassador,\" the ambassador was\nnot frightened but said, \"Yes, one to one man.\" Certainly among the\nancients men of few words were admired. So the Amphictyones did not\nwrite extracts from the Iliad or Odyssey, or the Paeans of Pindar, in the\ntemple of Pythian Apollo at Delphi, but \"Know thyself,\" \"Not too much of\nanything,\"[595] and \"Be a surety, trouble is near;\"[596] so much did\nthey admire compactness and simplicity of speech, combining brevity with\nshrewdness of mind. And is not the god himself short and concise in his\noracles? Is he not called Loxias,[597] because he prefers ambiguity to\nlongwindedness? And are not those who express their meaning by signs\nwithout words wonderfully praised and admired? As Heraclitus, when some\nof the citizens asked him to give them his opinion about concord, got on\nthe platform, and took a cup of cold water, and put some barley-meal in\nit, and stirred it up with penny-royal, thus showing them that it is\nbeing content with anything, and not needing costly dainties, that keeps\ncities in peace and concord. Scilurus, the king of the Scythians, left\neighty sons, and on his death-bed asked for a bundle of sticks, and bade\nhis sons break it when it was tied together, and when they could not, he\ntook the sticks one by one and easily broke them all up: thus showing\nthem that their harmony and concord would make them strong and hard to\noverthrow, while dissension would make them feeble and insecure.\n\nSec. XVIII. If then anyone were continually to recollect and repeat these\nor similar terse sayings, he would probably cease to be pleased with\nidle talk. As for myself, when I consider of what importance it is to\nattend to reason, and to keep to one's purpose, I confess I am quite put\nout of countenance by the example of the slave of Pupius Piso the\norator. He, not wishing to be annoyed by their prating, ordered his\nslaves merely to answer his questions, and not say a word more. On one\noccasion wishing to pay honour to Clodius who was then in power, he\nordered him to be invited to his house, and provided for him no doubt a\nsumptuous entertainment. At the time fixed all the guests were present\nexcept Clodius, for whom they waited, and the host frequently sent the\nslave who used to invite guests to see if he was coming, but when\nevening came, and he was now quite despaired of, he said to his slave,\n\"Did you not invite him?\" \"Certainly,\" said the slave. \"Why then has he\nnot come?\" said the master. \"Because he declined,\" said the slave. \"Why\nthen did you not tell me of it at once?\" said the master. \"Because you\nnever asked me,\" said the slave. This was a Roman slave. But an Athenian\nslave \"while digging will tell his master on what terms peace was made.\"\nSo great is the force of habit in all matters. And of it we will now\nspeak.\n\nSec. XIX. For it is not by applying bit or bridle that we can restrain the\ntalkative person, we must master the disease by habit. In the first\nplace then, when you are in company and questions are going round,\naccustom yourself not to speak till all the rest have declined giving an\nanswer. For as Sophocles says, \"counsel is not like a race;\" no more are\nquestion and answer. For in a race the victory belongs to him who gets\nin first, but in company, if anyone has given a satisfactory answer, it\nis sufficient by assenting and agreeing to his view to get the\nreputation of being a pleasant fellow; and if no satisfactory answer is\ngiven, then to enlighten ignorance and supply the necessary information\nis well-timed and does not excite envy. But let us be especially on our\nguard that, if anyone else is asked a question, we do not ourselves\nanticipate and intercept him in giving an answer. It is indeed perhaps\nnowhere good form, if another is asked a favour, to push him aside and\nundertake to grant it ourselves; for we shall seem so to upbraid two\npeople at once, the one who was asked as not able to grant the favour,\nand the other as not knowing how to ask in the right quarter. But\nespecially insulting is such forwardness and impetuosity in answering\nquestions. For he that anticipates by his own answer the person that was\nasked the question seems to say, \"What is the good of asking him? What\ndoes he know about it? In my presence nobody else ought to be asked\nabout these matters.\" And yet we often put questions to people, not so\nmuch because we want an answer, as to elicit from them conversation and\nfriendly feeling, and from a wish to fit them for company, as Socrates\ndrew out Theaetetus and Charmides. For it is all one to run up and kiss\none who wishes to be kissed by another, or to divert to oneself the\nattention that he was bestowing on another, as to intercept another\nperson's answers, and to transfer people's ears, and force their\nattention, and fix them on oneself; when, even if he that was asked\ndeclines to give an answer, it will be well to hold oneself in reserve,\nand only to meet the question modestly when one's turn comes, so framing\none's answer as to seem to oblige the person who asked the question, and\nas if one had been appealed to for an answer by the other. For if people\nare asked questions and cannot give a satisfactory answer they are with\njustice excused; but he who without being asked undertakes to answer a\nquestion, and anticipates another, is disagreeable even if he succeeds,\nwhile, if his answer is unsatisfactory, he is ridiculed by all the\ncompany, and his failure is a source of the liveliest satisfaction to\nthem.\n\nSec. XX. The next thing to practise oneself to in answering the questions\nput to one,--a point to which the talkative person ought to pay the\ngreatest attention,--is not through inadvertence to give serious answers\nto people who only challenge you to talk in fun and sport. For some\npeople concoct questions not for real information, but simply for\namusement and to pass the time away, and propound them to talkative\npeople, just to have them on. Against this we must be on our guard, and\nnot rush into conversation too hastily, or as if we were obliged for the\nchance, but we must consider the character of the inquirer and his\npurpose. When it seems that he really desires information, we should\naccustom ourselves to pause, and interpose some interval between the\nquestion and answer; during which time the questioner can add anything\nif he chooses, and the other can reflect on his answer, and not be in\ntoo great a hurry about it, nor bury it in obscurity, nor, as is\nfrequently the case in too great haste, answer some other question than\nthat which was asked. The Pythian Priestess indeed was accustomed to\nutter some of her oracles at the very moment before the question was\nput: for the god whom she serves \"understands the dumb, and hears the\nmute.\"[598] But he that wishes to give an appropriate answer must\ncarefully consider both the question and the mind of the questioner,\nlest it be as the proverb expresses it,\n\n  \"I asked for shovels, they denied me pails.\"[599]\n\nBesides we ought to check this greediness and hunger for words, that it\nmay not seem as if we had a flood on our tongue which was dammed up, but\nwhich we were only too glad to discharge[600] on a question being put.\nSocrates indeed so repressed his thirst, that he would not allow himself\nto drink after exercise in the gymnasium, till he had first drawn from\nthe well one bucket of water and poured it on to the ground, that he\nmight accustom his irrational part to wait upon reason.\n\nSec. XXI. There are moreover three kinds of answers to questions, the\nnecessary, the polite, and the superfluous. For instance, if anyone\nasked, \"Is Socrates at home?\" one, as if backward and disinclined to\nanswer, might say, \"Not at home;\" or, if he wished to speak with Laconic\nbrevity, might cut off \"at home,\" and simply say \"No;\" as, when Philip\nwrote to the Lacedaemonians to ask if they would receive him in their\ncity, they sent him back merely a large \"No.\" But another would answer\nmore politely, \"He is not at home, but with the bankers,\" and if he\nwished to add a little more, \"he expects to see some strangers there.\"\nBut the superfluous prater, if he has read Antimachus of Colophon,[601]\nsays, \"He is not at home, but with the bankers, waiting for some Ionian\nstrangers, about whom he has had a letter from Alcibiades who is in the\nneighbourhood of Miletus, staying with Tissaphernes the satrap of the\ngreat king, who used long ago to favour the Lacedaemonian party, but now\nattaches himself to the Athenians for Alcibiades' sake, for Alcibiades\ndesires to return to his country, and so has succeeded in changing the\nviews of Tissaphernes.\" And then he will go over the whole of the Eighth\nBook of Thucydides, and deluge the man, till before he is aware Miletus\nis captured, and Alcibiades is in exile the second time. In such a case\nmost of all ought we to curtail talkativeness, by following the track of\na question closely, and tracing out our answer according to the need of\nthe questioner with the same accuracy as we describe a circle. When\nCarneades was disputing in the gymnasium before the days of his great\nfame, the superintendent of the gymnasium sent to him a message to bid\nhim modulate his voice (for it was of the loudest), and when he asked\nhim to fix a standard, the superintendent replied not amiss, \"The\nstandard of the person talking with you.\" So the meaning of the\nquestioner ought to be the standard for the answer.\n\nSec. XXII. Moreover as Socrates urged his disciples to abstain from such\nfood as tempted them to eat when they were not hungry, and from such\ndrinks as tempted them to drink when they were not thirsty, so the\ntalkative person ought to be afraid most of such subjects of\nconversation as he most delights in and repeats _ad nauseam_, and to try\nand resist their influence. For example, soldiers are fond of\ndescriptions about war, and thus Homer introduces Nestor frequently\nnarrating his prowess and glorious deeds. And generally speaking those\nwho have been successful in the law courts, or beyond their hopes been\nfavourites of kings and princes, are possessed, as it were by some\ndisease, with the itch for frequently recalling and narrating, how they\ngot on and were advanced, what struggles they underwent, how they argued\non some famous occasion, how they won the day either as plaintiffs or\ndefendants, what panegyrics were showered upon them. For joy is much\nmore inclined to prate than the well-known sleeplessness represented in\ncomedies, frequently rousing itself, and finding something fresh to\nrelate. And so at any excuse they slip into such narratives. For not\nonly,\n\n  \"Where anyone does itch, there goes his hand,\"[602]\n\nbut also delight has a voice of its own, and leads about the tongue in\nits train, ever wishing to fortify it with memory. Thus lovers spend\nmost of their time in conversations that revive the memory of their\nloves; and if they cannot talk to human beings about them, they talk\nabout them to inanimate objects, as, \"O dearest bed,\" and,\n\n  \"O happy lamp, Bacchis deems you a god,\n   And if she thinks so, then you are indeed\n   The greatest of the gods.\"\n\nThe talkative person therefore is merely as regards words a white\nline,[603] but he that is especially inclined to certain subjects should\nbe especially on his guard against talking about them, and should avoid\nsuch topics, since from the pleasure they give him they may entice him\nto be very prolix and tedious. The same is the case with people in\nregard to such subjects as they think they are more experienced in and\nacquainted with than others. For such a one, being self-appreciative and\nfond of fame, \"spends most of the day in that particular branch of study\nin which he chances to be proficient.\"[604] Thus he that is fond of\nreading will give his time to research; the grammarian his to syntax;\nand the traveller, who has wandered over many countries, his to\ngeography. We must therefore be on our guard against our favourite\ntopics, for they are an enticement to talkativeness, as its wonted\nhaunts are to an animal. Admirable therefore was the behaviour of Cyrus\nin challenging his companions, not to those contests in which he was\nsuperior to them, but to those in which he was inferior, partly that he\nmight not give them pain through his superiority, partly for his own\nbenefit by learning from them. But the talkative person acts just\ncontrary, for if any subject is introduced from which he might learn\nsomething he did not know, this he rejects and refuses, not being able\nto earn a good deal by a short silence,[605] but he rambles round the\nsubject and babbles out stale and commonplace rhapsodies. As one amongst\nus, who by chance had read two or three of the books of Ephorus,[606]\nbored everybody, and dispersed every social party, by always narrating\nthe particulars of the battle of Leuctra and its consequences, so that\nhe got nicknamed Epaminondas.\n\nSec. XXIII. Nevertheless this is one of the least of the evils of\ntalkativeness, and we ought even to try and divert it into such channels\nas these, for prating is less of a nuisance when it is on some literary\nsubject. We ought also to try and get some persons to write on some\ntopic, and so discuss it by themselves. For Antipater the Stoic\nphilosopher,[607] not being able or willing it seems to dispute with\nCarneades, who inveighed vehemently against the Stoic philosophy,\nwriting and filling many books of controversy against him, got the\nnickname of _Noisy-with-the-pen_; and perhaps the exercise and\nexcitement of writing, keeping him very much apart from the community,\nmight make the talkative man by degrees better company to those he\nassociated with; as dogs, bestowing their rage on sticks and stones, are\nless savage to men. It will also be very advantageous for such to mix\nwith people better and older than themselves, for they will accustom\nthemselves to be silent by standing in awe of their reputation. And\nwithal it will be well, when we are going to say something, and the\nwords are on our lips, to reflect and consider, \"What is this word that\nis so eager for utterance? To what is this tongue marching? What good\nwill come of speaking now, or what harm of silence?\" For we ought not to\ndrop words as we should a burden that pressed upon us, for the word\nremains still after it has been spoken just the same; but men speak\neither on their own behalf if they want something, or to benefit those\nthat hear them, or, to gratify one another, they season everyday life\nwith speech, as one seasons food with salt. But if words are neither\nuseful to the speaker, nor necessary for the hearer, nor contain any\npleasure or charm, why are they spoken? For words may be idle and\nuseless as well as deeds. And besides all this we must ever remember as\nmost important the dictum of Simonides, that he had often repented he\nhad spoken, but never that he had been silent: while as to the power and\nstrength of practice consider how men by much toil and painstaking will\nget rid even of a cough or hiccough. And silence is not only never\nthirsty, as Hippocrates says, but also never brings pain or sorrow.\n\n    [541] Or _Garrulity_, _Chattering_, _Prating_. It is\n    Talkativeness in a bad sense.\n\n    [542] Or _Heptaphonos_. See Pausanias, v. 21.\n\n    [543] Some unknown poet's words. I suppose they mean\n    driving one mad, making one \"Like sweet bells jangled,\n    out of tune and harsh.\"\n\n    [544] So our English proverb, \"Empty vessels make the\n    greatest sound.\"\n\n    [545] Literally in a semi-circular place. It is not\n    quite clear whether the front seats of the theatre are\n    meant, or, as I have taken it, more generally, of some\n    public place for entertainment or meeting, some\n    promenade or piazza.\n\n    [546] Reading [Greek: akouein], which seems far the best\n    reading.\n\n    [547] Homer, \"Iliad,\" v. 226; \"Odyssey,\" vi. 81.\n\n    [548] \"Bacchae,\" 385-387.\n\n    [549] See Ovid, \"Tristia,\" iv. 4, 55-58.\n\n    [550] For example, Horace, \"Epistles,\" i. 2, 62: \"Ira\n    furor brevis est\" I read [Greek: homotoichos] with Mez.\n\n    [551] Homer, \"Odyssey,\" xiv. 463-465.\n\n    [552] Ibid. 466.\n\n    [553] Compare the German proverb, \"Thought when sober,\n    said when drunk\"--\"Nuchtern gedacht, voll gesagt.\"\n\n    [554] Cf. Quintilian, x. 1, 78: \"His aetate Lysias major,\n    subtilis atque elegans et quo nihil, si oratori satis\n    est docere, quaeras perfectius. Nihil enim est inane,\n    nihil arcessitum; puro tamen fonti quam magno flumini\n    propior.\" Cf. ix. 4, 17.\n\n    [555] Somewhat like Pindar, \"Pyth.\" i. 1. 1, 2.\n\n    [556] \"Odyssey,\" xii. 452, 453.\n\n    [557] See Cicero, \"Ad Fam.\" vii. 18; Catullus, xxii. 5,\n    6.\n\n    [558] See \"Iliad,\" xiv. 214-217.\n\n    [559] \"Allusio ad Homericum [Greek: epei ponos allos\n    epeigei.]\"--_Xylander._\n\n    [560] \"Laws,\" xi. p. 935 A.\n\n    [561] So true are the words of AEschylus, [Greek: glosse\n    mataia zemia prostribetai].--\"Prom.\" 329.\n\n    [562] Our \"A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.\"\n\n    [563] \"Non Citticus, sed Eleates. v. Cic. Tuscul. ii.\n    22, et Nat. Deor. 3, 33.\"--_Reiske._\n\n    [564] See Pausanias, i. 23. Leaena means \"lioness.\" On\n    the conspiracy see Thucydides, vi. 54-59.\n\n    [565] Homer, \"Odyssey,\" xix. 494. Plutarch quotes from\n    memory. The nurse's name was Euryclea.\n\n    [566] Odyssey,\" xix. 210-212. Quoted again \"On Moral\n    Virtue,\" Sec. iv.\n\n    [567] Literally _bark_. See \"Odyssey,\" xx. 13, 16.\n\n    [568] \"Odyssey,\" xx. 23.\n\n    [569] See \"Odyssey,\" ix. [Greek: Kyklopeia].\n\n    [570] Euripides, \"Ino.\" Fragment, 416.\n\n    [571] \"Significat Q. Caecilium Metellum, de quo Liv. xl.\n    45, 46.\"--_Reiske._\n\n    [572] Euripides, \"Ino.\" Fragm. 415. Compare St. James,\n    iii. 5, 6.\n\n    [573] Fabius Maximus. So Tacitus, \"Annals,\" i. 5, who\n    relates this story somewhat differently.\n\n    [574] See Tacitus, \"Annals,\" i. 3. As to his fate, see\n    \"Annals,\" i. 6.\n\n    [575] Tiberius Nero, who actually did succeed Augustus.\n\n    [576] The Emperor's wife.\n\n    [577] So it is in Sec. xii. But perhaps here it means, \"I\n    wish you had more sense, Fabius!\"\n\n    [578] Adopting the reading of Reiske.\n\n    [579] Reading [Greek: phorutou] or [Greek: phoryton], as\n    Wyttenbach.\n\n    [580] Reading [Greek: katechein dynantai] with Reiske.\n\n    [581] See Sophocles, Fragm. 162.\n\n    [582] Homer, \"Iliad,\" x. 457.\n\n    [583] Compare \"Moralia,\" p. 177 A; Horace, \"Satires,\" i.\n    7. 3: \"Omnibus et lippis notum et tonsoribus.\"\n\n    [584] Homer, \"Iliad,\" xxii. 207.\n\n    [585] Sophocles, \"Antigone,\" 317-319.\n\n    [586] See Pausanias, iii. 17; iv. 15; x. 5.\n\n    [587] Compare the idea of the people of Melita, Acts\n    xxviii. 4.\n\n    [588] An Allusion to Dolon in Homer, \"Iliad,\" x., 374,\n    sq. according to Xylander.\n\n    [589] Quoted again by our author in his \"Publicola,\" p.\n    105 B., and assigned to Epicharmus.\n\n    [590] So Shakspere has taught us, \"Brevity is the soul\n    of wit.\"--_Hamlet_, Act ii Sc. 2.\n\n    [591] \"In Protagora.\"--_Xylander._\n\n    [592] That is, is all kernel. See passim our author's\n    \"Apophthegmata Laconica.\"\n\n    [593] Or, _apophthegmatic nature_.\n\n    [594] Dionysius the younger, tyrant of Syracuse, was\n    expelled, and afterwards kept a school at Corinth. That\n    is the allusion. It would be like saying \"Remember\n    Napoleon at St. Helena.\"\n\n    [595] See Pausanias, x. 24.\n\n    [596] See Plato, \"Charmides,\" 165 A.\n\n    [597] A title applied to Apollo first by Herodotus, i.\n    91, from his ambiguous ([Greek: loxa]) oracles.\n\n    [598] Part of the words of an oracle of the Pythian\n    Priestess, slightly changed. The whole oracle may be\n    seen in Herodotus, i. 47.\n\n    [599] Proverb of cross purposes.\n\n    [600] Reading [Greek: exerasthai] with Duebner.\n\n    [601] Catullus calls him \"tumidus,\" _i.e._ long-winded,\n    95, 10. See also Propertius, iii. 34-32. He was a Greek\n    poet, a contemporary of Socrates and Plato, and author\n    of a Thebaid. Pausanias mentions him, viii. 25; ix. 35.\n\n    [602] The mediaeval proverb, _Ubi dolor ibi digitus_.\n\n    [603] A proverbial expression for having no judgment.\n    See Sophocles, Fragm. 307; Plato, \"Charmides,\" 154 B;\n    Erasmus, \"Adagia.\" So we say a person's mind is a blank\n    sheet on a subject he knows nothing about.\n\n    [604] Euripides, Fragm. 202. Quoted also by Plato,\n    \"Gorgias,\" 484 E.\n\n    [605] Reading with Reiske, [Greek: misthon auto dounai\n    to mikron siopesai me dynamenos].\n\n    [606] A celebrated Greek historian, and pupil of\n    Isocrates. See Cicero, \"De Oratore,\" ii. 13.\n\n    [607] Of Tarsus. See Cicero, \"De Officiis,\" iii. 12.\n\n\n\n\nON CURIOSITY.[608]\n\n\nSec. I. If a house is dark, or has little air, is in an exposed position,\nor unhealthy, the best thing will probably be to leave it; but if one is\nattached to it from long residence in it, one can improve it and make it\nmore light and airy and healthy by altering the position of the windows\nand stairs, and by throwing open new doors and shutting up old ones. So\nsome towns have been altered for the better, as my native place,[609]\nwhich did lie to the west and received the rays of the setting sun from\nParnassus, was they say turned to the east by Chaeron. And Empedocles the\nnaturalist is supposed to have driven away the pestilence from that\ndistrict, by having closed up a mountain gorge that was prejudicial to\nhealth by admitting the south wind to the plains. Similarly, as there\nare certain diseases of the soul that are injurious and harmful and\nbring storm and darkness to it, the best thing will be to eject them and\nlay them low by giving them open sky, pure air and light, or, if that\ncannot be, to change and improve them some way or other. One such mental\ndisease, that immediately suggests itself to one, is curiosity, the\ndesire to know other people's troubles, a disease that seems neither\nfree from envy nor malignity.\n\n  \"Malignant wretch, why art so keen to mark\n   Thy neighbour's fault, and seest not thine own?\"[610]\n\nShift your view, and turn your curiosity so as to look inwards: if you\ndelight to study the history of evils, you have copious material at\nhome, \"as much as there is water in the Alizon, or leaves on the oak,\"\nsuch a quantity of faults will you find in your own life, and passions\nin your soul, and shortcomings in your duty. For as Xenophon says[611]\ngood managers have one place for the vessels they use in sacrificing,\nand another for those they use at meals, one place for their farm\ninstruments, and another for their weapons of war, so your faults arise\nfrom different causes, some from envy, some from jealousy, some from\ncowardice, some from meanness. Review these, consider these; bar up the\ncuriosity that pries into your neighbours' windows and passages, and\nopen it on the men's apartments, and women's apartments, and servant's\nattics, in your own house. There this inquisitiveness and curiosity will\nfind full vent, in inquiries that will not be useless or malicious, but\nadvantageous and serviceable, each one saying to himself,\n\n  \"What have I done amiss? What have I done?\n   What that I ought to have done left undone?\"\n\nSec. II. And now, as they say of Lamia that she is blind when she sleeps at\nhome, for she puts her eyes on her dressing-table, but when she goes out\nshe puts her eyes on again, and has good sight, so each of us turns,\nlike an eye, our malicious curiosity out of doors and on others, while\nwe are frequently blind and ignorant about our own faults and vices, not\napplying to them our eyes and light. So that the curious man is more use\nto his enemies than to himself, for he finds fault with and exposes\ntheir shortcomings, and shows them what they ought to avoid and correct,\nwhile he neglects most of his affairs at home, owing to his excitement\nabout things abroad. Odysseus indeed would not converse with his mother\ntill he had learnt from the seer Tiresias what he went to Hades to\nlearn; and after receiving that information, then he turned to her, and\nasked questions about the other women, who Tyro was, and who the fair\nChloris, and why Epicaste[612] had died, \"having fastened a noose with a\nlong drop to the lofty beam.\"[613] But we, while very remiss and\nignorant and careless about ourselves, know all about the pedigrees of\nother people, that our neighbour's grandfather was a Syrian, and his\ngrandmother a Thracian woman, and that such a one owes three talents,\nand has not paid the interest. We even inquire into such trifling\nmatters as where somebody's wife has been, and what those two are\ntalking in the corner about. But Socrates used to busy himself in\nexamining the secret of Pythagoras' persuasive oratory, and Aristippus,\nmeeting Ischomachus at the Olympian games, asked him how Socrates\nconversed so as to have so much influence over the young men, and having\nreceived from him a few scraps and samples of his style, was so\nenthusiastic about it that he wasted away, and became quite pale and\nlean, thirsty and parched, till he sailed to Athens and drew from the\nfountain-head, and knew the wonderful man himself and his speeches and\nphilosophy, the object of which was that men should recognize their\nfaults and so get rid of them.\n\nSec. III. But some men cannot bear to look upon their own life, so unlovely\na spectacle is it, nor to throw and flash on themselves, like a lantern,\nthe reflection of reason; but their soul being burdened with all manner\nof vices, and dreading and shuddering at its own interior, sallies forth\nand wanders abroad, feeding and fattening its malignity there. For as a\nhen, when its food stands near its coop,[614] will frequently slip off\ninto a corner and scratch up,\n\n  \"Where I ween some poor little grain appears on the dunghill,\"\n\nso curious people neglecting conversation or inquiry about common\nmatters, such as no one would try and prevent or be indignant at their\nprying into, pick out the secret and hidden troubles of every family.\nAnd yet that was a witty answer of the Egyptian, to the person who asked\nhim, \"What he was carrying wrapped up;\" \"It was wrapped up on purpose\nthat you should not know.\" And you too, Sir, I would say to a curious\nperson, why do you pry into what is hidden? If it were not something bad\nit would not be hidden. Indeed it is not usual to go into a strange\nhouse without knocking at the door, and nowadays there are porters, but\nin old times there were knockers on doors to let the people inside know\nwhen anyone called, that a stranger might not find the mistress or\ndaughter of the house _en deshabille_, or one of the slaves being\ncorrected, or the maids bawling out. But the curious person intrudes on\nall such occasions as these, although he would be unwilling to be a\nspectator, even if invited, of a well-ordered family: but the things for\nwhich bars and bolts and doors are required, these he reveals and\ndivulges openly to others. Those are the most troublesome winds, as\nAristo says, that blow up our clothes: but the curious person not only\nstrips off the garments and clothes of his neighbours, but breaks\nthrough their walls, opens their doors, and like the wanton wind, that\ninsinuates itself into maidenly reserve, he pries into and calumniates\ndances and routs and revels.\n\nSec. IV. And as Cleon is satirized in the play[615] as having \"his hands\namong the AEtolians, but his soul in Peculation-town,\" so the soul of the\ncurious man is at once in the mansions of the rich, and the cottages of\nthe poor, and the courts of kings, and the bridal chambers of the newly\nmarried; he pries into everything, the affairs of foreigners, the\naffairs of princes, and sometimes not without danger. For just as if one\nwere to taste aconite to investigate its properties, and kill oneself\nbefore one had discovered them, so those that pry into the troubles of\ngreat people ruin themselves before they get the knowledge they desire;\neven as those become blind who, neglecting the wide and general\ndiffusion all over the earth of the sun's rays, impudently attempt to\ngaze at its orb and penetrate to its light. And so that was a wise\nanswer of Philippides the Comic Poet, when King Lysimachus asked him on\none occasion, \"What would you like to have of mine?\" \"Anything, O king,\nbut your secrets.\" For the pleasantest and finest things to be got from\nkings are public, as banquets, and riches, and festivities, and favours:\nbut come not near any secret of theirs, pry not into it. There is no\nconcealment of the joy of a prosperous monarch, or of his laugh when he\nis in a playful mood, or of any tokens of his goodwill and favour; but\ndreadful is what he conceals, his gloominess, his sternness, his\nreserve, his store of latent wrath, his meditation on stern revenge, his\njealousy of his wife, or suspicion of his son, or doubt about the\nfidelity of a friend. Flee from this cloud that is so black and\nthreatening, for when its hidden fury bursts forth, you will not fail to\nhear its thunder and see its lightning.\n\nSec. V. How shall you flee from it? Why, by dissipating and distracting\nyour curiosity, by turning your soul to better and pleasanter objects:\nexamine the phenomena of sky, and earth, and air, and sea. Are you by\nnature fond of gazing at little or great things? If at great, turn your\nattention to the sun, consider its rising and setting: view the changes\nof the moon, like the changes of our mortal life, see how it waxes and\nwanes,\n\n  \"How at the first it peers out small and dim\n   Till it unfolds its full and glorious Orb,\n   And when its zenith it has once attained,\n   Again it wanes, grows small, and disappears.\"[616]\n\nThese are indeed Nature's secrets, but they bring no trouble on those\nthat study them. But if you decline the study of great things, inspect\nwith curiosity smaller matters, see how some plants flourish, are green\nand gay, and exhibit their beauty, all the year round, while others are\nsometimes gay like them, at other times, like some unthrift, run through\ntheir resources entirely, and are left bare and naked. Consider again\ntheir various shapes, how some produce oblong fruits, others angular,\nothers smooth and round. But perhaps you will not care to pry into all\nthis, since you will find nothing bad. If you must then ever bestow your\ntime and attention on what is bad, as the serpent lives but in deadly\nmatter, go to history, and turn your eye on the sum total of human\nmisery. For there you will find \"the falls of men, and murders of their\nlives,\"[617] rapes of women, attacks of slaves, treachery of friends,\nmixing of poisons, envyings, jealousies, \"shipwrecks of families,\" and\ndethroning of princes. Sate and cloy yourself on these, you will by so\ndoing vex and enrage none of your associates.\n\nSec. VI. But it seems curiosity does not rejoice in stale evils, but only\nin fresh and recent ones, gladly viewing the spectacle of tragedies of\nyesterday, but backward in taking part in comic and festive scenes. And\nso the curious person is a languid and listless hearer to the narrator\nof a marriage, or sacrifice, or solemn procession, he says he has heard\nmost of all that before, bids the narrator cut it short and come to the\npoint; but if his visitor tell him of the violation of some girl, or the\nadultery of some married woman, or the disputes and intended litigation\nof brothers, he doesn't go to sleep then, nor pretend want of leisure,\n\n  \"But he pricks up his ears, and asks for more.\"\n\nAnd indeed those lines,\n\n  \"Alas! how quicker far to mortals' ears\n   Do ill news travel than the news of good!\"\n\nare truly said of curious people. For as cupping-glasses take away the\nworst blood, so the ears of curious people attract only the worst\nreports; or rather, as cities have certain ominous and gloomy gates,\nthrough which they conduct only condemned criminals, or convey filth and\nnight soil, for nothing pure or holy has either ingress into or egress\nfrom them, so into the ears of curious people goes nothing good or\nelegant, but tales of murders travel and lodge there, wafting a whiff of\nunholy and obscene narrations.\n\n  \"And ever in my house is heard alone\n   The sound of wailing;\"\n\nthis is to the curious their one Muse and Siren, this the sweetest note\nthey can hear. For curiosity desires to know what is hidden and secret;\nbut no one conceals his good fortune, nay sometimes people even pretend\nto have such advantages as they do not really possess. So the curious\nman, eager to hear a history of what is bad, is possessed by the passion\nof malignity, which is brother to envy and jealousy. For envy is pain at\nanother's blessings, and malignity is joy at another's misfortunes: and\nboth proceed from the same savage and brutish vice, ill-nature.\n\nSec. VII. But so unpleasant is it to everybody to have his private ills\nbrought to light, that many have died rather than acquaint the doctors\nwith their secret ailments. For suppose Herophilus, or Erasistratus, or\neven AEsculapius himself during his sojourn on earth, had gone with their\ndrugs and surgical instruments from house to house, to inquire what man\nhad a fistula in ano, or what woman had a cancer in her womb;--and yet\ntheir curiosity would have been professional[618]--who would not have\ndriven them away from their house, for not waiting till they were sent\nfor, and for coming without being asked to spy out their neighbours'\nailments? But curious people pry into these and even worse matters, not\nfrom a desire to heal them, but only to expose them to others, which\nmakes them deservedly hated. For we are not vexed and mortified with\ncustom-house officers when they levy toll on goods _bona fide_ imported,\nbut only when they seek for contraband articles, and rip up bags and\npackages: and yet the law allows them to do even this, and sometimes it\nis injurious to them not to do so. But curious people abandon and\nneglect their own affairs, and are busy about their neighbours'\nconcerns. Seldom do they go into the country, for they do not care for\nits quiet and stillness and solitude, but if once in a way they do go\nthere, they look more at their neighbours' vines than their own, and\ninquire how many cows of their neighbour have died, or how much of his\nwine has turned sour, and when they are satisfied on these points they\nsoon return to town again. But the genuine countryman does not willingly\nlisten to any rumour that chances to come from the town, for he quotes\nthe following lines,\n\n  \"Even with spade in hand he'll tell the terms\n   On which peace was concluded: all these things\n   The cursed fellow walks about and pries into.\"\n\nSec. VIII. But curious people shun the country as stale and dull and too\nquiet, and push into warehouses and markets and harbours, asking, \"Any\nnews? Were you not in the market in the forenoon?\" and sometimes\nreceiving for answer, \"What then? Do you think things in the town change\nevery three hours?\" Notwithstanding if anyone brings any news, he'll get\noff his horse, and embrace him, and kiss him, and stand to listen. If\nhowever the person who meets him says he has no news, he will say\nsomewhat peevishly, \"No news, Sir? Have you not been in the market? Did\nyou not pass by the officers' quarters? Did you exchange no words with\nthose that have just arrived from Italy?\" To stop such people the\nLocrian authorities had an excellent rule; they fined everyone coming\nfrom abroad who asked what the news was. For as cooks pray for plenty of\nmeat, and fishmongers for shoals of fish, so curious people pray for\nshoals of trouble, and plenty of business, and innovations and changes,\nthat they may have something to hunt after and tittle-tattle about. Well\nalso was it in _Charondas_, the legislator of the people of Thurii,[619]\nto forbid any of the citizens but adulterers and curious persons to be\nridiculed on the stage. Adultery itself indeed seems to be only the\nfruit of curiosity about another man's pleasures, and an inquiring and\nprying into things kept close and hidden from the world; while curiosity\nis a tampering with and seduction of and revealing the nakedness of\nsecrets.[620]\n\nSec. IX. As it is likely that much learning will produce wordiness, and so\nPythagoras enjoined five years' silence on his scholars, calling it a\ntruce from words,[621] so defamation of character is sure to go with\ncuriosity. For what people are glad to hear they are glad to talk about,\nand what they eagerly pick up from others they joyfully retail to\nothers. And so, amongst the other mischiefs of curiosity, the disease\nruns counter to their desires; for all people fight shy of them, and\nconceal their affairs from them, and neither care to do or say anything\nin their presence, but defer consultations, and put off investigations,\ntill such people are out of the way; and if, when some secret is just\nabout to be uttered, or some important business is just about to be\narranged, some curious man happen to pop in, they are mum at once and\nreserved, as one puts away fish if the cat is about; and so frequently\nthings seen and talked about by all the rest of the world are unknown\nonly to them. For the same reason the curious person never gets the\nconfidence of anybody. For we would rather entrust our letters and\npapers and seals to slaves and strangers than to curious friends and\nintimates. The famous Bellerophon,[622] though he carried letters\nagainst his life, opened them not, but abstained from reading the letter\nto the king, as he had refused to sell his honour to Proetus' wife, so\ngreat was his continence.[623] For curiosity and adultery both come from\nincontinence, and to the latter is added monstrous folly and insanity.\nFor to pass by so many common and public women, and to intrude oneself\non some married woman,[624] who is sure to be more costly, and possibly\nless pretty to boot, is the acme of madness. Yet such is the conduct of\ncurious people. They neglect many gay sights, fail to hear much that\nwould be well worth hearing, lose much fine sport and pastime, to break\nopen private letters, to put their ears to their neighbour's walls, and\nto whisper to their slaves and women-servants, practices always low, and\nfrequently dangerous.\n\nSec. X. It will be exceedingly useful, therefore, to deter the curious from\nthese propensities, for them to remember their past experience.\nSimonides used to say that he occasionally opened two chests for rewards\nand thanks that he had by him, and found the one full for rewards, but\nthe one for thanks always empty.[625] So if anyone were to open\noccasionally the stores that curiosity had amassed, and observe what a\ncargo there was of useless and idle and unlovely things, perhaps the\nsight of all this poor stuff would inspire him with disgust. Suppose\nsomeone, in studying the writings of the ancients, were to pick out only\ntheir worst passages, and compile them into a volume, as Homer's\nimperfect lines, and the solecisms of the tragedians, and Archilochus'\nindecent and bitter railings against women, by which he so exposed\nhimself, would he not be worthy of the curse of the tragedian,\n\n  \"Perish, compiler of thy neighbours' ills?\"\n\nAnd independently of such a curse, the piling up of other people's\nmisdoings is indecent and useless, and like the town which Philip\nfounded and filled with the vilest and most dissolute wretches, and\ncalled _Rogue Town_. Curious persons, indeed, making a collection of the\nfaults and errors and solecisms, not of lines or poems but of people's\nlives, render their memory a most inelegant and unlovely register of\ndark deeds. Just as there are in Rome some people who care nothing for\npictures and statues, or even handsome boys or women exposed for sale,\nbut haunt the monster-market, and make eager inquiries about people who\nhave no calves, or three eyes, or arms like weasels, or heads like\nostriches, and look about for some\n\n  \"Unnatural monster like the Minotaur,\"[626]\n\nand for a time are greatly captivated with them, but if anyone\ncontinually gazes at such sights, they will soon give him satiety and\ndisgust; so let those who curiously inquire into the errors and faults\nof life, and disgraces of families, and disorders in other people's\nhouses, first remember what little favour or advantage such prying has\nbrought them on previous occasions.\n\nSec. XI. Habit will be of the utmost importance in stopping this\npropensity, if we begin early to practise self-control in respect to it,\nfor as the disease increases by habit and degrees, so will its cure, as\nwe shall see when we discuss the necessary discipline. In the first\nplace, let us begin with the most trifling and unimportant matters. What\nhardship will it be when we walk abroad not to read the epitaphs on\ngraves, or what detriment shall we suffer by not glancing at the\ninscriptions on walls in the public walks? Let us reflect that there is\nnothing useful or pleasant for us in these notices, which only record\nthat so-and-so remembered so-and-so out of gratitude, and, \"Here lies\nthe best of friends,\" and much poor stuff of that kind;[627] which\nindeed do not seem to do much harm, except indirectly, to those that\nread them, by engendering the practice of curiosity about things\nimmaterial. And as huntsmen do not allow the hounds to follow any scent\nand run where they please, but check and restrain them in leashes,\nkeeping their sense of smell pure and fresh for the object of their\nchase, that they may the keener dart on their tracks, \"following up the\ntraces of the unfortunate beasts by their scent,\" so we must check and\nrepress the sallies and excursions of the curious man to every object of\ninterest, whether of sight or hearing, and confine him to what is\nuseful. For as eagles and lions on the prowl keep their claws sheathed\nthat they may not lose their edge and sharpness, so, when we remember\nthat curiosity for learning has also its edge and keenness, let us not\nentirely expend or blunt it on inferior objects.\n\nSec. XII. Next let us accustom ourselves when we pass a strange house not\nto look inside at the door, or curiously inspect the interior, as if we\nwere going to pilfer something, remembering always that saying of\nXenocrates, that it is all one whether one puts one's feet or eyes in\nanother person's house. For such prying is neither honourable, nor\ncomely, nor even agreeable.\n\n  \"Stranger, thou'lt see within untoward sights.\"\n\nFor such is generally the condition inside houses, utensils kicking\nabout, maids lolling about, no work going on, nothing to please the eye;\nand moreover such side glances, and stray shots as it were, distort the\nsoul, and are unhandsome, and the practice is a pernicious one. When\nDiogenes saw Dioxippus, a victor at Olympia, driving up in his chariot\nand unable to take his eyes off a handsome woman who was watching the\nprocession, but still turning round and casting sheep's eyes at her, he\nsaid, \"See you yon athlete straining his neck to look at a girl?\" And\nsimilarly you may see curious people twisting and straining their necks\nat every spectacle alike, from the habit and practice of turning their\neyes in all directions. And I think the senses ought not to rove about,\nlike an ill-trained maid, when sent on an errand by the soul, but to do\ntheir business, and then return quickly with the answer, and afterwards\nto keep within the bounds of reason, and obey her behests. But it is\nlike those lines of Sophocles,\n\n  \"Then did the AEnianian's horses bolt,\n   Unmanageable quite;\"[628]\n\nfor so the senses not having, as we said, right training and practice,\noften run away, and drag reason along with them, and plunge her into\nunlawful excesses. And so, though that story about Democritus is false,\nthat he purposely destroyed his eyesight by the reflection from\nburning-glasses (as people sometimes shut up windows that look into the\nstreet), that they might not disturb him by frequently calling off his\nattention to external things, but allow him to confine himself to purely\nintellectual matters, yet it is very true in every case that those who\nuse the mind most are least acted upon by the senses. And so the\nphilosophers erected their places for study as far as possible from\ntowns, and called Night the time propitious to thought,[629] thinking\nquiet and withdrawal from worldly distractions a great help towards\nmeditating upon and solving the problems of life.\n\nSec. XIII. Moreover, when men are abusing and reviling one another in the\nmarket-place, it is not very difficult or tiresome not to go near them;\nor if a tumultuous concourse of people crowd together, to remain seated;\nor to get up and go away, if you are not master of yourself. For you\nwill gain no advantage by mixing yourself up with curious people: but\nyou will derive the greatest benefit from putting a force upon your\ninclinations, and bridling your curiosity, and accustoming it to obey\nreason. Afterwards it will be well to extend the practice still further,\nand not to go to the theatre when some fine piece is performing, and if\nyour friends invite you to see some dancer or actor to decline, and, if\nthere is some shouting in the stadium and hippodrome, not even to turn\nyour head to look what is up. For as Socrates advised people to abstain\nfrom food that made them eat when they were not hungry, and from drinks\nthat made them drink when they were not thirsty, so ought we also to\nshun and flee from those objects of interest, whether to eye or ear,\nthat master us and attract us when we stand in no need of them. Thus\nCyrus would not look at Panthea, but when Araspes told him that her\nbeauty was well worth inspection, he replied, \"For that very reason must\nI the more abstain from seeing her, for if at your persuasion I were to\npay her a visit, perhaps she would persuade me to visit her again when I\ncould ill spare the time, so that I might neglect important business to\nsit with her and gaze on her charms.\"[630] Similarly Alexander would not\nsee the wife of Darius, who was reputed to be very beautiful, but\nvisited her mother who was old, and would not venture to look upon the\nyoung and handsome queen. We on the contrary peep into women's litters,\nand hang about their windows, and think we do no harm, though we thus\nmake our curiosity a loop-hole[631] for all manner of vice.\n\nSec. XIV. Moreover, as it is of great help to fair dealing sometimes not to\nseize some honest gain, that you may accustom yourself as far as\npossible to flee from unjust gains, and as it makes greatly for virtue\nto abstain sometimes from your own wife, that you may not ever be\ntempted by another woman, so, applying the habit to curiosity, try not\nto see and hear at times all that goes on in your own house even, and if\nanyone wishes to tell you anything about it give him the go-by, and\ndecline to hear him. For it was nothing but his curiosity that involved\nOedipus in his extreme calamities: for it was to try and find out his\nextraction that he left Corinth and met Laius, and killed him, and got\nhis kingdom, and married his own mother, and when he then seemed at the\nacme of felicity, he must needs make further inquiries about himself;\nand though his wife tried to prevent him, he none the less compelled the\nold man that had been an eye-witness of the deed to tell him all the\ncircumstances of it, and though he long suspected how the story would\nend, yet when the old man cried out,\n\n  \"Alas! the dreadful tale I must then tell,\"\n\nso inflamed was he with curiosity and trembling with impatience, that he\nreplied,\n\n  \"I too must hear, for hear it now I will.\"[632]\n\nSo bitter-sweet and uncontrollable is the itch of curiosity, like a\nsore, shedding its blood when lanced. But he that is free from this\ndisease, and calm by nature, being ignorant of many unpleasant things,\nmay say,\n\n  \"Holy oblivion of all human ills,\n   What wisdom dost thou bring!\"[633]\n\nSec. XV. We ought therefore also to accustom ourselves, when we receive a\nletter, not to be in a tremendous hurry about breaking the seal, as most\npeople are, even tearing it open with their teeth if their hands are\nslow; nor to rise from our seat and run up to meet him, if a messenger\ncomes; and if a friend says, \"I have some news to tell you,\" we ought to\nsay, \"I had rather you had something useful or advantageous to tell me.\"\nWhen I was on one occasion lecturing at Rome, one of my audience was the\nwell-known Rusticus, whom the Emperor Domitian afterwards had put to\ndeath through envy of his glory, and a soldier came in in the middle and\nbrought him a letter from the Emperor, and silence ensuing, and I\nstopping that he might have time to read his letter, he would not, and\ndid not open it till I had finished my lecture, and the audience had\ndispersed; so that everybody marvelled at his self-control. But whenever\nanyone who has power feeds his curiosity till it is strong and vehement,\nhe can no longer easily control it, when it hurries him on to illicit\nacts, from force of habit; and such people open their friends' letters,\nthrust themselves in at private meetings, become spectators of rites\nthey ought not to witness, enter holy grounds they ought not to, and pry\ninto the lives and conversations of kings.\n\nSec. XVI. Indeed tyrants themselves, who must know all things, are made\nunpopular by no class more than by their spies[634] and talebearers.\nDarius in his youth, when he mistrusted his own powers, and suspected\nand feared everybody, was the first who employed spies; and the\nDionysiuses introduced them at Syracuse: but in a revolution they were\nthe first that the Syracusans took and tortured to death. Indeed\ninformers are of the same tribe and family as curious people. However\ninformers only investigate wicked acts or plots, but curious people pry\ninto and publish abroad the involuntary misfortunes of their neighbours.\nAnd it is said that impious people first got their name from curiosity,\nfor it seems there was a mighty famine at Athens, and those people that\nhad wheat not producing it, but grinding it stealthily by night in their\nhouses, some of their neighbours went about and noticed the noise of the\nmills grinding, and so they got their name.[635] This also is the origin\nof the well-known Greek word for informer, (Sycophant, _quasi_\nFig-informer), for when the people were forbidden to export figs, those\nwho informed against those who did were called Fig-informers. It is well\nworth the while of curious people to give their attention to this, that\nthey may be ashamed of having any similarity or connection in habit with\na class of people so universally hated and disliked as informers.\n\n    [608] Jeremy Taylor has largely borrowed from this\n    Treatise in his \"Holy Living,\" chap. ii. Sec. v. Of\n    Modesty.\n\n    [609] Chaeronea in Boeotia.\n\n    [610] Lines from some comic poet, no doubt.\n\n    [611] \"Oeconomicus,\" cap. viii.\n\n    [612] The mother of Oedipus, better known as \"Jocasta.\"\n\n    [613] Homer, \"Odyssey,\" xi. 278. Epicaste hung herself.\n\n    [614] \"[Greek: oikisko] corrigit Valekenarius ad Herodot.\n    p. 557.\"--_Wyttenbach._\n\n    [615] Aristophanes, \"Equites,\" 79.\n\n    [616] Sophocles, Fragm. 713. The lines are quoted more\n    fully by our author in his \"Lives,\" p. 911. There are\n    there four preceding lines that compare human life to\n    the moon's changes.\n\n    [617] AEschylus, \"Supplices,\" 937.\n\n    [618] All three being eminent doctors.\n\n    [619] \"Intelligo Charondam.\"--_Xylander._\n\n    [620] Plutarch wants to show that curiosity and adultery\n    are really the same vice in principle. Hence his imagery\n    here. Jeremy Taylor has very beautifully dealt with this\n    passage, \"Holy Living,\" chap. ii. Sec. v. I cannot pretend\n    to his felicity of language. Thus Plutarch makes\n    adultery mere curiosity, and curiosity a sort of\n    adultery in regard to secrets. A profoundly ethical and\n    moral view. Compare Sec. ix.\n\n    [621] Compare Lucian's [Greek: echeglottia], after\n    [Greek: echecheiria] (_armistice_), _Lexiph_. 9.\n\n    [622] See the story in Homer, \"Iliad,\" vi. 155 sq.\n\n    [623] Or self-control.\n\n    [624] Literally, some woman _shut up_, or _enclosed_.\n\n    [625] See also our author's \"On those who are punished\n    by the Deity late,\" Sec. xi.\n\n    [626] See Euripides, Fragm., 389. Also Plutarch's\n    \"Theseus,\" cap. xv.\n\n    [627] Plutarch rather reminds one, in his evident\n    contempt for _Epitaphs_, of the cynic who asked, \"Where\n    are all the bad people buried?\" Where indeed?\n\n    [628] Sophocles, \"Electra,\" 724, 725.\n\n    [629] _euphrone_, a stock phrase for night, is here\n    defined.\n\n    [630] \"Historia exstat initio libri quinti\n    Cyropaediae.\"--_Reiske._\n\n    [631] Literally, \"slippery and prone to.\" For the\n    metaphor of \"slippery\" compare Horace, \"Odes,\" i. 19-8,\n    \"Et vultus nimium lubricus adspici.\"\n\n    [632] This and the line above are in Sophocles, \"Oedipus\n    Tyrannus,\" 1169, 1170.\n\n    [633] Euripides, \"Orestes,\" 213.\n\n    [634] Literally, _ears_.\n\n    [635] The paronomasia is as follows. The word for\n    impious people is supposed to mean _listeners to mills\n    grinding_.\n\n\n\n\nON SHYNESS.[636]\n\n\nSec. I. Some of the things that grow on the earth are in their nature wild\nand barren and injurious to the growth of seeds and plants, yet those\nwho till the ground consider them indications not of a bad soil but of a\nrich and fat one;[637] so also there are passions of the soul that are\nnot good, yet are as it were offshoots of a good disposition, and one\nlikely to improve with good advice. Among these I class shyness, no bad\nsign in itself, though it affords occasion to vice. For the modest\noftentimes plunge into the same excesses as the shameless, but then they\nare pained and grieved at them, and not pleased like the others. For the\nshameless person is quite apathetic at what is disgraceful, while the\nmodest person is easily affected even at the very appearance of it.\nShyness is in fact an excess of modesty. And thus it is called\nshamefacedness, because the face exhibits the changes of the mind. For\nas dejection is defined to be the grief that makes people look on the\nground, so shamefacedness is that shyness that cannot look people in the\nface. And so the orator said the shameless person had not pupils[638] in\nhis eyes but harlots. The bashful person on the other hand shows his\ndelicacy and effeminacy of soul in his countenance, and palliates his\nweakness, which exposes him to defeat at the hands of the impudent, by\nthe name of modesty. Cato used to say he was better pleased with those\nlads that blushed than with those that turned pale, rightly teaching us\nto fear censure more than labour,[639] and suspicion than danger.\nHowever we must avoid too much timidity and fear of censure, since many\nhave played the coward, and abandoned noble ventures, more from fear of\na bad name than of the dangers to be undergone, not being able to bear a\nbad reputation.\n\nSec. II. As we must not disregard their weakness, so neither again must we\npraise that rigid and stubborn insensibility, \"that recklessness and\nfrantic energy to rush anywhere, that seemed like a dog's courage in\nAnaxarchus.\"[640] But we must contrive a harmonious blending of the two,\nthat shall remove the shamelessness of pertinacity, and the weakness of\nexcessive modesty; seeing its cure is difficult, and the correction of\nsuch excesses not without danger. For as the husbandman, in rooting up\nsome wild and useless weed, at once plunges his spade vigorously into\nthe ground, and digs it up by the root, or burns it with fire, but if he\nhas to do with a vine that needs pruning, or some apple-tree, or olive,\nhe puts his hand to it very carefully, being afraid of injuring any\nsound part; so the philosopher, eradicating from the soul of the young\nman that ignoble and untractable weed, envy, or unseasonable avarice, or\namputating the excessive love of pleasure, may bandage and draw blood,\nmake deep incision, and leave scars: but if he has to apply reason as a\ncorrective to a tender and delicate part of the soul, such as shyness\nand bashfulness, he is careful that he may not inadvertently root up\nmodesty as well. For nurses who are often rubbing the dirt off their\ninfants sometimes tear their flesh and put them to torture. We ought not\ntherefore, by rubbing off the shyness of youths too much, to make them\ntoo careless and contemptuous; but as those that pull down houses close\nto temples prop up the adjacent parts, so in trying to get rid of\nshyness we must not eradicate with it the virtues akin to it, as modesty\nand meekness and mildness, by which it insinuates itself and becomes\npart of a man's character, flattering the bashful man that he has a\nnature courteous and civil and affable, and not hard as flint or\nself-willed. And so the Stoics from the outset verbally distinguished\nshame and shyness from modesty, that they might not by identity of name\ngive the vice opportunity to inflict harm. But let it be granted to us\nto use the words indiscriminately, following indeed the example of\nHomer. For he said,\n\n  \"Modesty does both harm and good to men;\"[641]\n\nand he did well to mention the harm it does first. For it becomes\nadvantageous only through reason's curtailing its excess, and reducing\nit to moderate proportions.\n\nSec. III. In the first place, then, the person who is afflicted with\nshyness ought to be persuaded that he suffers from an injurious disease,\nand that nothing injurious can be good: nor must he be wheedled and\ntickled with the praise of being called a nice and jolly fellow rather\nthan being styled lofty and dignified and just; nor, like Pegasus in\nEuripides, \"who stooped and crouched lower than he wished\"[642] to take\nup his rider Bellerophon, must he humble himself and grant whatever\nfavours are asked him, fearing to be called hard and ungentle. They say\nthat the Egyptian Bocchoris, who was by nature very severe, had an asp\nsent him by Isis, which coiled round his head, and shaded him from\nabove, that he might judge righteously. Bashfulness on the contrary,\nlike a dead weight on languid and effeminate persons, not daring to\nrefuse or contradict anybody, makes jurors deliver unjust verdicts, and\nshuts the mouth of counsellors, and makes people say and do many things\nagainst their wish; and so the most headstrong person is always master\nand lord of such, through his own impudence prevailing against their\nmodesty. So bashfulness, like soft and sloping ground, being unable to\nrepel or avert any attack, lies open to the most shameful acts and\npassions. It is a bad guardian of youth, as Brutus said he didn't think\nthat person had spent his youth well who had not learnt how to say No.\nIt is a bad duenna of the bridal bed and of women's apartments, as the\npenitent adultress in Sophocles said to her seducer,\n\n  \"You did persuade, and coax me into sin.\"[643]\n\nThus shyness, being first seduced by vice,[644] leaves its citadel\nunbarred, unfortified, and open to attack. By gifts people ensnare the\nworse natures, but by persuasion and playing upon their bashfulness\npeople often seduce even good women. I pass over the injury done to\nworldly affairs by bashfulness causing people to lend to those whose\ncredit is doubtful, and to go security against their wish, for though\nthey commend that saying, \"Be a surety, trouble is at hand,\"[645] they\ncannot apply it when business is on hand.\n\nSec. IV. It would not be easy to enumerate how many this vice has ruined.\nWhen Creon said to Medea,\n\n  \"Lady, 'tis better now to earn your hate,\n   Than through my softness afterwards to groan,\"[646]\n\nhe uttered a pregnant maxim for others; for he himself was overcome by\nhis bashfulness, and granted her one day more, and so was the undoing of\nhis family. And some, when they suspected murder or poison, have failed\nthrough it to take precautions for their safety. Thus perished Dion, not\nignorant that Callippus was plotting against him, but ashamed to be on\nhis guard against a friend and host. So Antipater, the son of Cassander,\nhaving invited Demetrius to supper, and being invited back by him for\nthe next day, was ashamed to doubt another as he had been trusted\nhimself, and went, and got his throat cut after supper. And Polysperchon\npromised Cassander for a hundred talents to murder Hercules, the son of\nAlexander by Barsine, and invited him to supper, and, as the stripling\nsuspected and feared the invitation, and pleaded as an excuse that he\nwas not very well, Polysperchon called on him, and addressed him as\nfollows, \"Imitate, my lad, your father's good-nature and kindness to his\nfriends, unless indeed you fear us as plotting against you.\" The young\nman was ashamed to refuse any longer, so he went with him, and some of\nthose at the supper-party strangled him. And so that line of\nHesiod,[647]\n\n  \"Invite your friend to supper, not your enemy,\"\n\nis not ridiculous, as some say, or stupid advice, but wise. Show no\nbashfulness in regard to an enemy, and do not suppose him trustworthy,\nthough he may seem so.[648] For if you invite you will be invited back,\nand if you entertain others you will be entertained back to your hurt,\nif you let the temper as it were of your caution be weakened by shame.\n\nSec. V. As then this disease is the cause of much mischief, we must try and\nexterminate it by assiduous effort, beginning first, as people are wont\nto do in other matters, with small and easy things. For example, if\nanyone pledge you to drink with him at a dinner when you have had\nenough, do not be bashful, or do violence to nature, but put the cup\ndown without drinking. Again, if somebody else challenge you to play at\ndice with him in your cups, be not bashful or afraid of ridicule, but\nimitate Xenophanes, who, when Lasus of Hermione called him coward\nbecause he would not play at dice with him, admitted that he was a great\ncoward and had no courage for what was ignoble. Again, if you meet with\nsome prating fellow who attacks you and sticks to you, do not be\nbashful, but get rid of him, and hasten on and pursue your undertaking.\nFor such flights and repulses, keeping you in practice in trying to\novercome your bashfulness in small matters, will prepare you for greater\noccasions. And here it is well to record a remark of Demosthenes. When\nthe Athenians were going to help Harpalus, and to war against Alexander,\nall of a sudden Philoxenus, who was Alexander's admiral, was sighted in\nthe offing. And the populace being greatly alarmed, and speechless for\nfear, Demosthenes said, \"What will they do when they see the sun, if\nthey cannot lift their eyes to face a lamp?\" And what will you do in\nimportant matters, if the king desires anything, or the people importune\nyou, if you cannot decline to drink when your friend asks you, or evade\nthe onset of some prating fellow, but allow the trifler to waste all\nyour time, from not having nerve to say, \"I will see you some other\ntime, I have no leisure now.\"[649]\n\nSec. VI. Moreover, the use and practice of restraining one's bashfulness in\nsmall and unimportant matters is advantageous also in regard to praise.\nFor example, if a friend's harper sings badly at a drinking party, or an\nactor hired at great cost murders[650] Menander, and most of the party\nclap and applaud, I find it by no means hard, or bad manners, to listen\nsilently, and not to be so illiberal as to praise contrary to one's\nconvictions. For if in such matters you are not master of yourself, what\nwill you do if your friend reads a poor poem, or parades a speech\nstupidly and ridiculously written?[651] You will praise it of course,\nand join the flatterers in loud applause. But how then will you find\nfault with your friend if he makes mistakes in business? How will you be\nable to correct him, if he acts improperly in reference to some office,\nor marriage, or the state? For I cannot indeed assent to the remark of\nPericles to his friend, who asked him to bear false witness in his\nfavour even to the extent of perjury, \"I am your friend as far as the\naltar.\" He went too far. But he that has long accustomed himself never\nto go against his convictions in praising a speaker, or clapping a\nsinger, or laughing at a dull buffoon, will never go to this length, nor\nsay to some impudent fellow in such matters, \"Swear on my behalf, bear\nfalse witness, pronounce an unjust verdict.\"\n\nSec. VII. So also we ought to refuse people that want to borrow money of\nus, from being accustomed to say No in small and easily refused matters.\nThus Archelaus, king of the Macedonians, being asked at supper for a\ngold cup by a man who thought _Receive_ the finest word in the language,\nbade a boy give it to Euripides,[652] and gazing intently on the man\nsaid to him, \"You are fit to ask, and not to receive, and he is fit to\nreceive without asking.\" Thus did he make judgement and not bashfulness\nthe arbiter of his gifts and favours. Yet we oftentimes pass over our\nfriends who are both deserving and in need, and give to others who\ncontinually and impudently importune us, not from the wish to give but\nfrom the inability to say No. So the older Antigonus, being frequently\nannoyed by Bion, said, \"Give a talent to Bion and necessity.\" Yet he was\nof all the kings most clever and ingenious at getting rid of such\nimportunity. For on one occasion, when a Cynic asked him for a drachma,\nhe replied, \"That would be too little for a king to give;\"[653] and when\nthe Cynic rejoined, \"Give me then a talent,\" he met him with, \"That\nwould be too much for a Cynic to receive.\"[654] Diogenes indeed used to\ngo round begging to the statues in the Ceramicus, and when people\nexpressed their astonishment said he was practising how to bear\nrefusals. And we must practise ourselves in small matters, and exercise\nourselves in little things, with a view to refusing people who importune\nus, or would receive from us when inconvenient, that we may be able to\navoid great miscarriages. For no one, as Demosthenes says,[655] if he\nexpends his resources on unnecessary things, will have means for\nnecessary ones. And our disgrace is greatly increased, if we are\ndeficient in what is noble, and abound in what is trivial.\n\nSec. VIII. But bashfulness is not only a bad and inconsiderate manager of\nmoney, but also in more important matters makes us reject expediency and\nreason. For when we are ill we do not call in the experienced doctor,\nbecause we stand in awe of the family one; and instead of the best\nteachers for our boys we select those that importune us;[656] and in our\nsuits at law we frequently refuse the aid of some skilled advocate, to\noblige the son of some friend or relative, and give him a chance to make\na forensic display; and lastly, you will find many so-called\nphilosophers Epicureans or Stoics, not from deliberate choice or\nconviction, but simply from bashfulness, to have the same views as their\nfriends and acquaintances. Since this is the case, let us accustom\nourselves betimes in small and everyday matters to employ no barber or\nfuller merely from bashfulness, nor to put up at a sorry inn, when a\nbetter is at hand, merely because the innkeeper has on several occasions\nbeen extra civil to us, but for the benefit of the habit to select the\nbest even in a small matter; as the Pythagoreans were careful never to\nput their left leg across the right, nor to take an even number instead\nof an odd, all other matters being indifferent. We must accustom\nourselves also, at a sacrifice or marriage or any entertainment of that\nkind, not to invite the person who greets us and runs up to meet us, but\nthe friend who is serviceable to us. For he that has thus practised and\ntrained himself will be difficult to catch tripping, nay even\nunassailable, in greater matters.\n\nSec. IX. Let so much suffice for practice. And of useful considerations the\nfirst is that which teaches and reminds us, that all passions and\nmaladies of the soul are accompanied by the very things which we think\nwe avoid through them. Thus infamy comes through too great love of fame,\nand pain comes from love of pleasure, and plenty of work to the idle,\nand to the contentious defeats and losses of lawsuits. And so too it is\nthe fate of bashfulness, in fleeing from the smoke of ill-repute, to\nthrow itself into the fire of it.[657] For the bashful, not venturing to\nsay No to those that press them hard, afterwards feel shame at just\nrebuke, and, through standing in awe of slight blame, frequently in the\nend incur open disgrace. For if a friend asks some money of them, and\nthrough bashfulness they cannot refuse, a little time after they are\ndisgraced by the facts becoming known;[658] or if they have promised to\nhelp friends in a lawsuit, they turn round and hide their diminished\nheads, and run away from fear of the other side. Many also, who have\naccepted on behalf of a daughter or sister an unprofitable offer of\nmarriage at the bidding of bashfulness, have afterwards been compelled\nto break their word, and break off the match.\n\nSec. X. He that said all the dwellers in Asia were slaves to one man\nbecause they could not say the one syllable No, spoke in jest and not in\nearnest; but bashful persons, even if they say nothing, can by raising\nor dropping their eyebrows decline many disagreeable and unpleasant acts\nof compliance. For Euripides says, \"Silence is an answer to wise\nmen,\"[659] but we stand more in need of it to inconsiderate persons, for\nwe can talk over the sensible. And indeed it is well to have at hand and\nfrequently on our lips the sayings[660] of good and famous men to quote\nto those who importune us, as that of Phocion to Antipater, \"You cannot\nhave me both as a friend and flatterer;\" or his remark to the Athenians,\nwhen they applauded him and bade him contribute to the expenses of a\nfestival, \"I am ashamed to contribute anything to you, till I have paid\nyonder person my debts to him,\" pointing out his creditor Callicles.\nFor, as Thucydides says, \"It is not disgraceful to admit one's poverty,\nbut it is very much so not to try to mend it.\"[661] But he who through\nstupidity or softness is too bashful to say to anyone that importunes\nhim,\n\n  \"Stranger, no silver white is in my caves,\"\n\nbut goes bail for him as it were through his promises,\n\n  \"Is bound by fetters not of brass but shame.\"[662]\n\nBut Persaeus,[663] when he lent a sum of money to one of his friends, had\nthe fact duly attested by a banker in the market-place, remembering\nbelike that line in Hesiod,[664]\n\n  \"E'en to a brother, smiling, bring you witness.\"\n\nAnd he wondering and saying, \"Why all these legal forms, Persaeus?\" he\nreplied, \"Ay, verily, that my money may be paid back in a friendly way,\nand that I may not have to use legal forms to get it back.\" For many, at\nfirst too bashful to see to security, have afterwards had to go to law,\nand lost their friend.[665]\n\nSec. XI. Plato again, giving Helicon of Cyzicus a letter for Dionysius,\npraised the bearer as a man of goodness and moderation, but added at the\nend of the letter, \"I write you this about a man, an animal by nature\napt to change.\" But Xenocrates, though a man of austere character, was\nprevailed upon through his bashfulness to recommend to Polysperchon by\nletter, one who was no good man as the event showed; for when the\nMacedonian welcomed him, and inquired if he wanted any money, he asked\nfor a talent, and Polysperchon gave it him, but wrote to Xenocrates\nadvising him for the future to be more careful in the choice of people\nhe recommended. But Xenocrates knew not the fellow's true character; we\non the other hand very often when we know that such and such men are\nbad, yet give them testimonials and money, doing ourselves injury, and\nnot getting any pleasure for it, as people do get in the company of\nwhores and flatterers, but being vexed and disgusted at the importunity\nthat has upset and forced our reason. For the line\n\n   \"I know that what I'm going to do is bad,\"[666]\n\nis especially applicable to people that importune us, when one is going\nto perjure oneself, or deliver an unjust verdict, or vote for a measure\nthat is inexpedient, or borrow money for someone who will never pay it\nback.\n\nSec. XII. And so repentance follows more closely upon bashfulness than upon\nany emotion, and that not afterwards, but in the very act. For we are\nvexed with ourselves when we give, and ashamed when we perjure\nourselves, and get ill-fame from our advocacies, and are put to the\nblush, when we cannot fulfil our promises. For frequently, from\ninability to say No, we promise impossibilities to persevering\napplicants, as introductions at court, and audiences with princes, from\nreluctance or want of nerve to say, \"The king does not know us, others\nhave his regard far more.\" But Lysander, when he was out of favour with\nAgesilaus, though he was thought to have very great influence with him\nowing to his great reputation, was not ashamed to dismiss suitors, and\nbid them go and pay their court to others who had more influence with\nthe king. For not to be able to do everything carries no disgrace with\nit, but to undertake and try and force your way to what you are unable\nto do, or unqualified by nature for, is in addition to the disgrace\nincurred a task full of trouble.\n\nSec. XIII. To take another element into consideration, all seemly and\nmodest requests we ought readily to comply with, not bashfully but\nheartily, whereas in injurious or unreasonable requests we ought ever to\nremember the conduct of Zeno, who, meeting a young man he knew walking\nvery quietly near a wall, and learning from him that he was trying to\nget out of the way of a friend who wanted him to perjure himself on his\nbehalf, said to him, \"O stupid fellow, what do you tell me? Is he not\nafraid or ashamed to press you to what is not right? And dare not you\nstand up boldly against him for what is right?\" For he that said\n\"villainy is no bad weapon against villainy\"[667] taught people the bad\npractice of standing on one's defence against vice by imitating it; but\nto get rid of those who shamelessly and unblushingly importune us by\ntheir own effrontery, and not to gratify the immodest in their\ndisgraceful desires through false modesty, is the right and proper\nconduct of sensible people.\n\nSec. XIV. Moreover it is no great task to resist disreputable and low and\nworthless fellows who importune you, but some send such off with a laugh\nor a jest, as Theocritus did, who, when two fellows in the public baths,\none a stranger, the other a well-known thief, wanted to borrow his\nscraper,[668] put them both off with a playful answer, \"You, sir, I\ndon't know, and you I know too well.\" And Lysimache,[669] the priestess\nof Athene Polias at Athens, when some muleteers that bore the sacred\nvessels asked her to give them a drink, answered, \"I hesitate to do so\nfrom fear that you would make a practice of it.\" And when a certain\nyoung man, the son of a distinguished officer, but himself effeminate\nand far from bold, asked Antigonus for promotion, he replied, \"With me,\nyoung man, honours are given for personal prowess, not for the prowess\nof ancestors.\"\n\nSec. XV. But if the person that importunes us be famous or a man of power,\nfor such persons are very hard to move by entreaty or to get rid of when\nthey come to sue for your vote and interest, it will not perhaps be easy\nor even necessary to behave as Cato, when quite a young man, did to\nCatulus. Catulus was in the highest repute at Rome, and at that time\nheld the office of censor, and went to Cato, who then held the office of\nquaestor, and tried to beg off someone whom he had fined, and was urgent\nand even violent in his petitions, till Cato at last lost all patience,\nand said, \"To have you, the censor, removed by my officers against your\nwill, Catulus, would not be a seemly thing for you.\" So Catulus felt\nashamed, and went off in a rage. But see whether the answers of\nAgesilaus and Themistocles are not more modest and in better form.\nAgesilaus, when he was asked by his father to pronounce sentence\ncontrary to the law, said, \"Father, I was taught by you even from my\nearliest years to obey the laws, so now I shall obey you and do nothing\ncontrary to law.\" And Themistocles, when Simonides asked him to do\nsomething unjust, replied, \"Neither would you be a good poet if your\nlines violated the laws of metre, nor should I be a good magistrate if I\ngave decisions contrary to law.\"\n\nSec. XVI. And yet it is not on account of want of metrical harmony in\nrespect to the lyre, to borrow the words of Plato, that cities quarrel\nwith cities and friends with friends, and do and suffer the worst woes,\nbut on account of deviations[670] from law and justice. And yet some,\nwho themselves pay great attention to melody and letters and measures,\ndo not think it wrong for others to neglect what is right in\nmagistracies and judicial sentences and business generally. One must\ntherefore deal with them in the following manner. Does an orator ask a\nfavour of you when you are acting as juryman, or a demagogue when you\nare sitting in council? Say you will grant his request if he first utter\na solecism, or introduce a barbarism into his speech; he will refuse\nbecause of the shame that would attach itself to him; at any rate we see\nsome that will not in a speech let two vowels come together. If again\nsome illustrious and distinguished person importune you to something\nbad, bid him come into the market-place dancing or making wry faces, and\nif he refuse you will have an opportunity to speak, and ask him which is\nmore disgraceful, to utter a solecism and make wry faces, or to violate\nthe law and one's oath, and contrary to justice to do more for a bad\nthan for a good man. Nicostratus the Argive, when Archidamus offered him\na large sum of money and any Lacedaemonian bride he chose if he would\ndeliver up Cromnum, said Archidamus could not be a descendant of\nHercules, for he travelled about and killed evil-doers, whereas\nArchidamus tried to make evil-doers of the good. In like manner, if a\nman of good repute tries to force and importune us to something bad, let\nus tell him that he is acting in an ignoble way, and not as his birth\nand virtue would warrant.\n\nSec. XVII. But in the case of people of no repute you must see whether you\ncan persuade the miser by your importunity to lend you money without a\nbond, or the proud man to yield you the better place, or the ambitious\nman to surrender some office to you when he might take it himself. For\ntruly it would seem monstrous that, while such remain firm and\ninflexible and unmoveable in their vicious propensities, we who wish to\nbe, and profess to be, men of honour and justice should be so little\nmasters of ourselves as to abandon and betray virtue. For indeed, if\nthose who importune us do it for glory and power, it is absurd that we\nshould adorn and aggrandize others only to get infamy and a bad name\nourselves; like unfair umpires in the public games, or like people\nvoting only to ingratiate themselves, and so bestowing improperly\noffices and prizes[671] and glory on others, while they rob themselves\nof respect and fair fame. And if we see that the person who importunes\nus only does so for money, does it not occur to one that it is monstrous\nto be prodigal of one's own fame and reputation merely to make somebody\nelse's purse heavier? Why the idea must occur to most people, they sin\nwith their eyes open; like people who are urged hard to toss off big\nbumpers, and grunt and groan and make wry faces, but at last do as they\nare told.\n\nSec. XVIII. Such weakness of mind is like a temperament of body equally\nsusceptible to heat and cold; for if such people are praised by those\nthat importune them they are overcome and yield at once, whereas they\nare mortally afraid of the blame and suspicions of those whose desires\nthey do not comply with. But we ought to be stout and resolute in either\ncase, neither yielding to bullying nor cajolery. Thucydides indeed tells\nus, since envy necessarily follows ability, that \"he is well advised who\nincurs envy in matters of the highest importance.\"[672] But we, thinking\nit difficult to escape envy, and seeing that it is altogether impossible\nnot to incur blame or give offence to those we live with, shall be well\nadvised if we prefer the hatred of the perverse to that of those who\nmight justly find fault with us for having iniquitously served their\nturn. And indeed we ought to be on our guard against praise from those\nwho importune us, which is sure to be altogether insincere, and not to\nresemble swine, readily allowing anyone that presses to make use of us\nfrom our pleasure at itching and tickling, and submitting ourselves to\ntheir will. For those that give their ears to flatterers differ not a\nwhit from such as let themselves be tripped up at wrestling, only their\noverthrow and fall is more disgraceful; some forbearing hostility and\nreproof in the case of bad men, that they may be called merciful and\nhumane and compassionate; and others on the contrary persuaded to take\nup unnecessary and dangerous animosities and charges by those who praise\nthem as the only men, the only people that never flatter, and go so far\nas to entitle them their mouthpieces and voices. Accordingly Bio[673]\ncompared such people to jars, that you could easily take by the ears and\nturn about at your will. Thus it is recorded that the sophist Alexinus\nin one of his lectures said a good many bad things about Stilpo the\nMegarian, but when one of those that were present said, \"Why, he was\nspeaking in your praise only the other day,\" he replied, \"I don't doubt\nit; for he is the best and noblest of men.\" Menedemus on the contrary,\nhaving heard that Alexinus[674] frequently praised him, replied, \"But I\nalways censure him, for that man is bad who either praises a bad man or\nis blamed by a good.\" So inflexible and proof was he against such\nflattery, and master of that advice which Hercules in Antisthenes[675]\ngave, when he ordered his sons to be grateful to no one that praised\nthem; which meant nothing else than that they should not be\ndumbfoundered at it, nor flatter again those who praised them. Very apt,\nI take it, was the remark of Pindar to one who told him that he praised\nhim everywhere and to all persons, \"I am greatly obliged to you, and\nwill make your account true by my actions.\"\n\nSec. XIX. A useful precept in reference to all passions is especially\nvaluable in the case of the bashful. When they have been overcome by\nthis infirmity, and against their judgement have erred and been\nconfounded, let them fix it in their memories, and, remembering the pain\nand grief it gave them, let them recall it to their mind and be on their\nguard for a very long time. For as travellers that have stumbled against\na stone, or pilots that have been wrecked off a headland, if they\nremember these occurrences, not only dread and are on their guard\ncontinually on those spots, but also on all similar ones; so those that\nfrequently remember the disgrace and injury that bashfulness brought\nthem, and its sorrow and anguish, will in similar cases be on their\nguard against their weakness, and will not readily allow themselves to\nbe subjugated by it again.\n\n    [636] Or _bashfulness_, _shamefacedness_, what the\n    French call _mauvaise honte_.\n\n    [637] Shakespeare puts all this into one line: \"Most\n    subject is the fattest soil to weeds.\"--_2 Henry IV._,\n    A. iv. Sc. iv.\n\n    [638] Or _girls_. [Greek: kore] means both a girl, and\n    the pupil of the eye.\n\n    [639] So Wyttenbach.\n\n    [640] These lines are quoted again \"On Moral Virtue,\" Sec.\n    vi.\n\n    [641] \"Iliad,\" xxiv. 44, 45.\n\n    [642] Euripides, \"Bellerophon,\" Fragm., 313.\n\n    [643] Soph., Fragm., 736.\n\n    [644] Surely it is necessary to read [Greek:\n    prodiaphthareisa to akolasto].\n\n    [645] See Plato, \"Charmides,\" 165 A.\n\n    [646] Euripides, \"Medea,\" 290, 291.\n\n    [647] \"Works and Days,\" 342.\n\n    [648] Reading with Wyttenbach, [Greek: med hypolabe\n    pisteuein, dokounta].\n\n    [649] See Horace's very amusing \"Satire,\" i. ix., on\n    such tiresome fellows.\n\n    [650] [Greek: epitribo] is used in the same sense by\n    Demosthenes, p. 288.\n\n    [651] On such social pests see Juvenal, i. 1-14.\n\n    [652] See Pausanias, i. 2. Euripides left Athens about\n    409 B.C., and took up his abode for good in Macedonia at\n    the court of Archelaus, where he died 406 B.C.\n\n    [653] For a drachma was only worth 6 obols, or 93/4_d._ of\n    our money, nearly = Roman denarius.\n\n    [654] A talent was 6,000 drachmae, or 36,000 obols, about\n    L243 15_s._ of our money.\n\n    [655] \"Olynth.\" iii. p. 33, Sec. 19.\n\n    [656] Compare \"On Education,\" Sec. vii.\n\n    [657] Our \"Out of the frying-pan into the fire.\" Cf.\n    \"Incidit in Scyllam cupiens vitare Charybdim.\"\n\n    [658] By their having to borrow themselves.\n\n    [659] Fragm. 947.\n\n    [660] Or apophthegms, of which Plutarch and Lord Verulam\n    have both left us collections.\n\n    [661] Thucydides, ii. 40. Pericles is the speaker.\n\n    [662] A slightly-changed line from Euripides'\n    \"Pirithous,\" Fragm. 591. Quoted correctly \"On Abundance\n    of Friends,\" Sec. vii.\n\n    [663] \"Zenonis discipulus.\"--_Reiske._\n\n    [664] \"Works and Days,\" 371.\n\n    [665] Cf. Shakspere, \"Hamlet,\" i. iii. 76.\n\n    [666] Euripides, \"Medea,\" 1078.\n\n    [667] Our \"Set a thief to catch a thief.\"\n\n    [668] Or strigil. See Otto Jahn's note on Persius, v.\n    126.\n\n    [669] \"Forsitan illa quam nominat Pausanias, i.\n    27.\"--_Reiske._\n\n    [670] Literally \"want of tune in.\" We cannot well keep\n    up the metaphor. Compare with this passage, \"That virtue\n    may be taught,\" Sec. ii.\n\n    [671] Literally \"crowns.\"\n\n    [672] Thucydides, ii. 64. Pericles is the speaker.\n    Quoted again in \"How one may discern a flatterer from a\n    friend,\" Sec. XXXV.\n\n    [673] \"Est Bio Borysthenita, de quo vide Diog.\n    Laert.\"--_Reiske._\n\n    [674] \"De Alexino Eleo vide Diog. Laert., ii. 109.\n    Nostri p. 1063, 3.\"--_Reiske._\n\n    [675] Antisthenes wrote a book called \"Hercules.\" See\n    Diogenes Laertius, vi. 16.\n\n\n\n\nON RESTRAINING ANGER.\n\nA DIALOGUE BETWEEN SYLLA AND FUNDANUS.\n\n\nSec. I. _Sylla._ Those painters, Fundanus, seem to me to do well who,\nbefore giving the finishing touches to their paintings, lay them by for\na time and then revise them; because by taking their eyes off them for a\ntime they gain by frequent inspection a new insight, and are more apt to\ndetect minute differences, that continuous familiarity would have\nhidden. Now since a human being cannot so separate himself from himself\nfor a time, and make a break in his continuity, and then approach\nhimself again--and that is perhaps the chief reason why a man is a worse\njudge of himself than of others--the next best thing will be for a man\nto inspect his friends after an interval, and likewise offer himself to\ntheir scrutiny, not to see whether he has aged quickly, or whether his\nbodily condition is better or worse, but to examine his moral character,\nand see whether time has added any good quality, or removed any bad one.\nOn my return then to Rome after an absence of two years, and having been\nwith you now five months, I am not at all surprised that there has been\na great increase and growth in those good points which you formerly had\nowing to your admirable nature; but when I see how gentle and obedient\nto reason your former excessive impetuosity and hot temper has become,\nit cannot but occur to me to quote the line,\n\n  \"Ye gods, how much more mild is he become!\"[676]\n\nAnd this mildness has not wrought in you sloth or weakness, but like\ncultivation of the soil it has produced a smoothness and depth fit for\naction, instead of the former impetuosity and vehemence. And so it is\nclear that your propensity to anger has not been effaced by any\ndeclining vigour or through some chance, but has been cured by good\nprecepts. And indeed, for I will tell you the truth, when our friend\nEros[677] reported this change in you to me, I suspected that owing to\ngoodwill he bare witness not of the actual state of the case, but of\nwhat was becoming to all good and virtuous men, although, as you know,\nhe can never be persuaded to depart from his real opinion to ingratiate\nhimself with anyone. But now he is acquitted of false witness, and do\nyou, as your journey gives you leisure, narrate to me the mode of cure\nyou employed to make your temper so under control, so natural, gentle\nand obedient to reason.\n\n_Fundanus._ Most friendly Sylla, take care that you do not in your\ngoodwill and affection to me rest under any misconception of my real\ncondition. For it is possible that Eros, not being able always himself\nto keep his temper in its place in the obedience that Homer speaks\nof,[678] but sometimes carried away by his hatred of what is bad, may\nthink me grown milder than I really am, as in changes of the scale in\nmusic the lowest notes become the highest.\n\n_Sylla._ Neither of these is the case, Fundanus, but oblige me by doing\nas I ask.\n\nSec. II. _Fundanus._ One of the excellent precepts then of Musonius that I\nremember, Sylla, is this, that those who wish to be well should diet\nthemselves all their life long. For I do not think we must employ reason\nas a cure, as we do hellebore, by purging it out with the disease, but\nwe must retain it in the soul, to restrain and govern the judgement. For\nthe power of reason is not like physic, but wholesome food, which\nco-operates with good health in producing a good habit of body in those\nby whom it is taken. But admonition and reproof, when passion is at its\nheight and swelling, does little or no good, but resembles very closely\nthose strong-smelling substances, that are able to set on their legs\nagain those that have fallen in epileptic fits, but cannot rid them of\ntheir disease. For although all other passions, even at the moment of\ntheir acme, do in some sort listen to reason and admit it into the soul,\nyet anger does not, for, as Melanthius says,\n\n  \"Fell things it does when it the mind unsettles,\"\n\nfor it absolutely turns reason out of doors, and bolts it out, and, like\nthose persons who burn themselves and houses together, it makes all the\ninterior full of confusion and smoke and noise, so that what would be\nadvantageous can neither be seen nor heard. And so an empty ship in a\nstorm at open sea would sooner admit on board a pilot from without, than\na man in a tempest of rage and anger would listen to another's advice,\nunless his own reason was first prepared to hearken. But as those who\nexpect a siege get together and store up supplies, when they despair of\nrelief from without, so ought we by all means to scour the country far\nand wide to derive aids against anger from philosophy, and store them up\nin the soul: for, when the time of need comes, we shall find it no easy\ntask to import them. For either the soul doesn't hear what is said\nwithout because of the uproar, if it have not within its own reason\n(like a boatswain as it were) to receive at once and understand every\nexhortation; or if it does hear, it despises what is uttered mildly and\ngently, while it is exasperated by harsh censure. For anger being\nhaughty and self-willed and hard to be worked upon by another, like a\nfortified tyranny, must have someone born and bred within it[679] to\noverthrow it.\n\nSec. III. Now long-continued anger, and frequent giving way to it, produces\nan evil disposition of soul, which people call irascibility, and which\nends in passionateness, bitterness, and peevishness, whenever the mind\nbecomes sore and vexed at trifles and querulous at everyday occurrences,\nlike iron thin and beaten out too fine. But when the judgement checks\nand suppresses at once the rising anger, it not only cures the soul for\nthe moment, but restores its tone and balance for the future. It has\nhappened to myself indeed twice or thrice, when I strongly fought\nagainst anger, that I was in the same plight as the Thebans, who after\nthey had once defeated the Lacedaemonians, whom they had hitherto thought\ninvincible, never lost a battle against them again. I then felt\nconfident that reason can win the victory. I saw also that anger is not\nonly appeased by the sprinkling of cold water, as Aristotle attested,\nbut is also extinguished by the action of fear; aye, and, as Homer tells\nus, anger has been cured and has melted away in the case of many by some\nsudden joy. So that I came to the conclusion that this passion is not\nincurable for those who wish to be cured. For it does not arise from\ngreat and important causes, but banter and joking, a laugh or a nod, and\nsimilar trifles make many angry, as Helen by addressing her niece,\n\n  \"Electra, maiden now for no short time,\"[680]\n\nprovoked her to reply,\n\n  \"Your wisdom blossoms late, since formerly\n   You left your house in shame;\"[681]\n\nand Callisthenes incensed Alexander, by saying, when a huge cup was\nbrought to him, \"I will not drink to Alexander till I shall require the\nhelp of AEsculapius.\"\n\nSec. IV. As then it is easy to put out a flame kindled in the hair of hares\nand in wicks and rubbish, but if it once gets hold of things solid and\nthick, it quickly destroys and consumes them, \"raging amidst the lofty\nwork of the carpenters,\" as AEschylus[682] says; so he that observes\nanger in its rise, and sees it gradually smoking and bursting forth into\nfire from some chatter or rubbishy scurrility, need have no great\ntrouble with it, but can frequently smother it merely by silence and\ncontempt. For as a person puts out a fire by bringing no fuel to it, so\nwith respect to anger, he that does not in the beginning fan it, and\nstir up its rage in himself, keeps it off and destroys it. And so,\nthough Hieronymus has given us many useful sayings and precepts, I am\nnot pleased with his remark that there is no perception of anger in its\nbirth, but only in its actual developement, so quick is it. For none of\nthe passions when stirred up and set in motion has so palpable a birth\nand growth as anger. As indeed Homer skilfully shows us, where he\nrepresents Achilles as seized at once with grief, when word was brought\nhim _of Patroclus' death_, in the line,\n\n  \"Thus spake he, and grief's dark cloud covered him;\"[683]\n\nwhereas he represents him as waxing angry with Agamemnon slowly, and as\ninflamed by his many words, which if either of them[684] had abstained\nfrom, their quarrel would not have attained such growth and magnitude.\nAnd so Socrates, as often as he perceived any anger rising in him\nagainst any of his friends, \"setting himself like some ocean promontory\nto break the violence of the waves,\" would lower his voice, and put on a\nsmiling countenance, and give his eye a gentler expression, by inclining\nin the other direction and running counter to his passion, thus keeping\nhimself from fall and defeat.\n\nSec. V. For the first way, my friend, to overcome anger, like the putting\ndown of some tyrant, is not to obey or listen to it when it bids you\nspeak loud, and look fierce, and beat yourself, but to remain quiet, and\nnot to make the passion more intense, as one would a disease, by tossing\nabout and crying out. In love affairs indeed, such things as revellings,\nand serenadings, and crowning the loved one's door with garlands, may\nindeed bring, some pleasant and elegant relief.\n\n  \"I went, but asked not who or whose she was,\n   I merely kissed her door-post. If that be\n   A crime, I do plead guilty to the same.\"[685]\n\nIn the case of mourners also giving up to weeping and wailing takes away\nwith the tears much of the grief. But anger on the contrary is much more\nfanned by what angry persons do and say. It is best therefore to be\ncalm, or to flee and hide ourselves and go to a haven of quiet, when we\nfeel the fit of temper coming upon us as an epileptic fit, that we fall\nnot, or rather fall not on others, for it is our friends that we fall\nupon most and most frequently. For we do not love all, nor envy all, nor\nfear all men; but nothing is untouched or unassailed by anger; for we\nare angry with friends and enemies, parents and children, aye, and with\nthe gods, and beasts, and even things inanimate, as was Thamyris,\n\n  \"Breaking his gold-bound horn, breaking the music\n   Of well-compacted lyre;\"[686]\n\nand Pandarus, who called down a curse upon himself, if he did not burn\nhis bow \"after breaking it with his hands.\"[687] And Xerxes inflicted\nstripes and blows on the sea, and sent letters to Mount Athos, \"Divine\nAthos, whose top reaches heaven, put not in the way of my works stones\nlarge and difficult to deal with, or else I will hew thee down, and\nthrow thee into the sea.\" For anger has many formidable aspects, and\nmany ridiculous ones, so that of all the passions it is the most hated\nand despised. It will be well to consider both aspects.\n\nSec. VI. To begin then, whether my process was wrong or right I know not,\nbut I began my cure of anger by noticing its effects in others, as the\nLacedaemonians study the nature of drunkenness in the Helots. And in the\nfirst place, as Hippocrates tells us that disease is most dangerous in\nwhich the face of the patient is most unlike himself, so observing that\npeople beside themselves with anger change their face, colour, walk, and\nvoice, I formed an impression as it were of that aspect of passion, and\nwas very disgusted with myself if ever I should appear so frightful and\nlike one out of his mind to my friends and wife and daughters, not only\nwild and unlike oneself in appearance, but also with a voice savage and\nharsh, as I had noticed in some[688] of my acquaintance, who could\nneither preserve for anger their ordinary behaviour, or demeanour, or\ngrace of language, or persuasiveness and gentleness in conversation.\nCaius Gracchus, indeed, the orator, whose character was harsh and style\nof oratory impassioned, had a pitch-pipe made for him, such as musicians\nuse to heighten or lower their voices by degrees, and this, when he was\nmaking a speech, a slave stood behind him and held, and used to give him\na mild and gentle note on it, whereby he lowered his key, and removed\nfrom his voice the harsh and passionate element, charming and laying the\nheat of the orator,\n\n  \"As shepherds' wax-joined reed sounds musically\n   With sleep provoking strain.\"[689]\n\nFor myself if I had some elegant and sprightly companion, I should not\nbe vexed at his showing me a looking-glass in my fits of anger, as they\noffer one to some after a bath to little useful end. For to behold\noneself unnaturally distorted in countenance will condemn anger in no\nsmall degree. The poets playfully tell us that Athene when playing on\nthe pipe was rebuked thus by a Satyr,\n\n  \"That look no way becomes you, take your armour,\n   Lay down your pipes, and do compose your cheeks,\"\n\nand though she paid no attention to him, yet afterwards when she saw her\nface in a river, she felt vexed and threw her pipes away, although art\nhad made melody a compensation for her unsightliness. And Marsyas, it\nseems, by a sort of mouthpiece forcibly repressed the violence of his\nbreath, and tricked up and hid the contortion of his face,\n\n  \"Around his shaggy temples put bright gold,\n   And o'er his open mouth thongs tied behind.\"\n\nNow anger, that puffs up and distends the face so as to look ugly,\nutters a voice still more harsh and unpleasant,\n\n  \"Moving the mind's chords undisturbed before.\"\n\nThey say that the sea is cleansed when agitated by the winds it throws\nup tangle and seaweed; but the intemperate and bitter and vain words,\nwhich the mind throws up when the soul is agitated, defile the speakers\nof them first of all and fill them with infamy, as always having those\nthoughts within their bosom and being defiled with them, but only giving\nvent to them in anger. And so for a word which is, as Plato styles it,\n\"a very small matter,\" they incur a most heavy punishment, for they get\nreputed to be enemies, and evil speakers, and malignant in disposition.\n\nSec. VII. Seeing and observing all this, it occurs to me to take it as a\nmatter of fact, and record it for my own general use, that if it is good\nto keep the tongue soft and smooth in a fever, it is better to keep it\nso in anger. For if the tongue of people in a fever be unnatural, it is\na bad sign, but not the cause of their malady; but the tongue of angry\npeople, being rough and foul, and breaking out into unseemly speeches,\nproduces insults that work irremediable mischief, and argue deep-rooted\nmalevolence within. For wine drunk neat does not exhibit the soul in so\nungovernable and hateful a condition as temper does: for the outbreaks\nof the one smack of laughter and fun, while those of the other are\ncompounded with gall: and at a drinking-bout he that is silent is\nburdensome to the company and tiresome, whereas in anger nothing is more\nhighly thought of than silence, as Sappho advises,\n\n  \"When anger's busy in the brain\n   Thy idly-barking tongue restrain.\"\n\nSec. VIII. And not only does the consideration of all this naturally arise\nfrom observing ourselves in the moments of anger, but we cannot help\nseeing also the other properties of rage, how ignoble it is, how\nunmanly, how devoid of dignity and greatness of mind! And yet to most\npeople its noise seems vigour, its threatening confidence, and its\nobstinacy force of character; some even not wisely entitle its\nsavageness magnanimity, and its implacability firmness, and its morosity\nhatred of what is bad. For their actions and motions and whole demeanour\nargue great littleness and meanness, not only when they are fierce with\nlittle boys, and peevish with women, and think it right to treat dogs\nand horses and mules with harshness, as Otesiphon the pancratiast\nthought fit to kick back a mule that had kicked him, but even in the\nbutcheries that tyrants commit their littleness of soul is apparent in\ntheir savageness, and their suffering in their action, so that they are\nlike the bites of serpents, that, when they are burnt and smart with\npain, violently thrust their venom on those that have hurt them. For as\na swelling is produced in the flesh by a heavy blow, so in softest souls\nthe inclination to hurt others gets its greater strength from greater\nweakness. Thus women are more prone to anger than men, and people ill\nthan people well, and old men than men in their prime, and the\nunfortunate than the prosperous; the miser is most prone to anger with\nhis steward, the glutton with his cook, the jealous man with his wife,\nthe vain man when he is spoken ill of; and worst of all are those \"men\nwho are too eager in states for office, or to head a faction, a manifest\nsorrow,\" to borrow Pindar's words. So from the very great pain and\nsuffering of the soul there arises mainly from weakness anger, which is\nnot like the nerves of the soul, as some one defined it, but like its\nstrainings and convulsions when it is excessively vehement in its thirst\nfor revenge.\n\nSec. IX. Such bad examples as these were not pleasant to look at but\nnecessary, but I shall now proceed to describe people who have been mild\nand easy in dealing with anger, conduct gratifying either to see or hear\nabout, being utterly disgusted[690] with people who use such language\nas,\n\n  \"You have a man wronged: shall a man stand this?\"\n\nand,\n\n  \"Put your heel upon his neck, and dash his head against\n    the ground,\"\n\nand other provoking expressions such as these, by which some not well\nhave transferred anger from the woman's side of the house to the man's.\nFor manliness in all other respects seems to resemble justice, and to\ndiffer from it only in respect to gentleness, with which it has more\naffinities. For it sometimes happens to worse men to govern better ones,\nbut to erect a trophy in the soul against anger (which Heraclitus says\nit is difficult to contend against, for whatever it wishes is bought at\nthe price of the soul), is a proof of power so great and victorious as\nto be able to apply the judgement as if it were nerves and sinews to the\npassions. So I always try to collect and peruse the remarks on this\nsubject not only of the philosophers, who foolish[691] people say had no\ngall in their composition, but still more of kings and tyrants. Such was\nthe remark of Antigonus to his soldiers, when they were abusing him near\nhis tent as if he were not listening, so he put his staff out, and said,\n\"What's to do? can you not go rather farther off to run me down?\" And\nwhen Arcadio the Achaean, who was always railing against Philip, and\nadvising people to flee\n\n  \"Unto a country where they knew not Philip,\"\n\nvisited Macedonia afterwards on some chance or other, the king's friends\nthought he ought to be punished and the matter not looked over; but\nPhilip treated him kindly, and sent him presents and gifts, and\nafterwards bade inquiry to be made as to what sort of account of him\nArcadio now gave to the Greeks; and when all testified that the fellow\nhad become a wonderful praiser of the king, Philip said, \"You see I knew\nhow to cure him better than all of you.\" And at the Olympian games when\nthere was defamation of Philip, and some of his suite said to him, that\nthe Greeks ought to smart for it, because they railed against him when\nthey were treated well by him, he replied, \"What will they do then if\nthey are treated badly by me?\" Excellent also was the behaviour of\nPisistratus to Thrasybulus, and of Porsena to Mucius, and of Magas to\nPhilemon. As to Magas, after he had been publicly jeered at by Philemon\nin one of his comedies at the theatre in the following words,\n\n  \"Magas, the king hath written thee a letter,\n   Unhappy Magas, since thou can'st not read,\"\n\nafter having taken Philemon, who had been cast on shore by a storm at\nParaetonium, he commanded one of his soldiers only to touch his neck with\nthe naked sword and then to go away quietly, and dismissed him, after\nsending him a ball and some dice as if he were a silly boy. And Ptolemy\non one occasion, flouting a grammarian for his ignorance, asked him who\nwas the father of Peleus, and he answered, \"I will tell you, if you tell\nme first who was the father of Lagus.\" This was a jeer at the obscure\nbirth of the king, and all his courtiers were indignant at it as an\nunpardonable liberty; but Ptolemy said, \"If it is not kingly to take a\nflout, neither is it kingly to give one.\" And Alexander was more savage\nthan usual in his behaviour to Callisthenes and Clitus. So Porus, when\nhe was taken captive, begged Alexander to use him as a king. And on his\ninquiring, \"What, nothing more?\" he replied \"No. For everything is\nincluded in being used as a king.\" So they call the king of the gods\nMilichius,[692] while they call Ares Maimactes;[693] and punishment and\ntorture they assign to the Erinnyes and to demons, not to the gods or\nOlympus.\n\nSec. X. As then a certain person passed the following remark on Philip when\nhe had razed Olynthus to the ground, \"He certainly could not build such\nanother city,\" so we may say to anger, \"You can root up, and destroy,\nand throw down, but to raise up and save and spare and tolerate is the\nwork of mildness and moderation, the work of a Camillus, a Metellus, an\nAristides, a Socrates; but to sting and bite is to resemble the ant and\nhorse-fly. For, indeed, when I consider revenge, I find its angry method\nto be for the most part ineffectual, since it spends itself in biting\nthe lips and gnashing the teeth, and in vain attacks, and in railings\ncoupled with foolish threats, and eventually resembles children running\nraces, who from feebleness ridiculously tumble down before they reach\nthe goal they are hastening to. So that speech of the Rhodian to a\nlictor of the Roman praetor who was shouting and talking insolently was\nnot inapt, \"It is no matter to me what you say, but what your master\nthinks.\"[694] And Sophocles, when he had introduced Neoptolemus and\nEurypylus as armed for the battle, gives them this high\ncommendation,[695]\n\n  \"They rushed into the midst of armed warriors,\"\n\nSome barbarians indeed poison their steel, but bravery has no need of\ngall, being dipped in reason, but rage and fury are not invincible but\nrotten. And so the Lacedaemonians by their pipes turn away the anger of\ntheir warriors, and sacrifice to the Muses before commencing battle,\nthat reason may abide with them, and when they have routed a foe do not\nfollow up the victory,[696] but relax their rage, which like small\ndaggers they can easily take back. But anger kills myriads before it is\nglutted with revenge, as happened in the case of Cyrus and Pelopidas the\nTheban. But Agathocles bore mildly the revilings of those he was\nbesieging, and when one of them cried out, \"Potter, how are you going to\nget money to pay your mercenaries?\" he replied laughingly, \"Out of your\ntown if I take it.\" And when some of those on the wall threw his\nugliness into the teeth of Antigonus, he said to them, \"I thought I was\nrather a handsome fellow.\" But after he had taken the town, he sold for\nslaves those that had flouted him, protesting that, if they insulted him\nagain, he would bring the matter before their masters. I have noticed\nalso that hunters and orators are very unsuccessful when they give way\nto anger.[697] And Aristotle tells us that the friends of Satyrus\nstopped up his ears with wax when he was to plead a cause, that he might\nnot make any confusion in the case through rage at the abuse of his\nenemies. And does it not frequently happen with ourselves that a slave\nwho has offended escapes punishment, because they abscond in fear of our\nthreats and harsh words? What nurses then say to children, \"Give up\ncrying, and you shall have it,\" may usefully be applied to anger, thus,\n\"Do not be in a hurry, or bawl out, or be vehement, and you will sooner\nand better get what you want.\" For a father, seeing his boy trying to\ncut or cleave something with a knife, takes the knife from him and does\nit himself: and similarly a person, taking revenge out of the hand of\npassion, does himself safely and usefully and without harm punish the\nperson who deserves punishment, and not himself instead, as anger often\ndoes.\n\nSec. XI. Now though all the passions need such discipline as by exercise\nshall tame and subdue their unreasoning and disobedient elements, yet\nthere is none which we ought to keep under by such discipline so much as\nthe exhibition of anger to our servants. For neither envy, nor fear, nor\nrivalry come into play between them and us; but our frequent displays of\nanger to them, creating many offences and faults, make us to slip as if\non slippery ground owing to our autocracy with our servants, which no\none resists or prevents. For it is impossible to check irresponsible\npower so as never to break out under the influence of passion, unless\none wields power with much meekness, and refuses to listen to the\nfrequent complaints of one's wife and friends charging one with being\ntoo easy and lax with one's servants. And by nothing have I been more\nexasperated against them, as if they were being ruined for want of\ncorrection. At last, though late, I got to see that in the first place\nit is better to make them worse by forbearance, than by bitterness and\nanger to distort oneself for the correction of others. In the next place\nI observed that many for the very reason that they were not corrected\nwere frequently ashamed to be bad, and made pardon rather than\npunishment the commencement of their reformation, aye, and made better\nslaves to some merely at their nod silently and cheerfully than to\nothers with all their beatings and brandings, and so I came to the\nconclusion that reason gets better obeyed than temper, for it is not as\nthe poet said,\n\n  \"Where there is fear, there too is self-respect,\"\n\nbut it is just the other way about, for self-respect begets that kind of\nfear that corrects the behaviour. But perpetual and pitiless beating\nproduces not so much repentance for wrong-doing as contrivances to\ncontinue in it without detection. In the third place, ever remembering\nand reflecting within myself that, just as he that teaches us the use of\nthe bow does not forbid us to shoot but only to miss the mark, so it\nwill not prevent punishment altogether to teach people to do it in\nseason, and with moderation, utility, and decorum, I strive to remove\nanger most especially by not forbidding those who are to be corrected to\nspeak in their defence, but by listening to them. For the interval of\ntime gives a pause to passion, and a delay that mitigates it, and so\njudgement finds out both the fit manner and adequate amount of\npunishment. Moreover he that is punished has nothing to allege against\nhis correction, if he is punished not in anger but only after his guilt\nis brought home to him. And the greatest disgrace will not be incurred,\nwhich is when the servant seems to speak more justly than the master. As\nthen Phocion, after the death of Alexander, to stop the Athenians from\nrevolting and believing the news too soon, said to them, \"Men of Athens,\nif he is dead to-day, he will certainly also be dead to-morrow and the\nnext day,\" so I think the man who is in a hurry to punish anyone in his\nrage ought to consider with himself, \"If this person has wronged you\nto-day, he will also have wronged you to-morrow and the next day; and\nthere will be no harm done if he shall be punished somewhat late;\nwhereas if he shall be punished at once, he will always seem to you to\nhave been innocent, as has often happened before now.\" For which of us\nis so savage as to chastise and scourge a slave because five or ten days\nbefore he over-roasted the meat, or upset the table, or was somewhat\ntardy on some errand? And yet these are the very things for which we put\nourselves out and are harsh and implacable, immediately after they have\nhappened and are recent. For as bodies seem greater in a mist, so do\nlittle matters in a rage. We ought therefore to consider such arguments\nas these at once, and if, when there is no trace of passion left, the\nmatter appear bad to calm and clear reason, then it ought to be taken in\nhand, and the punishment ought not to be neglected or abandoned, as we\nleave food when we have lost our appetites. For nothing causes people to\npunish so much when their anger is fierce, as that when it is appeased\nthey do not punish at all, but forget the matter entirely, and resemble\nlazy rowers, who lie in harbour when the sea is calm, and then sail out\nto their peril when the wind gets up. So we, condemning reason for\nslackness and mildness in punishing, are in a hurry to punish, borne\nalong by passion as by a dangerous gale. He that is hungry takes his\nfood as nature dictates, but he that punishes should have no hunger or\nthirst for it, nor require anger as a sauce to stimulate him to it, but\nshould punish when he is as far as possible from having any desire for\nit, and has to compel his reason to it. For we ought not, as Aristotle\ntells us slaves in his time were scourged in Etruria to the music of the\nflute, to go headlong into punishing with a desire and zest for it, and\nto delight in punishing, and then afterwards to be sorry at it--for the\nfirst is savage, and the last womanish--but we should without either\nsorrow or pleasure chastise at the dictates of reason, giving anger no\nopportunity to interfere.\n\nSec. XII. But this perhaps will not appear a cure of anger so much as a\nputting away and avoiding such faults as men commit in anger. And yet,\nthough the swelling of the spleen is only a symptom of fever, the fever\nis assuaged by its abating, as Hieronymus tells us. Now when I\ncontemplated the origin of anger itself, I observed that, though\ndifferent persons fell into it for different reasons, yet in nearly all\nof them was the idea of their being despised and neglected to be found.\nSo we ought to help those who try to get rid of anger, by removing as\nfar as possible from them any action savouring of contempt or contumely,\nand by looking upon their anger as folly or necessity, or emotion, or\nmischance, as Sophocles says,\n\n  \"In those that are unfortunate, O king,\n   No mind stays firm, but all their balance lose.\"[698]\n\nAnd so Agamemnon, ascribing to Ate his carrying off Briseis, yet says to\nAchilles,\n\n  \"I wish to please you in return, and give\n   Completest satisfaction.\"[699]\n\nFor suing is not the action of one who shews his contempt, and when he\nthat has done an injury is humble he removes all idea of slighting one.\nBut the angry person must not expect this, but rather take to himself\nthe answer of Diogenes, who, when it was said to him, \"These people\nlaugh at you,\" replied, \"But I am not one to be laughed at,\" and not\nthink himself despised, but rather despise the person who gave the\noffence, as acting from weakness, or error, or rashness, or\nheedlessness, or illiberality, or old age, or youth. Nor must we\nentertain such notions with regard to our servants and friends. For they\ndo not despise us as void of ability or energy, but owing to our\nevenness and good-nature, some because we are mild, and others presuming\non our affection for them. But as it is we not only fly into rages with\nwife and slaves and friends, as if we were slighted by them, but we also\nfrequently, from forming the same idea of being slighted, fall foul of\ninnkeepers and sailors and muleteers, and are vexed at dogs that bark\nand asses that are in our way: like the man who was going to beat an\nass-driver, but when he cried out he was an Athenian, he said to the\nass, \"You are not an Athenian anyway,\" and beat it with many stripes.\n\nSec. XIII. Moreover those continuous and frequent fits of anger that gather\ntogether in the soul by degrees, like a swarm of bees or wasps, are\ngenerated within us by selfishness and peevishness, luxury and softness.\nAnd so nothing causes us to be mild to our servants and wife and friends\nso much as easiness and simplicity, and the learning to be content with\nwhat we have, and not to require a quantity of superfluities.\n\n  \"He who likes not his meat if over-roast\n   Or over-boiled, or under-roast or under-boiled,\n   And never praises it however dressed,\"\n\nbut will not drink unless he have snow to cool his drink, nor eat bread\npurchased in the market, nor touch food served on cheap or earthenware\nplates, nor sleep upon any but a feather bed that rises and falls like\nthe sea stirred up from its depths, and with rods and blows hastens his\nservants at table, so that they run about and cry out and sweat as if\nthey were bringing poultices to sores, he is slave to a weak querulous\nand discontented mode of life, and, like one who has a continual cough\nor various ailments, whether he is aware of it or not, he is in an\nulcerous and catarrh-like condition as regards his proneness to anger.\nWe must therefore train the body to contentment by plain living, that it\nmay be easily satisfied: for they that require little do not miss much;\nand it is no great hardship to begin with our food, and take it silently\nwhatever it is, and not by being choleric and peevish to thrust upon\nourselves and friends the worst sauce to meat, anger.\n\n  \"No more unpleasant supper could there be\"[700]\n\nthan that wherein the servants are beaten, and the wife scolded, because\nsomething is burnt or smoked or not salt enough, or because the bread is\ntoo cold. Arcesilaus was once entertaining some friends and strangers,\nand when dinner was served, there was no bread, through the servants\nhaving neglected to buy any. In such a case as this which of us would\nnot have broken the walls with vociferation? But he only smiled and\nsaid, \"How unfit a sage is to give an entertainment!\" And when Socrates\nonce took Euthydemus home with him from the wrestling-school, Xanthippe\nwas in a towering rage, and scolded, and at last upset the table, and\nEuthydemus rose and went away full of sorrow. But Socrates said to him,\n\"Did not a hen at your house the other day fly in and act in the very\nsame way? And we did not put ourselves out about it.\" We ought to\nreceive our friends with gaiety and smiles and welcome, not knitting our\nbrows, or inspiring fear and trembling in the attendants. We ought also\nto accustom ourselves to the use of any kind of ware at table, and not\nto stint ourselves to one kind rather than another, as some pick out a\nparticular tankard or horn, as they say Marius did, out of many, and\nwill not drink out of anything else; and some act in the same way with\nregard to oil-flasks and scrapers,[701] being content with only one out\nof all, and so, if such an article is broken or lost, they are very much\nput out about it, and punish with severity. He then that is prone to\nanger should not use rare and dainty things, such as choice cups and\nseals and precious stones: for if they are lost they put a man beside\nhimself much more than the loss of ordinary and easily got things would\ndo. And so when Nero had got an eight-cornered tent constructed, a\nwonderful object both for its beauty and costliness, Seneca said to him,\n\"You have now shown yourself to be poor, for if you should lose this,\nyou will not be able to procure such another.\" And indeed it did so\nhappen that the tent was lost by shipwreck, but Nero bore its loss\npatiently, remembering what Seneca had said. Now this easiness about\nthings generally makes a man also easy and gentle to his servants, and\nif to them, then it is clear he will be so to his friends also, and to\nall that serve under him in any capacity. So we observe that\nnewly-purchased slaves do not inquire about the master who has bought\nthem, whether he is superstitious or envious, but only whether he is a\nbad-tempered man: and generally speaking we see that neither can men put\nup with chaste wives, nor wives with loving husbands, nor friends with\none another, if they be ill-tempered to boot. So neither marriage nor\nfriendship is bearable with anger, though without anger even drunkenness\nis a small matter. For the wand of Dionysus punishes sufficiently the\ndrunken man, but if anger be added it turns wine from being the\ndispeller of care and inspirer of the dance into a savage and fury. And\nsimple madness can be cured by Anticyra,[702] but madness mixed with\nanger is the producer of tragedies and dreadful narratives.\n\nSec. XIV. So we ought to give anger no vent, either in jest, for that draws\nhatred to friendliness; or in discussion, for that turns love of\nlearning into strife; or on the judgement-seat, for that adds insolence\nto power; or in teaching, for that produces dejection and hatred of\nlearning: or in prosperity, for that increases envy; or in adversity,\nfor that deprives people of compassion, when they are peevish and run\ncounter to those who condole with them, like Priam,\n\n  \"A murrain on you, worthless wretches all,\n   Have you no griefs at home, that here you come\n   To sympathize with me?\"[703]\n\nGood temper on the other hand is useful in some circumstances, adorns\nand sweetens others, and gets the better of all peevishness and anger by\nits gentleness. Thus Euclides,[704] when his brother said to him in a\ndispute between them, \"May I perish, if I don't have my revenge on you!\"\nreplied, \"May I perish, if I don't persuade you!\" and so at once turned\nand changed him. And Polemo, when a man reviled him who was fond of\nprecious stones and quite crazy for costly seal-rings, made no answer,\nbut bestowed all his attention on one of his seal-rings, and eyed it\nclosely; and he being delighted said, \"Do not look at it so, Polemo, but\nin the light of the sun, and it will appear to you more beautiful.\" And\nAristippus, when there was anger between him and AEschines, and somebody\nsaid, \"O Aristippus, where is now your friendship?\" replied, \"It is\nasleep, but I will wake it up,\" and went to AEschines, and said to him,\n\"Do I seem to you so utterly unfortunate and incurable as to be unworthy\nof any consideration?\" And AEschines replied, \"It is not at all wonderful\nthat you, being naturally superior to me in all things, should have been\nfirst to detect in this matter too what was needful.\"\n\n  \"For not a woman only, but young child\n   Tickling the bristly boar with tender hand,\n   Will lay him prostrate sooner than an athlete.\"\n\nBut we that tame wild beasts and make them gentle, and carry in our arms\nyoung wolves and lions' whelps, inconsistently repel our children and\nfriends and acquaintances in our rage, and let loose our temper like\nsome wild beast on our servants and fellow-citizens, speciously trying\nto disguise it not rightly under the name of hatred of evil, but it is,\nI suppose, as with the other passions and diseases of the soul, we\ncannot get rid of any of them by calling one prudence, and another\nliberality, and another piety.\n\nSec. XV. And yet, as Zeno said the seed was a mixture and compound drawn\nfrom all the faculties of the soul, so anger seems a universal seed from\nall the passions. For it is drawn from pain and pleasure and\nhaughtiness, and from envy it gets its property of malignity--and it is\neven worse than envy,[705] for it does not mind its own suffering if it\ncan only implicate another in misery--and the most unlovely kind of\ndesire is innate in it, namely the appetite for injuring another. So\nwhen we go to the houses of spendthrifts we hear a flute-playing girl\nearly in the morning, and see \"the dregs of wine,\" as one said, and\nfragments of garlands, and the servants at the doors reeking of\nyesterday's debauch; but for tokens of savage and peevish masters these\nyou will see by the faces, and marks, and manacles of their servants:\nfor in the house of an angry man\n\n  \"The only music ever heard is wailing,\"\n\nstewards being beaten within, and maids tortured, so that the spectators\neven in their jollity and pleasure pity these victims of passion.\n\nSec. XVI. Moreover those to whom it happens through their genuine hatred of\nwhat is bad to be frequently overtaken by anger, can abate its excess\nand acerbity by giving up their excessive confidence in their intimates.\nFor nothing swells the anger more, than when a good man is detected of\nvillainy, or one who we thought loved us falls out and jangles with us.\nAs for my own disposition, you know of course how mightily it inclines\nto goodwill and belief in mankind. As then people walking on empty\nspace,[706] the more confidently I believe in anybody's affection, the\nmore sorrow and distress do I feel if my estimate is a mistaken one. And\nindeed I could never divest myself of my ardour and zeal in affection,\nbut as to trusting people I could perhaps use Plato's caution as a curb.\nFor he said he so praised Helicon the mathematician, because he was by\nnature a changeable animal, but that he was afraid of those that were\nwell educated in the city, lest, being human beings and the seed of\nhuman beings, they should reveal by some trait or other the weakness of\nhuman nature. But Sophocles' line,\n\n  \"Trace out most human acts, you'll find them base,\"\n\nseems to trample on human nature and lower its merits too much. Still\nsuch a peevish and condemnatory verdict as this has a tendency to make\npeople milder in their rage, for it is the sudden and unexpected that\nmakes people go distracted. And we ought, as Panaetius somewhere said, to\nimitate Anaxagoras, and as he said at the death of his son, \"I knew that\nI had begotten a mortal,\" so ought every one of us to use the following\nkind of language in those contretemps that stir up our anger, \"I knew\nthat the slave I bought was not a philosopher,\" \"I knew that the friend\nI had was not perfect,\" \"I knew that my wife was but a woman.\" And if\nanyone would also constantly put to himself that question of Plato, \"Am\nI myself all I should be?\" and look at home instead of abroad, and curb\nhis propensity to censoriousness, he would not be so keen to detect evil\nin others, for he would see that he stood in need of much allowance\nhimself. But now each of us, when angry and punishing, quote the words\nof Aristides and Cato, \"Do not steal, Do not tell lies,\" and \"Why are\nyou lazy?\" And, what is most disgraceful of all, we blame angry people\nwhen we are angry ourselves, and chastise in temper faults that were\ncommitted in temper, unlike the doctors who\n\n  \"With bitter physic purge the bitter bile,\"\n\nfor we rather increase and aggravate the disease. Whenever then I busy\nmyself with such considerations as these, I try also to curtail my\ncuriosity. For to scrutinize and pry into everything too minutely, and\nto overhaul every business of a servant, or action of a friend, or\npastime of a son, or whisper of a wife, produces frequent, indeed daily,\nfits of anger, caused entirely by peevishness and harshness of\ncharacter. Euripides says that the Deity\n\n  \"In great things intervenes, but small things leaves\n   To fortune;\"[707]\n\nbut I am of opinion that a prudent man should commit nothing to fortune,\nnor neglect anything, but should put some things in his wife's hands to\nmanage, others in the hands of his servants, others in the hands of his\nfriends, (as a governor has his stewards, and financiers, and\ncontrollers), while he himself superintends the most important and\nweighty matters. For as small writing strains the eyes, so small matters\neven more strain and bother people, and stir up their anger, which\ncarries this evil habit to greater matters. Above all I thought that\nsaying of Empedocles, \"Fast from evil,\"[708] a great and divine one, and\nI approved of those promises and vows as not ungraceful or\nunphilosophical, to abstain for a year from wine and Venus, honouring\nthe deity by continence, or for a stated time to give up lying, taking\ngreat heed to ourselves to be truthful always whether in play or\nearnest. With these I compared my own vow, as no less pleasing to the\ngods and holy, first to abstain from anger for a few days, like spending\ndays without drunkenness or even without wine at all, offering as it\nwere wineless offerings of honey.[709] Then I tried for a month or two,\nand so in time made some progress in forbearance by earnest resolve, and\nby keeping myself courteous and without anger and using fair language,\npurifying myself from evil words and absurd actions, and from passion\nwhich for a little unlovely pleasure pays us with great mental\ndisturbance and the bitterest repentance. In consequence of all this my\nexperience, and the assistance of the deity, has made me form the view,\nthat courtesy and gentleness and kindliness are not so agreeable, and\npleasant, and delightful, to any of those we live with as to ourselves,\nthat have those qualities.[710]\n\n    [676] Homer, \"Iliad,\" xxii. 373.\n\n    [677] Alluded to again \"On the tranquillity of the\n    mind,\" Sec. i.\n\n    [678] The allusion is to Homer's \"Odyssey,\" xx. 23.\n\n    [679] Reading [Greek: ex heautou] with Reiske.\n\n    [680] Euripides, \"Orestes,\" 72.\n\n    [681] Euripides, \"Orestes,\" 99.\n\n    [682] Fragment 361.\n\n    [683] Homer, \"Iliad,\" xvii. 591.\n\n    [684] The reading of the MSS. is [Greek: auton].\n\n    [685] Lines of Callimachus. [Greek: phlien] is the\n    admirable emendation of Salmasius.\n\n    [686] Sophocles, \"Thamyras,\" Fragm. 232.\n\n    [687] \"Iliad,\" v. 214-216.\n\n    [688] Reading [Greek: eniois], as Wyttenbach suggests.\n\n    [689] Aeschylus, \"Prometheus,\" 574, 575.\n\n    [690] It will be seen I adopt the reading and\n    punctuation of Xylander.\n\n    [691] This is the reading of Reiske and Duebner.\n\n    [692] That is _mild_. Zeus is so called, Pausanias, i.\n    37; ii. 9, 20.\n\n    [693] That is, _fierce_, _furious_. It will be seen I\n    adopt the suggestion of Reiske.\n\n    [694] Literally \"is silent about.\" It is like the saying\n    about Von Moltke that he can be silent in six or seven\n    languages.\n\n    [695] Adopting Reiske's reading.\n\n    [696] Compare Pausanias, iv. 8.\n\n    [697] Duebner puts this sentence in brackets.\n\n    [698] Sophocles, \"Antigone,\" 563, 564.\n\n    [699] Homer, \"Iliad,\" xix. 138.\n\n    [700] Homer, \"Odyssey,\" xx. 392.\n\n    [701] Or strigils.\n\n    [702] Anticyra was famous for its hellebore, which was\n    prescribed in cases of madness. See Horace, \"Satires,\"\n    ii. 3. 82, 83.\n\n    [703] Homer, \"Iliad,\" xxiv. 239, 240.\n\n    [704] A philosopher of Megara, and disciple of Socrates.\n    Compare our author, \"De Fraterno Amore,\" Sec. xviii.\n\n    [705] So Reiske. Duebner reads [Greek: phobou]. The MSS.\n    have [Greek: phonou], which Wyttenbach retains, but is\n    evidently not quite satisfied with the text. Can [Greek:\n    phthonou]--[Greek: heteron] be an account of [Greek:\n    epichairekakia]?\n\n    [706] Up in the clouds. Cf. [Greek: aerobateo].\n\n    [707] Horace, remembering these lines no doubt, says \"De\n    Arte Poetica,\" 191, 192,\n\n    \"Nec deus intersit nisi dignus vindice nodus Inciderit.\"\n\n    [708] It is quite likely that the delicious poet Robert\n    Herrick borrowed hence his \"To starve thy sin not bin,\n    That is to keep thy Lent.\" For we know he was a student\n    of the \"Moralia\" when at the University of Cambridge.\n\n    [709] See AEschylus, \"Eumenides,\" 107. Sophocles,\n    \"Oedipus Colonaeus,\" 481. See also our author's \"De\n    Sanitate Praecepta,\" Sec. xix.\n\n    [710] Jeremy Taylor has closely imitated parts of this\n    Dialogue in his \"Holy Living,\" chapter iv. sect. viii.,\n    \"Twelve remedies against anger, by way of exercise,\"\n    \"Thirteen remedies against anger, by way of\n    consideration.\" Such a storehouse did he make of the\n    \"Moralia.\"\n\n\n\n\nON CONTENTEDNESS OF MIND.[711]\n\nPLUTARCH SENDS GREETING TO PACCIUS.\n\n\nSec. I. It was late when I received your letter, asking me to write to you\nsomething on contentedness of mind, and on those things in the Timaeus\nthat require an accurate explanation. And it so fell out that at that\nvery time our friend Eros was obliged to set sail at once for Rome,\nhaving received a letter from the excellent Fundanus, urging haste\naccording to his wont. And not having as much time as I could have\nwished to meet your request, and yet not thinking for one moment of\nletting my messenger go to you entirely empty-handed, I copied out the\nnotes that I had chanced to make on contentedness of mind. For I thought\nthat you did not desire this discourse merely to be treated to a subject\nhandled in fine style, but for the real business of life. And I\ncongratulate you that, though you have friendships with princes, and\nhave as much forensic reputation as anybody, yet you are not in the same\nplight as the tragic Merops, nor have you like him by the felicitations\nof the multitude been induced to forget the sufferings of humanity; but\nyou remember, what you have often heard, that a patrician's slipper[712]\nis no cure for the gout, nor a costly ring for a whitlow, nor a diadem\nfor the headache. For how can riches, or fame, or power at court help us\nto ease of mind or a calm life, unless we enjoy them when present, but\nare not for ever pining after them when absent? And what else causes\nthis but the long exercise and practice of reason, which, when the\nunreasoning and emotional part of the soul breaks out of bounds, curbs\nit quickly, and does not allow it to be carried away headlong from its\nactual position? And as Xenophon[713] advised that we should remember\nand honour the gods most especially in prosperity, that so, when we\nshould be in any strait, we might confidently call upon them as already\nour well-wishers and friends; so sensible men would do well before\ntrouble comes to meditate on remedies how to bear it, that they may be\nthe more efficacious from being ready for use long before. For as savage\ndogs are excited at every sound, and are only soothed by a familiar\nvoice, so also it is not easy to quiet the wild passions of the soul,\nunless familiar and well-known arguments be at hand to check its\nexcitement.\n\nSec. II. He then that said, that the man that wished to have an easy mind\nought to have little to do either public or private, first of all makes\nease of mind a very costly article for us, if it is to be bought at the\nprice of doing nothing, as if he should advise every sick person,\n\n  \"Lie still, poor wretch, in bed.\"[714]\n\nAnd indeed stupor is a bad remedy for the body against despair,[715] nor\nis he any better physician of the soul who removes its trouble and\nanxiety by recommending a lazy and soft life and a leaving our friends\nand relations and country in the lurch. In the next place, it is false\nthat those that have little to do are easy in mind. For then women would\nbe easier in mind than men, since they mostly stay at home in\ninactivity, and even now-a-days it is as Hesiod says,[716]\n\n  \"The North Wind comes not near a soft-skinned maiden;\"\n\nyet griefs and troubles and unrest, proceeding from jealousy or\nsuperstition or ambition or vanity, inundate the women's part of the\nhouse with unceasing flow. And Laertes, though he lived for twenty years\na solitary life in the country,\n\n  \"With an old woman to attend on him,\n   Who duly set on board his meat and drink,\"[717]\n\nand fled from his country and house and kingdom, yet had sorrow and\ndejection[718] as a perpetual companion with leisure. And some have been\noften thrown into sad unrest merely from inaction, as the following,\n\n  \"But fleet Achilles, Zeus-sprung, son of Peleus,\n   Sat by the swiftly-sailing ships and fumed,\n   Nor ever did frequent th' ennobling council,\n   Nor ever join the war, but pined in heart,\n   Though in his tent abiding, for the fray.\"[719]\n\nAnd full of emotion and distress at this state of things he himself\nsays,\n\n  \"A useless burden to the earth I sit\n   Beside the ships.\"[720]\n\nSo even Epicurus thinks that those who are desirous of honour and glory\nshould not rust in inglorious ease, but use their natural talents in\npublic life for the benefit of the community at large, seeing that they\nare by nature so constituted that they would be more likely to be\ntroubled and afflicted at inaction, if they did not get what they\ndesired. But he is absurd in that he does not urge men of ability to\ntake part in public life, but only the restless. But we ought not to\nestimate ease or unrest of mind by our many or few actions, but by their\nfairness or foulness. For the omission of fair actions troubles and\ndistresses us, as I have said before, quite as much as the actual doing\nof foul actions.\n\nSec. III. As for those who think that one kind of life is especially free\nfrom trouble, as some think that of farmers, others that of bachelors,\nothers that of kings, Menander sufficiently exposes their error in the\nfollowing lines:\n\n  \"Phania, I thought those rich who need not borrow,\n   Nor groan at nights, nor cry out 'Woe is me,'\n   Kicked up and down in this untoward world,\n   But sweet and gentle sleep they may enjoy.\"\n\nHe then goes on to remark that he saw the rich suffering the same as the\npoor,\n\n  \"Trouble and life are truly near akin.\n   With the luxurious or the glorious life\n   Trouble consorts, and in the life of poverty\n   Lasts with it to the end.\"\n\nBut just as people on the sea, timid and prone to sea-sickness, think\nthey will suffer from it less on board a merchantman than on a boat, and\nfor the same reason shift their quarters to a trireme, but do not attain\nanything by these changes, for they take with them their timidity and\nqualmishness, so changes of life do not remove the sorrows and troubles\nof the soul; which proceed from want of experience and reflection, and\nfrom inability or ignorance rightly to enjoy the present. These afflict\nthe rich as well as the poor; these trouble the married as well as the\nunmarried; these make people shun the forum, but find no happiness in\nretirement; these make people eagerly desire introductions at court,\nthough when got they straightway care no more about them.\n\n  \"The sick are peevish in their straits and needs.\"[721]\n\nFor the wife bothers them, and they grumble at the doctor, and they find\nthe bed uneasy, and, as Ion says,\n\n  \"The friend that visits them tires their patience,\n   And yet they do not like him to depart.\"\n\nBut afterwards, when the illness is over, and a sounder condition\nsupervenes, health returns and makes all things pleasant and acceptable.\nHe that yesterday loathed eggs and cakes of finest meal and purest bread\nwill to-day eat eagerly and with appetite coarsest bread with a few\nolives and cress.\n\nSec. IV. Such contentedness and change of view in regard to every kind of\nlife does the infusion of reason bring about. When Alexander heard from\nAnaxarchus of the infinite number of worlds, he wept, and when his\nfriends asked him what was the matter, he replied, \"Is it not a matter\nfor tears that, when the number of worlds is infinite, I have not\nconquered one?\" But Crates, who had only a wallet and threadbare cloak,\npassed all his life jesting and laughing as if at a festival. Agamemnon\nwas troubled with his rule over so many subjects,\n\n  \"You look on Agamemnon, Atreus' son,\n   Whom Zeus has plunged for ever in a mass\n   Of never-ending cares.\"[722]\n\nBut Diogenes when he was being sold sat down and kept jeering at the\nauctioneer, and would not stand up when he bade him, but said joking and\nlaughing, \"Would you tell a fish you were selling to stand up?\" And\nSocrates in prison played the philosopher and discoursed with his\nfriends. But Phaeethon,[723] when he got up to heaven, wept because\nnobody gave to him his father's horses and chariot. As therefore the\nshoe is shaped by the foot, and not the foot by the shoe, so does the\ndisposition make the life similar to itself. For it is not, as one said,\ncustom that makes the best life seem sweet to those that choose it, but\nit is sense that makes that very life at once the best and sweetest. Let\nus cleanse therefore the fountain of contentedness, which is within us,\nthat so external things may turn out for our good, through our putting\nthe best face on them.\n\n  \"Events will take their course, it is no good\n   Our being angry at them, he is happiest\n   Who wisely turns them to the best account.\"[724]\n\nSec. V. Plato compared human life to a game at dice, wherein we ought to\nthrow according to our requirements, and, having thrown, to make the\nbest use of whatever turns up. It is not in our power indeed to\ndetermine what the throw will be, but it is our part, if we are wise, to\naccept in a right spirit whatever fortune sends, and so to contrive\nmatters that what we wish should do us most good, and what we do not\nwish should do us least harm. For those who live at random and without\njudgement, like those sickly people who can stand neither heat nor cold,\nare unduly elated by prosperity, and cast down by adversity; and in\neither case suffer from unrest, but 'tis their own fault, and perhaps\nthey suffer most in what are called good circumstances. Theodorus, who\nwas surnamed the Atheist, used to say that he held out arguments with\nhis right hand, but his hearers received them with their left; so\nawkward people frequently take in a clumsy manner the favours of\nfortune; but men of sense, as bees extract honey from thyme which is the\nstrongest and driest of herbs,[725] so from the least auspicious\ncircumstances frequently derive advantage and profit.\n\nSec. VI. We ought then to cultivate such a habit as this, like the man who\nthrew a stone at his dog, and missed it, but hit his step-mother, and\ncried out, \"Not so bad.\" Thus we may often turn the edge of fortune when\nthings turn not out as we wish. Diogenes was driven into exile; \"not so\nbad;\" for his exile made him turn philosopher. And Zeno of Cittium,[726]\nwhen he heard that the only merchantman he had was wrecked, cargo and\nall, said, \"Fortune, you treat me handsomely, since you reduce me to my\nthreadbare cloak and piazza.\"[727] What prevents our imitating such men\nas these? Have you failed to get some office? You will be able to live\nin the country henceforth, and manage your own affairs. Did you court\nthe friendship of some great man, and meet with a rebuff? You will live\nfree from danger and cares. Have you again had matters to deal with that\nrequired labour and thought? \"Warm water will not so much make the limbs\nsoft by soaking,\" to quote Pindar,[728] as glory and honour and power\nmake \"labour sweet, and toil to be no toil.\"[729] Or has any bad luck or\ncontumely fallen on you in consequence of some calumny or from envy? The\nbreeze is favourable that will waft you to the Muses and the Academy, as\nit did Plato when his friendship with Dionysius came to an end. It does\nindeed greatly conduce to contentedness of mind to see how famous men\nhave borne the same troubles with an unruffled mind. For example, does\nchildlessness trouble you? Consider those kings of the Romans, none of\nwhom left his kingdom to a son. Are you distressed at the pinch of\npoverty? Who of the Boeotians would you rather prefer to be than\nEpaminondas, or of the Romans than Fabricius? Has your wife been\nseduced? Have you never read that inscription at Delphi,\n\n  \"Agis the king of land and sea erected me;\"\n\nand have you not heard that his wife Timaea was seduced by Alcibiades,\nand in her whispers to her handmaidens called the child that was born\nAlcibiades? Yet this did not prevent Agis from being the most famous and\ngreatest of the Greeks. Neither again did the licentiousness of his\ndaughter prevent Stilpo from leading the merriest life of all the\nphilosophers that were his contemporaries. And when Metrocles reproached\nhim with her life, he said, \"Is it my fault or hers?\" And when Metrocles\nanswered, \"Her fault, but your misfortune,\" he rejoined, \"How say you?\nAre not faults also slips?\" \"Certainly,\" said he. \"And are not slips\nmischances in those matters wherein we slip?\" Metrocles assented. \"And\nare not mischances misfortunes in those matters wherein we mischance?\"\nBy this gentle and philosophical argument he demonstrated the Cynic's\nreproach to be an idle bark.\n\nSec. VII. But most people are troubled and exasperated not only at the bad\nin their friends and intimates, but also in their enemies. For railing\nand anger and envy and malignity and jealousy and ill-will are the bane\nof those that suffer from those infirmities, and trouble and exasperate\nthe foolish: as for example the quarrels of neighbours, and peevishness\nof acquaintances, and the want of ability in those that manage state\naffairs. By these things you yourself seem to me to be put out not a\nlittle, as the doctors in Sophocles, who\n\n  \"With bitter physic purge the bitter bile,\"[730]\n\nso vexed and bitter are you at people's weaknesses and infirmities,\nwhich is not reasonable in you. Even your own private affairs are not\nalways managed by simple and good and suitable instruments, so to speak,\nbut very frequently by sharp and crooked ones. Do not think it then\neither your business, or an easy matter either, to set all these things\nto rights. But if you take people as they are, as the surgeon uses his\nbandages and instruments for drawing teeth, and with cheerfulness and\nserenity welcome all that happens, as you would look upon barking dogs\nas only following their nature, you will be happier in the disposition\nyou will then have than you will be distressed at other people's\ndisagreeableness and shortcomings. For you will forget to make a\ncollection of disagreeable things,[731] which now inundate, as some\nhollow and low-lying ground, your littleness of mind and weakness, which\nfills itself with other people's bad points. For seeing that some of the\nphilosophers censure compassion to the unfortunate (on the ground that\nit is good to help our neighbours, and not to give way to sentimental\nsympathy in connection with them), and, what is of more importance, do\nnot allow those that are conscious of their errors and bad moral\ndisposition to be dejected and grieved at them, but bid them cure their\ndefects without grief at once, is it not altogether unreasonable, look\nyou, to allow ourselves to be peevish and vexed, because all those who\nhave dealings with us and come near us are not good and clever? Let us\nsee to it, dear Paccius, that we do not, whether we are aware of it or\nnot, play a part, really looking[732] not at the universal defects of\nthose that approach us, but at our own interests through our\nselfishness, and not through our hatred of evil. For excessive\nexcitement about things, and an undue appetite and desire for them, or\non the other hand aversion and dislike to them, engender suspiciousness\nand peevishness against persons, who were, we think, the cause of our\nbeing deprived of some things, and of being troubled with others. But he\nthat is accustomed to adapt himself to things easily and calmly is most\ncheerful and gentle in his dealings with people.\n\nSec. VIII. Wherefore let us resume our argument. As in a fever everything\nseems bitter and unpleasant to the taste, but when we see others not\nloathing but fancying the very same eatables and drinkables, we no\nlonger find the fault to be in them but in ourselves and our disease, so\nwe shall cease to blame and be discontented with the state of affairs,\nif we see others cheerfully and without grief enduring the same. It also\nmakes for contentedness, when things happen against our wish, not to\noverlook our many advantages and comforts, but by looking at both good\nand bad to feel that the good preponderate. When our eyes are dazzled\nwith things too bright we turn them away, and ease them by looking at\nflowers or grass, while we keep the eyes of our mind strained on\ndisagreeable things, and force them to dwell on bitter ideas, well-nigh\ntearing them away by force from the consideration of pleasanter things.\nAnd yet one might apply here, not unaptly, what was said to the man of\ncuriosity,[733]\n\n  \"Malignant wretch, why art so keen to mark\n   Thy neighbour's fault, and seest not thine own?\"\n\nWhy on earth, my good sir, do you confine your view to your troubles,\nmaking them so vivid and acute, while you do not let your mind dwell at\nall on your present comforts? But as cupping-glasses draw the worst\nblood from the flesh, so you force upon your attention the worst things\nin your lot: acting not a whit more wisely than that Chian, who, selling\nmuch choice wine to others, asked for some sour wine for his own supper;\nand one of his slaves being asked by another, what he had left his\nmaster doing, replied, \"Asking for bad when good was by.\" For most\npeople overlook the advantages and pleasures of their individual lives,\nand run to their difficulties and grievances. Aristippus, however, was\nnot such a one, for he cleverly knew as in a scale to make the better\npreponderate over the worse. So having lost a good farm, he asked one of\nthose who made a great show of condolence and sympathy, \"Have you not\nonly one little piece of ground, while I have three fields left?\" And\nwhen he admitted that it was so, he went on to say, \"Ought I not then to\ncondole with you rather than you with me?\" For it is the act of a madman\nto distress oneself over what is lost, and not to rejoice at what is\nleft; but like little children, if one of their many playthings be taken\naway by anyone, throw the rest away and weep and cry out, so we, if we\nare assailed by fortune in some one point, wail and mourn and make all\nother things seem unprofitable in our eyes.\n\nSec. IX. Suppose someone should say, What blessings have we? I would reply,\nWhat have we not? One has reputation, another a house, another a wife,\nanother a good friend. When Antipater of Tarsus was reckoning up on his\ndeath-bed his various pieces of good fortune, he did not even pass over\nhis favourable voyage from Cilicia to Athens. So we should not overlook,\nbut take account of everyday blessings, and rejoice that we live, and\nare well, and see the sun, and that no war or sedition plagues our\ncountry, but that the earth is open to cultivation, the sea secure to\nmariners, and that we can speak or be silent, lead a busy or an idle\nlife, as we choose. We shall get more contentedness from the presence of\nall these blessings, if we fancy them as absent, and remember from time\nto time how people ill yearn for health, and people in war for peace,\nand strangers and unknown in a great city for reputation and friends,\nand how painful it is to be deprived of all these when one has once had\nthem. For then each of these blessings will not appear to us only great\nand valuable when it is lost, and of no value while we have it. For not\nhaving it cannot add value to anything. Nor ought we to amass things we\nregard as valuable, and always be on the tremble and afraid of losing\nthem as valuable things, and yet, when we have them, ignore them and\nthink little of them; but we ought to use them for our pleasure and\nenjoyment, that we may bear their loss, if that should happen, with more\nequanimity. But most people, as Arcesilaus said, think it right to\ninspect minutely and in every detail, perusing them alike with the eyes\nof the body and mind, other people's poems and paintings and statues,\nwhile they neglect to study their own lives, which have often many not\nunpleasing subjects for contemplation, looking abroad and ever admiring\nother people's reputations and fortunes, as adulterers admire other\nmen's wives, and think cheap of their own.\n\nSec. X. And yet it makes much for contentedness of mind to look for the\nmost part at home and to our own condition, or if not, to look at the\ncase of people worse off than ourselves, and not, as most people do, to\ncompare ourselves with those who are better off. For example, those who\nare in chains think those happy who are freed from their chains, and\nthey again freemen, and freemen citizens, and they again the rich, and\nthe rich satraps, and satraps kings, and kings the gods, content with\nhardly anything short of hurling thunderbolts and lightning. And so they\never want something above them, and are never thankful for what they\nhave.\n\n  \"I care not for the wealth of golden Gyges,\"\n\nand,\n\n  \"I never had or envy or desire\n   To be a god, or love for mighty empire,\n   Far distant from my eyes are all such things.\"\n\nBut this, you will say, was the language of a Thasian. But you will find\nothers, Chians or Galatians or Bithynians, not content with the share of\nglory or power they have among their fellow-citizens, but weeping\nbecause they do not wear senators' shoes; or, if they have them, that\nthey cannot be praetors at Rome; or, if they get that office, that they\nare not consuls; or, if they are consuls, that they are only proclaimed\nsecond and not first. What is all this but seeking out excuses for being\nunthankful to fortune, only to torment and punish oneself? But he that\nhas a mind in sound condition, does not sit down in sorrow and dejection\nif he is less renowned or rich than some of the countless myriads of\nmankind that the sun looks upon, \"who feed on the produce of the wide\nworld,\"[734] but goes on his way rejoicing at his fortune and life, as\nfar fairer and happier than that of myriads of others. In the Olympian\ngames it is not possible to be the victor by choosing one's competitors.\nBut in the race of life circumstances allow us to plume ourselves on\nsurpassing many, and to be objects of envy rather than to have to envy\nothers, unless we pit ourselves against a Briareus or a Hercules.\nWhenever then you admire anyone carried by in his litter as a greater\nman than yourself, lower your eyes and look at those that bear the\nlitter. And when you think the famous Xerxes happy for his passage over\nthe Hellespont, as a native of those parts[735] did, look too at those\nwho dug through Mount Athos under the lash, and at those whose ears and\nnoses were cut off because the bridge was broken by the waves, consider\ntheir state of mind also, for they think your life and fortunes happy.\nSocrates, when he heard one of his friends saying, \"How dear this city\nis! Chian wine costs one mina,[736] a purple robe three, and half a pint\nof honey five drachmae,\" took him to the meal market, and showed him half\na peck of meal for an obol, then took him to the olive market, and\nshowed him a peck of olives for two coppers, and lastly showed him that\na sleeveless vest[737] was only ten drachmae. At each place Socrates'\nfriend exclaimed, \"How cheap this city is!\" So also we, when we hear\nanyone saying that our affairs are bad and in a woful plight, because we\nare not consuls or governors, may reply, \"Our affairs are in an\nadmirable condition, and our life an enviable one, seeing that we do not\nbeg, nor carry burdens, nor live by flattery.\"\n\nSec. XI. But since through our folly we are accustomed to live more with an\neye to others than ourselves, and since nature is so jealous and envious\nthat it rejoices not so much in its own blessings as it is pained by\nthose of others, do not look only at the much-cried-up splendour of\nthose whom you envy and admire, but open and draw, as it were, the gaudy\ncurtain of their pomp and show, and peep within, you will see that they\nhave much to trouble them, and many things to annoy them. The well-known\nPittacus,[738] whose fame was so great for fortitude and wisdom and\nuprightness, was once entertaining some guests, and his wife came in in\na rage and upset the table, and as the guests were dismayed he said,\nEvery one of you has some trouble, and he who has mine only is not so\nbad off.\n\n  \"Happy is he accounted at the forum,\n   But when he opens the door of his own house\n   Thrice miserable; for his wife rules all,\n   Still lords it over him, and is ever quarrelling.\n   Many griefs has he that I wot not of.\"\n\nMany such cases are there, unknown to the public, for family pride casts\na veil over them, to be found in wealth and glory and even in royalty.\n\n  \"O happy son of Atreus, child of destiny,\n   Blessed thy lot;\"[739]\n\ncongratulation like this comes from an external view, from a halo of\narms and horses and the pomp of war, but the inward voice of emotion\ntestifies against all this vain glory;\n\n  \"A heavy fate is laid on me by Zeus\n   The son of Cronos.\"[740]\n\nAnd,\n\n  \"Old man, I think your lot one to be envied,\n   As that of any man who free from danger\n   Passes his life unknown and in obscurity.\"[741]\n\nBy such reflections as these one may wean oneself from that discontent\nwith one's fortune, which makes one's own condition look low and mean\nfrom too much admiring one's neighbour's.\n\nSec. XII. Another thing, which is a great hindrance to peace of mind, is\nnot to proportion our desires to our means, but to carry too much sail,\nas it were, in our hopes of great things and then, if unsuccessful, to\nblame destiny and fortune, and not our own folly. For he is not\nunfortunate who wishes to shoot with a plough, or hunt the hare with an\nox; nor has he an evil genius opposed to him, who does not catch deer\nwith fishing nets, but merely is the dupe of his own stupidity and folly\nin attempting impossibilities. Self-love is mainly to blame, making\npeople fond of being first and aspiring in all matters, and insatiably\ndesirous to engage in everything. For people not only wish at one and\nthe same time to be rich, and learned, and strong, and boon-companions,\nand agreeable, and friends of kings, and governors of cities, but they\nare also discontented if they have not dogs and horses and quails and\ncocks of the first quality. Dionysius the elder was not content with\nbeing the most powerful monarch of his times, but because he could not\nbeat Philoxenus the poet in singing, or surpass Plato in dialectics, was\nso angry and exasperated that he put the one to work in his stone\nquarries, and sent the other to AEgina and sold him there. Alexander was\nof a different spirit, for when Crisso the famous runner ran a race with\nhim, and seemed to let the king outrun him on purpose, he was greatly\ndispleased. Good also was the spirit of Achilles in Homer, who, when he\nsaid,\n\n  \"None of the Achaean warriors is a match\n   For me in war,\"\n\nadded,\n\n                   \"Yet in the council hall\n  Others there are who better are than me.\"[742]\n\nAnd when Megabyzus the Persian visited the studio of Apelles, and began\nto chatter about art, Apelles stopped him and said, \"While you kept\nsilence you seemed to be somebody from your gold and purple, but now\nthese lads that are grinding colours are laughing at your nonsense.\" But\nsome who think the Stoics only talk idly, in styling their wise man not\nonly prudent and just and brave but also orator and general and poet and\nrich man and king, yet claim for themselves all those titles, and are\nindignant if they do not get them. And yet even among the gods different\nfunctions are assigned to different personages; thus one is called the\ngod of war, another the god of oracles, another the god of gain, and\nAphrodite, as she has nothing to do with warlike affairs, is despatched\nby Zeus to marriages and bridals.\n\nSec. XIII. And indeed there are some pursuits which cannot exist together,\nbut are by their very nature opposed. For example oratory and the study\nof the mathematics require ease and leisure; whereas political ability\nand the friendship of kings cannot be attained without mixing in affairs\nand in public life. Moreover wine and indulgence in meat make the body\nindeed strong and vigorous, but blunt the intellect; and though\nunremitting attention to making and saving money will heap up wealth,\nyet despising and contemning riches is a great help to philosophy. So\nthat all things are not within any one's power, and we must obey that\nsaying inscribed in the temple of Apollo at Delphi, _Know thyself_,[743]\nand adapt ourselves to our natural bent, and not drag and force nature\nto some other kind of life or pursuit. \"The horse to the chariot, and\nthe ox to the plough, and swiftly alongside the ship scuds the dolphin,\nwhile he that meditates destruction for the boar must find a staunch\nhound.\"[744] But he that chafes and is grieved that he is not at one and\nthe same time \"a lion reared on the mountains, exulting in his\nstrength,\"[745] and a little Maltese lap-dog[746] reared in the lap of a\nrich widow, is out of his senses. And not a whit wiser is he who wishes\nto be an Empedocles, or Plato, or Democritus, and write about the world\nand the real nature of things, and at the same time to be married like\nEuphorion to a rich wife, or to revel and drink with Alexander like\nMedius; and is grieved and vexed if he is not also admired for his\nwealth like Ismenias, and for his virtue like Epaminondas. But runners\nare not discontented because they do not carry off the crowns of\nwrestlers, but rejoice and delight in their own crowns. \"You are a\ncitizen of Sparta: see you make the most of her.\" So too said Solon:\n\n  \"We will not change our virtue for their wealth,\n   For virtue never dies, but wealth has wings,\n   And flies about from one man to another.\"\n\nAnd Strato the natural philosopher, when he heard that Menedemus had\nmany more pupils than he had, said, \"Is it wonderful at all that more\nwish to wash than to be anointed?\" And Aristotle, writing to Antipater,\nsaid, \"Not only has Alexander a right to plume himself on his rule over\nmany subjects, but no less legitimate is satisfaction at entertaining\nright opinions about the gods.\" For those that think so highly of their\nown walk in life will not be so envious about their neighbours'. We do\nnot expect a vine to bear figs, nor an olive grapes, yet now-a-days,\nwith regard to ourselves, if we have not at one and the same time the\nprivilege of being accounted rich and learned, generals and\nphilosophers, flatterers and outspoken, stingy and extravagant, we\nslander ourselves and are dissatisfied, and despise ourselves as living\na maimed and imperfect life. Furthermore, we see that nature teaches us\nthe same lesson.[747] For as she provides different kinds of beasts with\ndifferent kinds of food, and has not made all carnivorous, or\nseed-pickers, or root-diggers, so she has given to mankind various means\nof getting a livelihood, \"one by keeping sheep, another by ploughing,\nanother by fowling,\"[748] and another by catching the fish of the sea.\nWe ought each therefore to select the calling appropriate for ourselves\nand labour energetically in it, and leave other people to theirs, and\nnot demonstrate Hesiod as coming short of the real state of things when\nhe said,\n\n  \"Potter is wroth with potter, smith with smith.\"[749]\n\nFor not only do people envy those of the same trade and manner of life,\nbut the rich envy the learned, and the famous the rich, and advocates\nsophists, aye, and freemen and patricians admire and think happy\ncomedians starring it at the theatres, and dancers, and the attendants\nat kings' courts, and by all this envy give themselves no small trouble\nand annoyance.\n\nSec.XIV. But that every man has in himself the magazines of content or\ndiscontent, and that the jars containing blessings and evils are not on\nthe threshold of Zeus,[750] but lie stored in the mind, is plain from\nthe differences of men's passions. For the foolish overlook and neglect\npresent blessings, through their thoughts being ever intent on the\nfuture; but the wise make the past clearly present to them through\nmemory. For the present giving only a moment of time to the touch, and\nthen evading our grasp, does not seem to the foolish to be ours or to\nbelong to us at all. And like that person[751] painted as rope-making in\nHades and permitting an ass feeding by to eat up the rope as fast as he\nmakes it, so the stupid and thankless forgetfulness of most people comes\nupon them and takes possession of them, and obliterates from their mind\nevery past action, whether success, or pleasant leisure, or society, or\nenjoyment, and breaks the unity of life which arises from the past being\nblended with the present; for detaching to-day from both yesterday and\nto-morrow, it soon makes every event as if it had never happened from\nlack of memory. For as those in the schools, who deny the growth of our\nbodies by reason of the continual flux of substance, make each of us in\ntheory different from himself and another man, so those who do not keep\nor recall to their memory former things, but let them drift, actually\nempty themselves daily, and hang upon the morrow, as if what happened a\nyear ago, or even yesterday and the day before yesterday, had nothing to\ndo with them, and had hardly occurred at all.\n\nSec. XV. This is one great hindrance to contentedness of mind, and another\nstill greater is whenever, like flies that slide down smooth places in\nmirrors, but stick fast in rough places or where there are cracks, men\nlet pleasant and agreeable things glide from their memory, and pin\nthemselves down to the remembrance of unpleasant things; or rather, as\nat Olynthus they say beetles, when they get into a certain place called\nDestruction-to-beetles, cannot get out, but fly round and round till\nthey die, so men will glide into the remembrance of their woes, and will\nnot give themselves a respite from sorrow. But, as we use our brightest\ncolours in a picture, so in the mind we ought to look at the cheerful\nand bright side of things, and hide and keep down the gloomy, for we\ncannot altogether obliterate or get rid of it. For, as the strings of\nthe bow and lyre are alternately tightened and relaxed, so is it with\nthe order of the world; in human affairs there is nothing pure and\nwithout alloy. But as in music there are high and low notes, and in\ngrammar vowels and mutes, but neither the musician nor grammarian\ndecline to use either kinds, but know how to blend and employ them both\nfor their purpose, so in human affairs which are balanced one against\nanother,--for, as Euripides says,\n\n  \"There is no good without ill in the world,\n   But everything is mixed in due proportion,\"--\n\nwe ought not to be disheartened or despondent; but as musicians drown\ntheir worst music with the best, so should we take good and bad\ntogether, and make our chequered life one of convenience and harmony.\nFor it is not, as Menander says,\n\n  \"Directly any man is born, a genius\n   Befriends him, a good guide to him for life,\"\n\nbut it is rather, as Empedocles states, two fates or genii take hold of\neach of us when we are born and govern us. \"There were Chthonia and\nfar-seeing Heliope, and cruel Deris, and grave Harmonia, and Callisto,\nand AEschra, and Thoosa, and Denaea, and charming Nemertes, and Asaphea\nwith the black fruit.\"\n\nSec. XVI. And as[752] at our birth we received the mingled seeds of each of\nthese passions, which is the cause of much irregularity, the sensible\nperson hopes for better things, but expects worse, and makes the most of\neither, remembering that wise maxim, _Not too much of anything._ For not\nonly will he who is least solicitous about to-morrow best enjoy it when\nit comes, as Epicurus says, but also wealth, and renown, and power and\nrule, gladden most of all the hearts of those who are least afraid of\nthe contrary. For the immoderate desire for each, implanting a most\nimmoderate fear of losing them, makes the enjoyment of them weak and\nwavering, like a flame under the influence of a wind. But he whom reason\nenables to say to fortune without fear or trembling,\n\n  \"If you bring any good I gladly welcome it,\n   But if you fail me little does it trouble me,\"\n\nhe can enjoy the present with most zest through his confidence, and\nabsence of fear of the loss of what he has, which would be unbearable.\nFor we may not only admire but also imitate the behaviour of Anaxagoras,\nwhich made him cry out at the death of his son, \"I knew I had begot a\nmortal,\" and apply it to every contingency. For example, \"I know that\nwealth is ephemeral and insecure; I know that those who gave power can\ntake it away again; I know that my wife is good, but still a woman; and\nthat my friend, since a human being, is by nature a changeable animal,\nto use Plato's expression.\" For such a prepared frame of mind, if\nanything happens unwished for but not unexpected, not admitting of such\nphrases as \"I shouldn't have dreamed of it,\" or \"I expected quite a\ndifferent lot,\" or \"I didn't look for this,\" abates the violent[753]\nbeatings and palpitations of the heart, and quickly causes wild unrest\nto subside. Carneades indeed reminds us that in great matters the\nunexpected makes the sum total of grief and dejection. Certainly the\nkingdom of Macedonia was many times smaller than the Roman Empire, but\nwhen Perseus lost Macedonia, he not only himself bewailed his wretched\nfate, but seemed to all men the most unfortunate and unlucky of mankind;\nyet AEmilius who conquered him, though he had to give up to another the\ncommand both by land and sea, yet was crowned, and offered sacrifice,\nand was justly esteemed happy. For he knew that he had taken a command\nwhich he would have to give up, but Perseus lost his kingdom without\nexpecting it. Well also has the poet[754] shown the power of anything\nthat happens unexpectedly. For Odysseus wept bitterly at the death of\nhis dog, but was not so moved when he sat by his wife who wept, for in\nthe latter case he had come fully determined to keep his emotion under\nthe control of reason, whereas in the former it was against his\nexpectation, and therefore fell upon him as a sudden blow.\n\nSec. XVII. And since generally speaking some things which happen against\nour will pain and trouble us by their very nature, while in the case of\nmost we accustom ourselves and learn to be disgusted with them from\nfancy, it is not unprofitable to counteract this to have ever ready that\nline of Menander,\n\n  \"You suffer no dread thing but in your fancy.\"\n\nFor what, if they touch you neither in soul nor body, are such things to\nyou as the low birth of your father, or the adultery of your wife, or\nthe loss of some prize or precedence, since even by their absence a man\nis not prevented from being in excellent condition both of body and\nsoul. And with respect to the things that seem to pain us by their very\nnature, as sickness, and anxieties, and the deaths of friends and\nchildren, we should remember, that line of Euripides,\n\n  \"Alas! and why alas? we only suffer\n   What mortals must expect.\"\n\nFor no argument has so much weight with emotion when it is borne down\nwith grief, as that which reminds it of the common and natural necessity\nto which man is exposed owing to the body, the only handle which he\ngives to fortune, for in his most important and influential part[755] he\nis secure against external things. When Demetrius captured Megara, he\nasked Stilpo if any of his things had been plundered, and Stilpo\nanswered, \"I saw nobody carrying off anything of mine.\"[756] And so when\nfortune has plundered us and stripped us of everything else, we have\nthat within ourselves\n\n  \"Which the Achaeans ne'er could rob us of.\"[757]\n\nSo that we ought not altogether to abase and lower nature, as if she had\nno strength or stability against fortune; but on the contrary, knowing\nthat the rotten and perishable part of man, wherein alone he lies open\nto fortune, is small, while we ourselves are masters of the better part,\nwherein are situated our greatest blessings, as good opinions and\nteaching and virtuous precepts, all which things cannot be abstracted\nfrom us or perish, we ought to look on the future with invincible\ncourage, and say to fortune, as Socrates is supposed to have said to his\naccusers Anytus and Melitus before the jury, \"Anytus and Melitus can\nkill me, but they cannot hurt me.\" For fortune can afflict us with\ndisease, take away our money, calumniate us to the people or king, but\ncannot make a good and brave and high-souled man bad and cowardly and\nlow and ignoble and envious, nor take away that disposition of mind,\nwhose constant presence is of more use for the conduct of life than the\npresence of a pilot at sea. For the pilot cannot make calm the wild wave\nor wind, nor can he find a haven at his need wherever he wishes, nor can\nhe await his fate with confidence and without trembling, but as long as\nhe has not despaired, but uses his skill, he scuds before the gale,\n\"lowering his big sail, till his lower mast is only just above the sea\ndark as Erebus,\" and sits at the helm trembling and quaking. But the\ndisposition of a wise man gives calm even to the body, mostly cutting\noff the causes of diseases by temperance and plain living and moderate\nexercise; but if some beginning of trouble arise from without, as we\navoid a sunken rock, so he passes by it with furled sail, as Asclepiades\nputs it; but if some unexpected and tremendous gale come upon him and\nprove too much for him, the harbour is at hand, and he can swim away\nfrom the body, as from a leaky boat.\n\nSec. XVIII. For it is the fear of death, and not the desire of life, that\nmakes the foolish person to hang to the body, clinging to it, as\nOdysseus did to the fig-tree from fear of Charybdis that lay below,\n\n  \"Where the wind neither let him stay, or sail,\"\n\nso that he was displeased at this, and afraid of that. But he who\nunderstands somehow or other the nature of the soul, and reflects that\nthe change it will undergo at death will be either to something better\nor at least not worse, he has in his fearlessness of death no small help\nto ease of mind in life. For to one who can enjoy life when virtue and\nwhat is congenial to him have the upper hand, and that can fearlessly\ndepart from life, when uncongenial and unnatural things are in the\nascendant, with the words on his lips,\n\n  \"The deity shall free me, when I will,\"[758]\n\nwhat can we imagine could befall such a man as this that would vex him\nand wear him and harass him? For he who said, \"I have anticipated you, O\nfortune, and cut off all your loopholes to get at me,\" did not trust to\nbolts or keys or walls, but to determination and reason, which are\nwithin the power of all persons that choose. And we ought not to despair\nor disbelieve any of these sayings, but admiring them and emulating them\nand being enthusiastic about them, we ought to try and test ourselves in\nsmaller matters with a view to greater, not avoiding or rejecting that\nself-examination, nor sheltering ourselves under the remark, \"Perhaps\nnothing will be more difficult.\" For inertia[759] and softness are\ngenerated by that self-indulgence which ever occupies itself only with\nthe easiest tasks, and flees from the disagreeable to what is most\npleasant. But the soul that accustoms itself to face steadily sickness\nand grief and exile, and calls in reason to its help in each case, will\nfind in what appears so sore and dreadful much that is false, empty, and\nrotten, as reason will show in each case.\n\nSec. XIX. And yet many shudder at that line of Menander,\n\n  \"No one can say, I shall not suffer this or that,\"\n\nbeing ignorant how much it helps us to freedom from grief to practise to\nbe able to look fortune in the face with our eyes open, and not to\nentertain fine and soft fancies, like one reared in the shade on many\nhopes that always yield and never resist. We can, however, answer\nMenander's line,\n\n  \"No one can say, I shall not suffer this or that,\"\n\nfor a man can say, \"I will not do this or that, I will not lie, I will\nnot play the rogue, I will not cheat, I will not scheme.\" For this is in\nour power, and is no small but great help to ease of mind. As on the\ncontrary\n\n  \"The consciousness of having done ill deeds,\"[760]\n\nlike a sore in the flesh, leaves in the mind a regret which ever wounds\nit and pricks it. For reason banishes all other griefs, but itself\ncreates regret when the soul is vexed with shame and self-tormented. For\nas those who shudder in ague-fits or burn in fevers feel more trouble\nand distress than those who externally suffer the same from cold or\nheat, so the grief is lighter which comes externally from chance, but\nthat lament,\n\n  \"None is to blame for this but I myself,\"\n\ncoming from within on one's own misdeeds, intensifies one's bitterness\nby the shame felt. And so neither costly house, nor quantity of gold,\nnor pride of race, nor weighty office, nor grace of language, nor\neloquence, impart so much calm and serenity to life, as a soul pure from\nevil acts and desires, having an imperturbable and undefiled character\nas the source of its life; whence good actions flow, producing an\nenthusiastic and cheerful energy accompanied by loftiness of thought,\nand a memory sweeter and more lasting than that hope which Pindar says\nis the support of old age. Censers do not, as Carneades said, after they\nare emptied, long retain their sweet smell; but in the mind of the wise\nman good actions always leave a fresh and fragrant memory, by which joy\nis watered and flourishes, and despises those who wail over life and\nabuse it as a region of ills, or as a place of exile for souls in this\nworld.\n\nSec. XX. I am very taken with Diogenes' remark to a stranger at Lacedaemon,\nwho was dressing with much display for a feast, \"Does not a good man\nconsider every day a feast?\" And a very great feast too, if we live\nsoberly. For the world is a most holy and divine temple, into which man\nis introduced at his birth, not to behold motionless images made by\nhands, but those things (to use the language of Plato) which the divine\nmind has exhibited as the visible representations of invisible things,\nhaving innate in them the principle of life and motion, as the sun moon\nand stars, and rivers ever flowing with fresh water, and the earth\naffording maintenance to plants and animals. Seeing then that life is\nthe most complete initiation into all these things, it ought to be full\nof ease of mind and joy; not as most people wait for the festivals of\nCronos[761] and Dionysus and the Panathenaea and other similar days, that\nthey may joy and refresh themselves with bought laughter, paying actors\nand dancers for the same. On such occasions indeed we sit silently and\ndecorously, for no one wails when he is initiated, or groans when he\nbeholds the Pythian games, or when he is drinking at the festival of\nCronos:[761] but men shame the festivals which the deity supplies us\nwith and initiates us in, passing most of their time in lamentation and\nheaviness of heart and distressing anxiety. And though men delight in\nthe pleasing notes of musical instruments, and in the songs of birds,\nand behold with joy the animals playing and frisking, and on the\ncontrary are distressed when they roar and howl and look savage; yet in\nregard to their own life, when they see it without smiles and dejected,\nand ever oppressed and afflicted by the most wretched sorrows and toils\nand unending cares, they do not think of trying to procure alleviation\nand ease. How is this? Nay, they will not even listen to others'\nexhortation, which would enable them to acquiesce in the present without\nrepining, and to remember the past with thankfulness, and to meet the\nfuture hopefully and cheerfully without fear or suspicion.\n\n    [711] Or cheerfulness, or tranquillity of mind. Jeremy\n    Taylor has largely borrowed again from this treatise in\n    his \"Holy Living,\" ch. ii. Sec. 6, \"Of Contentedness in all\n    Estates and Accidents.\"\n\n    [712] Reading with Salmasius [Greek: kaltios patrikios].\n\n    [713] \"Locus Xenophontis est Cyropaed.,\" l. i. p.\n    52.--_Reiske._\n\n    [714] Euripides, \"Orestes,\" 258.\n\n    [715] So Wyttenbach, Duebner. Vulgo [Greek:\n    anaisthesias--aponia.]\n\n    [716] \"Works and Days,\" 519.\n\n    [717] \"Odyssey,\" i. 191, 192.\n\n    [718] I read [Greek: katepheian].\n\n    [719] \"Iliad,\" i. 488-492.\n\n    [720] \"Iliad,\" xviii. 104.\n\n    [721] Euripides, \"Orestes,\" 232.\n\n    [722] Homer, \"Iliad,\" x. 88, 89.\n\n    [723] The story of Phaeethon is a very well-known one,\n    and is recorded very fully by Ovid in the\n    \"Metamorphoses,\" Book ii.\n\n    [724] Euripides, \"Bellerophon.\" Fragm. 298.\n\n    [725] Supplying [Greek: phyton] with Reiske.\n\n    [726] In Cyprus. Zeno was the founder of the Stoics.\n\n    [727] Zeno and his successors taught in the Piazza at\n    Athens called the Painted Piazza. See Pausanias, i. 15.\n\n    [728] Pindar, Nem. iv. 6.\n\n    [729] Euripides, \"Bacchae,\" 66.\n\n    [730] Quoted again by our author \"On Restraining Anger,\"\n    Sec. xvi.\n\n    [731] As will be seen, I follow Wyttenbach's guidance in\n    this very corrupt passage, which is a true crux.\n\n    [732] Reading [Greek: dedorkotes].\n\n    [733] See \"On Curiosity,\" Sec. i.\n\n    [734] Simonides.\n\n    [735] See Herodotus, vii. 56.\n\n    [736] A mina was 100 drachmae (_i.e._ L4. 1_s._ 3_d._),\n    and 600 obols.\n\n    [737] A slave's ordinary dress.\n\n    [738] One of the Seven Wise Men.\n\n    [739] Homer, \"Iliad,\" iii. 182.\n\n    [740] Homer, \"Iliad,\" ii. 111.\n\n    [741] Words of Agamemnon to the House Porter. Euripides,\n    \"Iphigenia in Aulis,\" 17-19.\n\n    [742] \"Iliad,\" xviii. 105, 106.\n\n    [743] See Pausanias, x. 24.\n\n    [744] Pindar, Fragm., 258. Quoted \"On Moral Virtue,\" Sec.\n    xii.\n\n    [745] Homer, \"Iliad,\" xvii. 61; \"Odyssey,\" vi. 130.\n\n    [746] A famous breed of dogs from the island Melita,\n    near Dalmatia. See Pliny, \"Hist. Nat.,\" iii. 26, extr. Sec.\n    30; xxx. 5, extr. Sec. 14.\n\n    [747] That _Non omnia possumus omnes_.\n\n    [748] Pindar, \"Isthm.,\" i. 65-70.\n\n    [749] Hesiod, \"Works and Days,\" 25. Our \"two of a trade\n    seldom agree.\"\n\n    [750] An allusion to \"Iliad,\" xxiv. 527-533.\n\n    [751] Ocnus. See Pausanias, x. 29.\n\n    [752] So Wyttenbach, who reads [Greek: Hos de touton].\n\n    [753] Reading [Greek: oia] with Reiske.\n\n    [754] Homer to wit.\n\n    [755] The soul.\n\n    [756] The reading here is rather doubtful. That I have\n    adopted is Reiske's and Wyttenbach's.\n\n    [757] \"Iliad,\" v. 484.\n\n    [758] Euripides, \"Bacchae,\" 498. Compare Horace,\n    \"Epistles,\" i. xvi. 78, 79.\n\n    [759] Reading with Duebner [Greek: argian]. Reiske has\n    [Greek: atonian].\n\n    [760] Euripides, \"Orestes,\" 396.\n\n    [761] The _Saturnalia_ (as the Romans called this feast)\n    was well known as a festival of merriment and license.\n\n\n\n\nON ENVY AND HATRED.\n\n\nSec. I. Outwardly there seems no difference between hatred and envy, but\nthey seem identical. For generally speaking, as vice has many hooks, and\nis swayed hither and thither by the passions that hang on it, there are\nmany points of contact and entanglement between them, for as in the case\nof illnesses there is a sympathy between the various passions. Thus the\nprosperous man is equally a source of pain to hate and envy. And so we\nthink benevolence the opposite of both these passions, being as it is a\nwish for our neighbour's good, and we think hate and envy identical, for\nthe desire of both is the very opposite of benevolence. But since their\nsimilarities are not so great as their dissimilarities, let us\ninvestigate and trace out these two passions from their origin.\n\nSec. II. Hatred then is generated by the fancy that the person hated is\neither bad generally or bad to oneself. For those who think they are\nwronged naturally hate those who they think wrong them, and dislike and\nare on their guard against those who are injurious or bad to\nothers;[762] but people envy merely those they think prosperous. So envy\nseems illimitable, being, like ophthalmia, troubled at everything\nbright, whereas hatred is limited, since it settles only on what seems\nhostile.\n\nSec. III. In the second place people feel hatred even against the brutes;\nfor some hate cats and beetles and toads and serpents. Thus Germanicus\ncould not bear the crowing or sight of a cock, and the Persian magicians\nkill their mice, not only hating them themselves but thinking them\nhateful to their god, and the Arabians and Ethiopians abominate them as\nmuch. Whereas we envy only human beings.\n\nSec. IV. Indeed among the brutes it is not likely that there should be any\nenvy, for they have no conception of prosperity or adversity, nor have\nthey any idea of reputation or want of reputation, which are the things\nthat mainly excite envy; but they hate one another, and are hostile to\none another, and fight with one another to the death, as eagles and\ndragons, crows and owls, titmice and finches, insomuch that they say\nthat even the blood of these creatures will not mix, and if you try to\nmix it it will immediately separate again. It is likely also that there\nis strong hatred between the cock and the lion, and the pig and the\nelephant, owing to fear. For what people fear they naturally hate. We\nsee also from this that envy differs from hatred, for the animals are\ncapable of the one, but not of the other.\n\nSec. V. Moreover envy against anyone is never just, for no one wrongs\nanother by his prosperity, though that is what he is envied for; but\nmany are hated with justice, for we even think others[763] worthy of\nhatred, if they do not flee from such, and are not disgusted and vexed\nat them. A great indication of this is that some people admit they hate\nmany, but declare they envy nobody. Indeed hatred of evil is reckoned\namong praiseworthy things; and when some were praising Charillus, the\nnephew of Lycurgus and king of Sparta, for his mildness and gentleness,\nhis colleague said, \"How can Charillus be good, who is not even harsh to\nthe bad?\" And so the poet described the bodily defects of Thersites at\nmuch length, whereas he expressed his vile moral character most shortly\nand by one remark, \"He was most hateful both to Achilles and\nOdysseus.\"[764] For to be hated by the most excellent is the height of\nworthlessness. But people deny that they are envious, and, if they are\ncharged with being so, they put forward ten thousand pleas, saying they\nare angry with the man or fear him or hate him, suggesting any other\npassion than envy, and concealing it as the only disorder of the soul\nwhich is abominable.\n\nSec. VI. Of necessity then these two passions cannot, like plants, be fed\nand nourished and grow on the same roots; for they are by nature\ndifferent.[765] For we hate people more as they grow worse, but they are\nenvied only the more the more they advance in virtue. And so\nThemistocles, when quite a lad, said he had done nothing remarkable, for\nhe was not yet envied. For as insects attack most ripe corn and roses in\ntheir bloom, so envy fastens most on the good and on those who are\ngrowing in virtue and good repute for moral character. Again extreme\nbadness intensifies hatred. So hated indeed and loathed were the\naccusers of Socrates, as guilty of extreme vileness, by their\nfellow-citizens, that they would neither supply them with fire, nor\nanswer their questions, nor touch the water they had bathed in, but\nordered the servants to pour it away as polluted, till they could bear\nthis hatred no longer and hung themselves. But splendid and exceptional\nsuccess often extinguishes envy. For it is not likely that anyone envied\nAlexander or Cyrus, after their conquests made them lords of the world.\nBut as the sun, when it is high over our heads and sends down its rays,\nmakes next to no shadow, so at those successes that attain such a height\nas to be over its head envy is humbled, and retires completely dazzled.\nSo Alexander had none to envy him, but many to hate him, by whom he was\nplotted against till he died. So too misfortunes stop envy, but they do\nnot remove hatred. For people hate their enemies even when they lie\nprostrate at their feet, but no one envies the unfortunate. But the\nremark of one of the sophists of our day is true, that the envious are\nvery prone to pity; so here too there is a great difference between\nthese two passions, for hatred abandons neither the fortunate nor\nunfortunate, whereas envy is mitigated in the extreme of either fortune.\n\nSec. VII. Let as look at the same again from opposite points of view. Men\nput an end to their enmity and hatred, either if persuaded they have not\nbeen wronged, or if they come round to the view that those they hated\nare good men and not bad, or thirdly if they receive a kindness. For, as\nThucydides says, the last favour conferred, even though a smaller one,\nif it be seasonable, outweighs a greater offence.[766] Yet the\npersuasion that they have not been wronged does not put an end to envy,\nfor people envy although absolutely persuaded that they have not been\nwronged; and the two other cases actually increase envy; for people look\nwith an evil eye even more on those they think good, as having virtue,\nwhich is the greatest blessing; and if they are treated kindly by the\nprosperous it grieves them, for they envy both their will and power to\ndo kindnesses, the former proceeding from their goodness, the latter\nfrom their prosperity, but both being blessings. Thus envy is a passion\naltogether different from hatred, seeing that what abates the one pains\nand exasperates the other.\n\nSec. VIII. Let us now look at the intent of each of these passions. The\nintent of the person who hates is to do as much harm as he can, so they\ndefine hatred to be a disposition and intent on the watch for an\nopportunity to do harm. But this is altogether foreign to envy.[767] For\nthose who envy their relations and friends would not wish them to come\nto ruin, or fall into calamity, but are only annoyed at their\nprosperity; and would hinder, if they could, their glory and renown, but\nthey would not bring upon them irremediable misfortunes: they are\ncontent to remove, as in the case of a lofty house, what stands in their\nlight.\n\n    [762] [Greek: allos] MSS. Wyttenbach [Greek: allon].\n    Malo [Greek: allois].\n\n    [763] So Wyttenbach.\n\n    [764] Homer, \"Iliad,\" ii. 220.\n\n    [765] So Wyttenbach. The reading in this passage is very\n    doubtful.\n\n    [766] Thucydides, i. 42.\n\n    [767] Reading [Greek: apestin holos. Oi gar\n    phthonountes]. What can be made of [Greek: pollous]\n    here?\n\n\n\n\nHOW ONE CAN PRAISE ONESELF WITHOUT\nEXCITING ENVY.\n\n\nSec. I. To speak to other people about one's own importance or ability,\nHerculanus, is universally declared to be tiresome and illiberal, but in\nfact not many even of those who censure it avoid its unpleasantness.\nThus Euripides, though he says,\n\n  \"If words had to be bought by human beings,\n   No one would wish to trumpet his own praises.\n   But since one can get words _sans_ any payment\n   From lofty ether, everyone delights\n   In speaking truth or falsehood of himself,\n   For he can do it with impunity;\"\n\nyet uses much tiresome boasting, intermixing with the passion and action\nof his plays irrelevant matter about himself. Similarly Pindar says,\nthat \"to boast unseasonably is to play an accompaniment to\nmadness,\"[768] yet he does not cease to talk big about his own merit,\nwhich indeed is well worthy of encomium, who would deny it? But those\nwho are crowned in the games leave it to others to celebrate their\nvictories, to avoid the unpleasantness of singing their own praises. So\nwe are with justice disgusted at Timotheus[769] for trumpeting his own\nglory inelegantly and contrary to custom in the inscription for his\nvictory over Phrynis, \"A proud day for you, Timotheus, was it when the\nherald cried out, 'The Milesian Timotheus is victorious over the son of\nCarbo and his Ionic notes.'\" As Xenophon says, \"Praise from others is\nthe pleasantest thing a man can hear,\"[770] but to others a man's\nself-praise is most nauseous. For first we think those impudent who\npraise themselves, since modesty would be becoming even if they were\npraised by others; secondly, we think them unjust in giving themselves\nwhat they ought to receive from others; thirdly, if we are silent we\nseem to be vexed and to envy them, and if we are afraid of this\nimputation, we are obliged to heap praise upon them contrary to our real\nopinion, and to bear them out, undertaking a task more befitting gross\nflattery than honour.\n\nSec. II. And yet, in spite of all this, there are occasions when a\nstatesman may venture to speak in his own praise, not to cry up his own\nglory and merit, but when the time and matter demand that he should\nspeak the truth about himself, as he would about another; especially\nwhen it is mentioned that another has done good and excellent\nthings,[771] there is no need for him to suppress the fact that he has\ndone as well. For such self-praise bears excellent fruit, since much\nmore and better praise springs from it as from seed. For the statesman\ndoes not ask for reputation as a reward or consolation, nor is he merely\npleased at its attending upon his actions, but he values it because\ncredit and character give him opportunities to do good on a larger\nscale. For it is both easy and pleasant to benefit those who believe in\nus and are friendly to us, but it is not easy to act virtuously against\nsuspicion and calumny, and to force one's benefits on those that reject\nthem. Let us now consider, if there are any other reasons warranting\nself-praise in a statesman, what they are, that, while we avoid vain\nglory and disgusting other people, we may not omit any useful kind of\nself-praise.\n\nSec. III. That is vain glory then when men seem to praise themselves that\nthey may call forth the laudation of others; and it is especially\ndespised because it seems to proceed from ambition and an unseasonable\nopinion of oneself. For as those who cannot obtain food are forced to\nfeed on their own flesh against nature, and that is the end of famine,\nso those that hunger after praise, if they get no one else to praise\nthem, disgrace themselves by their anxiety to feed their own vanity. But\nwhen, not merely content with praising themselves, they vie with the\npraise of others, and pit their own deeds and actions against theirs,\nwith the intent of outshining them, they add envy and malignity to their\nvanity. The proverb teaches us that to put our foot into another's dance\nis meddlesome and ridiculous; we ought equally to be on our guard\nagainst intruding our own panegyric into others' praises out of envy and\nspite, nor should we allow others either to praise us then, but we\nshould make way for those that are being honoured, if they are worthy of\nhonour, and even if they seem to us undeserving of honour and worthless,\nwe ought not to strip them of their praise by self-laudation, but by\ndirect argument and proof that they are not worthy of all these\nencomiums. It is plain then that we ought to avoid all such conduct as\nthis.\n\nSec. IV. But self-praise cannot be blamed, if it is an answer to some\ncharge or calumny, as those words of Pericles, \"And yet you are angry\nwith such a man as me, a man I take it inferior to no one either in\nknowledge of what should be done, or in ability to point out the same,\nand a lover of my country to boot, and superior to bribes.\"[772] For not\nonly did he avoid all swagger and vainglory and ambition in talking thus\nloftily about himself, but he also exhibited the spirit and greatness of\nhis virtue, which could abase and crush envy because it could not be\nabased itself. For people will hardly condemn such men, for they are\nelevated and cheered and inspired by noble self-laudation such as this,\nif it have a true basis, as all history testifies. Thus the Thebans,\nwhen their generals were charged with not returning home, and laying\ndown their office of Boeotarchs when their time had expired, but instead\nof that making inroads into Laconia, and helping Messene, hardly\nacquitted Pelopidas, who was submissive and suppliant, but for\nEpaminondas,[773] who gloried in what he had done, and at last said that\nhe was ready to die, if they would confess that he had ravaged Laconia,\nand restored Messene, and made Arcadia one state, against the will of\nthe Thebans, they would not pass sentence upon him, but admired his\nheroism, and with rejoicing and smiles set him free. So too we must not\naltogether find fault with Sthenelus in Homer saying,\n\n  \"We boast ourselves far better than our fathers,\"[774]\n\nwhen we remember the words of Agamemnon,\n\n  \"How now? thou son of brave horse-taming Tydeus,\n   Why dost thou crouch for fear, and watch far off\n   The lines of battle? How unlike thy father!\"[775]\n\nFor it was not because he was defamed himself, but he stood up for his\nfriend[776] that was abused, the occasion giving him a reasonable excuse\nfor self-commendation. So too the Romans were far from pleased at\nCicero's frequently passing encomiums upon himself in the affair of\nCatiline, yet when Scipio said they ought not to try him (Scipio), since\nhe had given them the power to try anybody, they put on garlands, and\naccompanied him to the Capitol, and sacrificed with him. For Cicero was\nnot compelled to praise himself, but only did so for glory, whereas the\ndanger in which Scipio stood removed envy from him.\n\nSec. V. And not only on one's trial and in danger, but also in misfortune,\nis tall talk and boasting more suitable than in prosperity. For in\nprosperity people seem to clutch as it were at glory and enjoy it, and\nso gratify their ambition; but in adversity, being far from ambition\nowing to circumstances, such self-commendation seems to be a bearing up\nand fortifying the spirit against fortune, and an avoidance altogether\nof that desire for pity and condolence, and that humility, which we\noften find in adversity. As then we esteem those persons vain and\nwithout sense who in walking hold themselves very erect and with a stiff\nneck, yet in boxing or fighting we commend such as hold themselves up\nand alert, so the man struggling with adversity, who stands up straight\nagainst his fate, \"in fighting posture like some boxer,\"[777] and\ninstead of being humble and abject becomes through his boasting lofty\nand dignified, seems to be not offensive and impudent, but great and\ninvincible. This is why, I suppose, Homer has represented Patroclus\nmodest and without reproach in prosperity, yet at the moment of death\nsaying grandiloquently,\n\n  \"Had twenty warriors fought me such as thou,\n   All had succumbed to my victorious spear.\"[778]\n\nAnd Phocion, though in other respects he was gentle, yet after his\nsentence exhibited his greatness of soul to many others, and notably to\none of those that were to die with him, who was weeping and wailing, to\nwhom he said, \"What! are you not content to die with Phocion?\"\n\nSec. VI. Not less, but still more, lawful is it for a public man who is\nwronged to speak on his own behalf to those who treat him with\ningratitude. Thus Achilles generally conceded glory to the gods, and\nmodestly used such language as,\n\n                        \"If ever Zeus\n  Shall grant to me to sack Troy's well-built town;\"[779]\n\nbut when insulted and outraged contrary to his deserts, he utters in his\nrage boastful words,\n\n  \"Alighting from my ships twelve towns I sacked,\"[780]\n\nand,\n\n  \"For they will never dare to face my helmet\n   When it gleams near.\"[781]\n\nFor frank outspokenness, when it is part of one's defence, admits of\nboasting. It was in this spirit no doubt that Themistocles, who neither\nin word nor deed had given any offence, when he saw the Athenians were\ntired of him and treating him with neglect, did not abstain from saying,\n\"My good sirs, why do you tire of receiving benefits so frequently at\nthe same hands?\" and[782] \"When the storm is on you fly to me for\nshelter as to a tree, but when fine weather comes again, then you pass\nby and strip me of my leaves.\"\n\nSec. VII. They then that are wronged generally mention what they have done\nwell to those who are ungrateful. And the person who is blamed for what\nhe has done well is altogether to be pardoned, and not censured, if he\npasses encomiums on his own actions: for he is in the position of one\nnot scolding but making his defence. This it was that made Demosthenes'\nfreedom of speech splendid, and prevented people being wearied out by\nthe praise which in all his speech _On the Crown_ he lavished on\nhimself, pluming himself on those embassies and decrees in connection\nwith the war with which fault had been found.\n\nSec. VIII. Not very unlike this is the grace of antithesis, when a person\nshows that the opposite of what he is charged with is base and low. Thus\nLycurgus when he was charged at Athens with having bribed an informer to\nsilence, replied, \"What kind of a citizen do you think me, who, having\nhad so long time the fingering of your public money, am detected in\ngiving rather than taking unjustly?\" And Cicero, when Metellus told him\nthat he had destroyed more as a witness than he had got acquitted as an\nadvocate, answered, \"Who denies that my honesty is greater than my\neloquence?\" Compare such sayings of Demosthenes as, \"Who would not have\nbeen justified in killing me, had I tried in word only to impair the\nancient glory of our city?\"[783] And, \"What think you these wretches\nwould have said, if the states had departed, when I was curiously\ndiscussing these points?\"[784] And indeed the whole of that speech _On\nthe Crown_ most ingeniously introduces his own praises in his\nantitheses, and answers to the charges brought against him.\n\nSec. IX. However it is worth while to notice in his speech that he most\nartistically inserts praise of his audience in the remarks about\nhimself, and so makes his speech less egotistical and less likely to\nraise envy. Thus he shows how the Athenians behaved to the Euboeans and\nto the Thebans, and what benefits they conferred on the people of\nByzantium and on the Chersonese, claiming for himself only a subordinate\npart in the matter. Thus he cunningly insinuates into the audience with\nhis own praises what they will gladly hear, for they rejoice at the\nenumeration of their successes,[785] and their joy is succeeded by\nadmiration and esteem for the person to whom the success was due. So\nalso Epaminondas, when Meneclidas once jeered at him as thinking more of\nhimself than Agamemnon ever did, replied, \"It is your fault then, men of\nThebes, by whose help alone I put down the power of the Lacedaemonians in\none day.\"\n\nSec. X. But since most people very much dislike and object to a man's\npraising himself, but if he praises some one else are on the contrary\noften glad and readily bear him out, some are in the habit of praising\nin season those that have the same pursuits business and characters as\nthemselves, and so conciliate and move the audience in their own favour;\nfor the audience know at the moment such a one is speaking that, though\nhe is speaking about another, yet his own similar virtue is worthy of\ntheir praise.[786] For as one who throws in another's teeth things of\nwhich he is guilty himself must know that he upbraids himself most, so\nthe good in paying honour to the good remind those who know their\ncharacter of themselves, so that their hearers cry out at once, \"Are not\nyou such a one yourself?\" Thus Alexander honouring Hercules, and\nAndrocottus again honouring Alexander, got themselves honoured on the\nsame grounds. Dionysius on the contrary pulling Gelon to pieces, and\ncalling him the Gelos[787] of Sicily, was not aware that through his\nenvy he was weakening the importance and dignity of his own authority.\n\nSec. XI. These things then a public man must generally know and observe.\nBut those that are compelled to praise themselves do so less offensively\nif they do not ascribe all the honour to themselves, but, being aware\nthat their glory will be tiresome to others, set it down partly to\nfortune, partly to the deity. So Achilles said well,\n\n  \"Since the gods granted us to kill this hero.\"[788]\n\nWell also did Timoleon, who erected a temple at Syracuse to the goddess\nof Fortune after his success, and dedicated his house to the Good\nGenius. Excellently again did Pytho of AEnos, (when he came to Athens\nafter killing Cotys, and when the demagogues vied with one another in\npraising him to the people, and he observed that some were jealous and\ndispleased,) in coming forward and saying, \"Men of Athens, this is the\ndoing of one of the gods, I only put my hands to the work.\" Sulla also\nforestalled envy by ever praising fortune, and eventually he proclaimed\nhimself as under the protection of Aphrodite.[789] For men would rather\nascribe their defeat to fortune than the enemy's valour, for in the\nformer case they consider it an accident, whereas in the latter case\nthey would have to blame themselves and set it down to their own\nshortcomings. So they say the legislation of Zaleucus pleased the\nLocrians not least, because he said that Athene visited him from time to\ntime, and suggested to him and taught him his laws, and that none of\nthose he promulgated were his own idea and plan.\n\nSec. XII. Perhaps this kind of remedy by talking people over must be\ncontrived for those who are altogether crabbed or envious; but for\npeople of moderation it is not amiss to qualify excessive praise. Thus\nif anyone should praise you as learned, or rich, or influential, it\nwould be well to bid him not talk about you in that strain, but say that\nyou were good and harmless and useful. For the person that acts so does\nnot introduce his own praise but transfers it, nor does he seem to\nrejoice in people passing encomiums upon him, but rather to be vexed at\ntheir praising him inappropriately and on wrong grounds, and he seems to\nhide bad traits by better ones, not wishing to be praised, but showing\nhow he ought to be praised. Such seems the intent of such words as the\nfollowing, \"I have not fortified the city with stones or bricks, but if\nyou wish to see how I have fortified it, you will find arms and horses\nand allies.\"[790] Still more in point are the last words of Pericles.\nFor as he was dying, and his friends very naturally were weeping and\nwailing, and reminded him of his military services and his power, and\nthe trophies and victories and towns he had won for Athens, and was\nleaving as a legacy, he raised himself up a little and blamed them as\npraising him for things common to many, and some of them the results of\nfortune rather than merit, while they had passed over the best and\ngreatest of his deeds and one peculiarly his own, that he had never been\nthe cause of any Athenian's wearing mourning. This gives the orator an\nexample, if he be a good man, when praised for his eloquence, to\ntransfer the praise to his life and character, and the general who is\nadmired for his skill and good fortune in war to speak with confidence\nabout his gentleness and uprightness. And again, if any very extravagant\npraise is uttered, such as many people use in flattery which provokes\nenvy, one can reply,\n\n  \"I am no god; why do you liken me\n   To the immortals?\"[791]\n\nIf you really know me, praise my integrity, or my sobriety, or my\nkindheartedness, or my philanthropy. For even envy is not reluctant to\ngive moderate praise to one that deprecates excessive praise, and true\npanegyric is not lost by people refusing to accept idle and false\npraise. So those kings who would not be called gods or the sons of gods,\nbut only fond of their brothers or mother, or benefactors,[792] or dear\nto the gods, did not excite the envy of those that honoured them by\nthose titles, that were noble but still such as men might claim. Again,\npeople dislike those writers or speakers who entitle themselves wise,\nbut they welcome those who content themselves with saying that they are\nlovers of philosophy, and have made some progress, or use some such\nmoderate language about themselves as that, which does not excite envy.\nBut rhetorical sophists, who expect to hear \"Divine, wonderful, grand,\"\nat their declamations, are not even welcomed with \"Pretty fair, so so.\"\n\nSec. XIII. Moreover, as people anxious not to injure those who have weak\neyes, draw a shade over too much light, so some people make their praise\nof themselves less glaring and absolute, by pointing out some of their\nsmall defects, or miscarriages, or errors, and so remove all risk of\nmaking people offended or envious. Thus Epeus, who boasts very much of\nhis skill in boxing, and says very confidently,\n\n  \"I can your body crush, and break your bones,\"[793]\n\nyet says,\n\n  \"Is't not enough that I'm in fight deficient?\"[794]\n\nBut Epeus is perhaps a ridiculous instance, excusing his bragging as an\nathlete by his confession of timidity and want of manliness. But\nagreeable and graceful is that man who mentions his own forgetfulness,\nor ignorance, or ambition, or eager desire for knowledge and\nconversation. Thus Odysseus of the Sirens,\n\n  \"My heart to listen to them did incline,\n   I bade my comrades by a nod to unloose me.\"[795]\n\nAnd again of the Cyclops,\n\n  \"I did not hearken (it had been far better),\n   I wished to see the Cyclops, and to taste\n   His hospitality.\"[796]\n\nAnd generally speaking the admixture with praise of such faults as are\nnot altogether base and ignoble stops envy. Thus many have blunted the\npoint of envy by admitting and introducing, when they have been praised,\ntheir past poverty and straits, aye, and their low origin. So Agathocles\npledging his young men in golden cups beautifully chased, ordered some\nearthenware pots to be brought in, and said, \"See the fruits of\nperseverance, labour, and bravery! Once I produced pots like these, but\nnow golden cups.\" For Agathocles it seems was so low-born and poor that\nhe was brought up in a potter's shop, though afterwards he was king of\nalmost all Sicily.\n\nSec. XIV. These are external remedies against self-praise. There are other\ninternal ones as it were, such as Cato applied, when he said \"he was\nenvied, because he had to neglect his own affairs, and lie awake every\nnight for the interests of his country.\" Compare also the following\nlines,\n\n  \"How should I boast? who could with ease have been\n   Enrolled among the many in the army,\n   And had a fortune equal to the wisest;\"[797]\n\nand,\n\n  \"I shrink from squandering past labours' grace,\n   Nor do I now reject all present toil.\"[797]\n\nFor as it is with house and farm, so also is it with glory and\nreputation, people for the most part envy those who have got them easily\nor for nothing, not those who have bought them at the cost of much toil\nand danger.\n\nSec. XV. Since then we can praise ourselves not only without causing pain\nor envy but even usefully and advantageously, let us consider, that we\nmay not seem to have only that end in view but some other also, if we\nmight praise ourselves to excite in our hearers emulation and ambition.\nFor Nestor, by reciting his battles and acts of prowess, stirred up\nPatroclus and nine others to single combat with Hector. For the\nexhortation that adds deed to word and example and proper emulation is\nanimating and moving and stimulating, and with its impulse and\nresolution inspires hope that the things we aim at are attainable and\nnot impossible. That is why in the choruses at Lacedaemon the old men\nsing,\n\n  \"We once were young and vigorous and strong,\"\n\nand then the boys,\n\n  \"We shall be stronger far than now we are,\"\n\nand then the youths,\n\n  \"We now are strong, look at us if you like.\"\n\nIn this wise and statesmanlike manner did the legislator exhibit to the\nyoung men the nearest and dearest examples of what they should do in the\npersons of those who had done so.\n\nSec. XVI. Moreover it is not amiss sometimes, to awe and repress and take\ndown and tame the impudent and bold, to boast and talk a little big\nabout oneself. As Nestor did, to mention him again,\n\n  \"For I have mixed ere now with better men\n   Than both of you, and ne'er did they despise me.\"[798]\n\nSo also Aristotle told Alexander that not only had they that were rulers\nover many subjects a right to think highly of themselves, but also those\nthat had right views about the gods. Useful too against our enemies and\nfoes is the following line,\n\n  \"Ill-starred are they whose sons encounter me.\"[799]\n\nCompare also the remark of Agesilaus about the king of the Persians, who\nwas called great, \"How is he greater than me, if he is not also more\nupright?\" And that also of Epaminondas to the Lacedaemonians who were\ninveighing against the Thebans, \"Anyhow we have made you talk at greater\nlength than usual.\" But these kind of remarks are fitting for enemies\nand foes; but our boasting is also good on occasion for friends and\nfellow-citizens, not only to abate their pride and make them more\nhumble, but also when they are in fear and dejection to raise them up\nagain and give them confidence. Thus Cyrus talked big in perils and on\nbattle-fields, though at other times he was no boaster. And the second\nAntigonus, though he was on all other occasions modest and far from\nvanity, yet in the sea-fight off Cos, when one of his friends said to\nhim, \"See you not how many more ships the enemy have got than we have?\"\nanswered, \"How many do you make me equal to then?\" This Homer also seems\nto have noticed. For he has represented Odysseus, when his comrades were\ndreadfully afraid of the noise and whirlpool of Charybdis, reminding\nthem of his former cleverness and valour;\n\n  \"We are in no worse plight than when the Cyclops\n   By force detained us in his hollow cave;\n   But even then, thanks to my valour, judgement,\n   And sense, we did escape.\"[800]\n\nFor such is not the self-praise of a demagogue or sophist, or of one\nthat asks for clapping or applause, but of one who makes his valour and\nexperience a pledge of confidence to his friends. For in critical\nconjunctures the reputation and credit of one who has experience and\ncapacity in command plays a great part in insuring safety.\n\nSec. XVII. As I have said before, to pit oneself against another's praise\nand reputation is by no means fitting for a public man: however, in\nimportant matters, where mistaken praise is injurious and detrimental,\nit is not amiss to confute it, or rather to divert the hearer to what is\nbetter by showing him the difference between true and false merit.\nAnyone would be glad, I suppose, when vice was abused and censured, to\nsee most people voluntarily keep aloof from it; but if vice should be\nwell thought of, and honour and reputation come to the person who\npromoted its pleasures or desires, no nature is so well constituted or\nstrong that it would not be mastered by it. So the public man must\noppose the praise not of men but of bad actions, for such praise is\ncorrupting, and causes people to imitate and emulate what is base as if\nit were noble. But it is best refuted by putting it side by side with\nthe truth: as Theodorus the tragic actor is reported to have said once\nto Satyrus the comic actor, \"It is not so wonderful to make an audience\nlaugh as to make them weep and cry.\" But what if some philosopher had\nanswered him, \"To make an audience weep and cry is not so noble a thing\nas to make them forget their sorrows.\" This kind of self-laudation\nbenefits the hearer, and changes his opinion. Compare the remark of Zeno\nin reference to the number of Theophrastus' scholars, \"His is a larger\nbody, but mine are better taught.\" And Phocion, when Leosthenes was\nstill in prosperity, being asked by the orators what benefit he had\nconferred on the city, replied, \"Only this, that during my period of\noffice there has been no funeral oration, but all the dead have been\nburied in their fathers' sepulchres.\" Wittily also did Crates parody the\nlines,\n\n  \"Eating and wantonness and love's delights\n   Are all I value,\"\n\nwith\n\n  \"Learning and those grand things the Muses teach one\n   Are all I value.\"\n\nSuch self-praise is good and useful and teaches people to admire and\nlove what is valuable and expedient instead of what is vain and\nsuperfluous. Let so much suffice on the question proposed.\n\nSec. XVIII. It remains to me now to point out, what our subject next\ndemands and calls for, how everyone may avoid unseasonable self-praise.\nFor there is a wonderful incentive to talking about oneself in\nself-love, which is frequently strongly implanted in those who seem to\nhave only moderate aspirations for fame. For as it is one of the rules\nto preserve good health to avoid altogether places where sickness is, or\nto exercise the greatest precaution if one must go there, so talking\nabout oneself has its slippery times and places that draw it on on any\npretext. For first, when others are praised, as I said before, ambition\nmakes people talk about themselves, and a certain desire and impulse for\nfame which is hard to check bites and tickles that ambition, especially\nif the other person is praised for the same things or less important\nthings than the hearer thinks he is a proficient in. For as hungry\npeople have their appetite more inflamed and sharpened by seeing others\neat, so the praise of one's neighbours makes those who eagerly desire\nfame to blaze out into jealousy.\n\nSec. XIX. In the second place the narration of things done successfully and\nto people's mind entices many unawares to boasting and bragging in their\njoy; for falling into conversation about their victories, or success in\nstate affairs, or their words or deeds commended by great men, they\ncannot keep themselves within bounds. With this kind of self-laudation\nyou may see that soldiers and sailors are most taken. To be in this\nstate of mind also frequently happens to those who have returned from\nimportant posts and responsible duties, for in their mention of\nillustrious men and men of royal rank they insert the encomiums they\nhave passed on themselves, and do not so much think they are praising\nthemselves as merely repeating the praises of others about themselves.\nOthers think their hearers do not detect them at all of self-praise,\nwhen they recount the greeting and welcome and kindness they have\nreceived from kings and emperors, but only imagine them to be\nenumerating the courtesy and kindliness of those great personages. So we\nmust be very much on our guard in praising others to free ourselves from\nall suspicion of self-love and self-recommendation, and not to seem to\nbe really praising ourselves \"under pretext of Patroclus.\"[801]\n\nSec. XX. Moreover that kind of conversation that mainly consists of\ncensuring and running down others is dangerous as giving opportunity for\nself-laudation to those who pine for fame. A fault into which old men\nespecially fall, when they are led to scold others and censure their bad\nways and faulty actions, and so extol themselves as being remarkably the\nopposite. In old men we must allow all this, especially if to age they\nadd reputation and merit, for such fault-finding is not without use, and\ninspires those who are rebuked with both emulation and love of\nhonour.[802] But all other persons must especially avoid and fear that\nroundabout kind of self-praise. For since generally speaking censuring\none's neighbours is disagreeable and barely tolerable and requires great\nwariness, he that mixes up his own praise with blame of another, and\nhunts for fame by defaming another, is altogether tiresome and inspires\ndisgust, for he seems to wish to get credit through trying to prove\nothers unworthy of credit.\n\nSec. XXI. Furthermore, as those that are naturally prone and inclined to\nlaughter must be especially on their guard against tickling and\ntouching, such as excites that propensity by contact with the smoothest\nparts of the body, so those that have a great passion for reputation\nought to be especially advised to abstain from praising themselves when\nthey are praised by others. For a person ought to blush when praised,\nand not to be past blushing from impudence, and ought to check those who\nextol him too highly, and not to rebuke them for praising him too\nlittle; though very many people do so, themselves prompting and\nreminding their praisers of others of their own acts and virtues, till\nby their own praise they spoil the effect of the praise that others give\nthem. For some tickle and puff themselves up by self-praise, while\nothers, malignantly holding out the small bait of eulogy, provoke others\nto talk about themselves, while others again ask questions and put\ninquiries, as was done to the soldier in Menander, merely to poke fun at\nhim;\n\n  \"'How did you get this wound?' 'Sir, by a javelin.'\n   'How in the name of Heaven?' 'I was on\n    A scaling ladder fastened to a wall.'\n    I show my wound to them in serious earnest,\n    But they for their part only mock at me.\"\n\nSec. XXII. As regards all these points then we must be on our guard as much\nas possible not to launch out into praise of ourselves, or yield to it\nin consequence of questions put to us to draw us. And the best caution\nand security against this is to pay attention to others who praise\nthemselves, and to consider how disagreeable and objectionable the\npractice is to everybody, and that no other conversation is so offensive\nand tiring. For though we cannot say that we suffer any other evil at\nthe hands of those who praise themselves, yet being naturally bored by\nthe practice, and avoiding it, we are anxious to get rid of them and\nbreathe again; insomuch that even the flatterer and parasite and needy\nperson in his distress finds the rich man or satrap or king praising\nhimself hard to bear and wellnigh intolerable; and they say that having\nto listen to all this is paying a very large shot to their\nentertainment, like the fellow in Menander;\n\n  \"To hear their foolish[803] saws, and soldier talk,\n   Such as this cursed braggart bellows forth,\n   Kills me; I get lean even at their feasts.\"\n\nFor as we may use this language not only about soldiers or men who have\nnewly become rich,[804] who spin us a long yarn of their great and grand\ndoings, being puffed up with pride and talking big about themselves; if\nwe remember that the censure of others always follows our self-praise,\nand that the end of this vain-glory is a bad repute, and that, as\nDemosthenes says,[805] the result will be that we shall only tire our\nhearers, and not be thought what we profess ourselves to be, we shall\ncease talking about ourselves, unless by so doing we can bestow great\nbenefit on ourselves or our hearers.\n\n    [768] Pindar, \"Olymp.\" ix. 57, 58.\n\n    [769] Mentioned by Pausanias, iii. 12; viii. 50.\n\n    [770] \"Memorabilia,\" ii. l. 31.\n\n    [771] Reading as Wyttenbach suggests, [Greek: malista de\n    hotan legetai ta allo pepragmena] _sq._\n\n    [772] Thucydides, ii. 60.\n\n    [773] See Pausanias, ix. 14, 15.\n\n    [774] Homer, \"Iliad,\" iv. 405.\n\n    [775] Homer, \"Iliad,\" iv. 370, 371.\n\n    [776] Diomede.\n\n    [777] Sophocles, \"Trachiniae,\" 442.\n\n    [778] Homer, \"Iliad,\" xvi. 847, 848. Plutarch only\n    quotes the first line. I have added the second for the\n    English reader, as necessary for the sense.\n\n    [779] Homer, \"Iliad,\" i. 128, 129.\n\n    [780] \"Iliad,\" ix. 328.\n\n    [781] \"Iliad,\" xvi. 70, 71. [782] So Wyttenbach.\n\n    [783] Demosthenes, \"De Corona,\" p. 260.\n\n    [784] \"De Corona,\" p. 307.\n\n    [785] After Wyttenbach.\n\n    [786] After Wyttenbach.\n\n    [787] That is, laughing-stock. A play on the word Gelon.\n\n    [788] Homer, \"Iliad,\" xxii. 379. He speaks of Hector.\n\n    [789] Others take it \"as fortune's favourite.\"\n\n    [790] Words of Demosthenes, \"De Corona,\" p. 325.\n    Plutarch condenses them.\n\n    [791] Homer, \"Odyssey,\" xvi. 187.\n\n    [792] Titles of the Ptolemies, Philadelphus Philometor,\n    Euergetes.\n\n    [793] Homer, \"Iliad,\" xxiii. 673.\n\n    [794] Ibid. 670.\n\n    [795] Homer, \"Odyssey,\" xii. 192-194.\n\n    [796] Ibid. ix. 228, 229.\n\n    [797] Fragments from the \"Philoctetes\" of Euripides.\n\n    [798] Homer, \"Iliad,\" i. 260, 261.\n\n    [799] Homer, \"Iliad,\" vi. 127.\n\n    [800] Homer, \"Odyssey,\" xii. 209-212.\n\n    [801] An allusion to Homer, \"Iliad,\" xix. 302.\n\n    [802] Adopting the reading of Duebner.\n\n    [803] Adopting the reading of Salmasius.\n\n    [804] _Nouveaux riches, novi homines_.\n\n    [805] Demosthenes, \"De Corona,\" p. 270.\n\n\n\n\nON THOSE WHO ARE PUNISHED BY THE\nDEITY LATE.\n\n_A discussion between Patrocleas, Plutarch, Timon, and\nOlympicus._\n\n\nSec. I. When Epicurus had made these remarks, Quintus, and before any of us\nwho were at the end of the porch[806] could reply, he went off abruptly.\nAnd we, marvelling somewhat at his rudeness, stood still silently but\nlooked at one another, and then turned and pursued our walk as before.\nAnd Patrocleas was the first to speak. \"Are we,\" said he, \"to leave the\nquestion unanswered, or are we to reply to his argument in his absence\nas if he were present?\" Then said Timon, \"Because he went off the moment\nhe had thrown his missile at us, it would not be good surely to leave it\nsticking in us; for we are told that Brasidas plucked the javelin that\nhad been thrown at him out of his body, and with it killed the hurler of\nit; but there is of course no need for us to avenge ourselves so on\nthose that have launched on us an absurd or false argument, it will be\nenough to dislodge the notion before it gets fixed in us.\" Then said I,\n\"Which of his words has moved you most? For the fellow seemed to rampage\nabout, in his anger and abusive language, with a long disconnected and\nrambling rhapsody drawn from all sources, and at the same time inveighed\nagainst Providence.\"\n\nSec. II. Then said Patrocleas, \"The slowness and delay of the deity in\npunishing the wicked used to seem[807] to me a very dreadful thing, but\nnow in consequence of his speech I come as it were new and fresh to the\nnotion. Yet long ago I was vexed when I heard that line of Euripides,\n\n  \"He does delay, such is the Deity\n   In nature.\"[808]\n\nFor indeed it is not fitting that the deity should be slow in anything,\nand least of all in the punishment of the wicked, seeing that they are\nnot slow or sluggish in doing evil, but are hurried by their passions\ninto crime at headlong speed. Moreover, as Thucydides[809] says, when\npunishment follows as closely as possible upon wrong-doing, it blocks up\nthe road at once for those who would follow up their villainy if it were\nsuccessful. For no debt so much as that of justice paid behind time\ndamps the hopes and dejects the mind of the wronged person, and\naggravates the audacity and daring of the wrong-doer; whereas the\npunishment that follows crime immediately not only checks future\noutbreaks but is also the greatest possible comfort to the injured. And\nso I am often troubled when I consider that remark of Bias, who told, it\nseems, a bad man that he was not afraid that he would escape punishment,\nbut that he would not live to see it. For how did the Messenians who\nwere killed long before derive any benefit from the punishment of\nAristocrates? For he had been guilty of treason at the battle of _The\nGreat Trench_, but had reigned over the Arcadians for more than twenty\nyears without being found out, but afterwards was detected and paid the\npenalty, but they were no longer alive.[810] Or what consolation was\nbrought to the people of Orchomenus, who lost their sons and friends and\nrelatives in consequence of the treason of Lyciscus, by the disease\nwhich settled upon him long afterwards and spread all over his body? For\nhe used to go and dip and soak his feet in the river, and uttered\nimprecations and prayed that they might rot off if he was guilty of\ntreason or crime. Nor was it permitted to the children's children of\nthose that were slain to see at Athens the tearing out of their graves\nthe bodies of those atrocious criminals that had killed them, and the\ncarrying them beyond their borders. And so it seems strange in Euripides\nusing the following argument to deter people from vice:\n\n  \"Fear not, for vengeance will not strike at once\n   Your heart, or that of any guilty wretch,\n   But silently and with slow foot it moves,[811]\n   And when their time's come will the wicked reach.\"\n\nThis is no doubt the very reason why the wicked incite and cheer\nthemselves on to commit lawless acts, for crime shows them a fruit\nvisible and ripe at once, but a punishment late, and long subsequent to\nthe enjoyment.\"\n\nSec. III. When Patrocleas had said thus much, Olympicus interfered, \"There\nis another consideration, Patrocleas, the great absurdity involved in\nthese delays and long-suffering of the deity. For the slowness of\npunishment takes away belief in providence, and the wicked, observing\nthat no evil follows each crime except long afterwards, attribute it\nwhen it comes to mischance, and look upon it in the light more of\naccident than punishment, and so receive no benefit from it, being\ngrieved indeed when the misfortune comes, but feeling no remorse for\nwhat they have done amiss. For, as in the case of a horse, the whipping\nor spurring that immediately follows upon a stumble or some other fault\nis a corrective and brings him to his duty, but pulling and backing him\nwith the bit and shouting at him long afterwards seems to come from some\nother motive than a desire to teach him, for he is put to pain without\nbeing shown his fault; so the vice which each time it stumbles or\noffends is at once punished and checked by correction is most\nlikely[812] to come to itself and be humble and stand in awe of the\ndeity, as one that beholds men's acts and passions and does not punish\nbehind time; whereas that justice that, according to Euripides, \"steals\non silently and with slow foot,\" and falls upon the wicked some time or\nother, seems to resemble more chance than providence by reason, of its\nuncertainty, delay, and irregularity. So that I do not see what benefit\nthere is in those mills of the gods that are said to grind late,[813]\nsince they obscure the punishment, and obliterate the fear, of\nevil-doing.\"\n\nSec. IV. When Olympicus had done speaking, and I was musing with myself on\nthe matter, Timon said, \"Am I to put the finishing touch of difficulty\non our subject, or am I to let him first contend earnestly against these\nviews?\" Then said I, \"Why should we bring up the third wave[814] and\ndrown the argument, if he is not able to refute or evade the charges\nalready brought? To begin then with the domestic hearth, as the saying\nis,[815] let us imitate that cautious manner of speaking about the deity\nin vogue among the Academic philosophers, and decline to speak about\nthese things as if we thoroughly understood them. For it is worse in us\nmortals than for people ignorant of music to discuss music, or for\npeople ignorant of military matters to discuss the art of war, to\nexamine too closely into the nature of the gods and demons, like people\nwith no knowledge of art trying to get at the intention of artists from\nopinion and fancy and probabilities. For if[816] it is no easy matter\nfor anyone not a professional to conjecture why the surgeon performed an\noperation later rather than sooner, or why he ordered his patient to\ntake a bath to-day rather than yesterday, how is it easy or safe for a\nmortal to say anything else about the deity than that he knows best the\ntime to cure vice, and applies to each his punishment as the doctor\nadministers a drug, and that a punishment not of the same magnitude, or\napplied at the same time, in all cases. For that the cure of the soul,\nwhich is called justice, is the greatest of all arts is testified by\nPindar as well as by ten thousand others, for he calls God, the ruler\nand lord of all things, the greatest artificer as the creator of\njustice, whose function it is to determine when, and how, and how far,\neach bad man is to be punished. And Plato says that Minos, the son of\nZeus, was his father's pupil in this art, not thinking it possible that\nany one could succeed in justice, or understand how to succeed in it,\nwithout he had learned or somehow got that science. For the laws which\nmen make are not always merely reasonable, nor is their meaning always\napparent, but some injunctions seem quite ridiculous, for example, the\nEphors at Lacedaemon make proclamation, directly they take office, that\nno one is to let his moustache grow, but that all are to obey the laws,\nthat they be not grievous to them. And the Romans lay a light rod on the\nbodies of those they make freemen, and when they make their wills, they\nnominate some as their heirs, while to others they sell the property,\nwhich, seems strange. But strangest of all is that ordinance of Solon,\nthat the citizen who, when his city is in faction, will not side with\neither party is to lose his civic rights. And generally one might\nmention many absurdities in laws, if one did not know the mind of the\nlegislator, or understand the reason for each particular piece of\nlegislation. How is it wonderful then, if human affairs are so difficult\nto comprehend, that it is no easy task to say in connection with the\ngods, why they punish some offenders early, and others late?\n\nSec. V. This is not a pretext for evading the subject, but merely a request\nfor lenient judgement, that our discourse, looking as it were for a\nhaven and place of refuge, may rise to the difficulty with greater\nconfidence basing itself on probability. Consider then first that,\naccording to Plato, god, making himself openly a pattern of all things\ngood, concedes human virtue, which is in some sort a resemblance to\nhimself, to those who are able to follow him. For all nature, being in\ndisorder, got the principle of change and became order[817] by a\nresemblance to and participation in the nature and virtue of the deity.\nThe same Plato also tells us that nature put eyesight into us, in order\nthat the soul by beholding and admiring the heavenly bodies might\naccustom itself to welcome and love harmony and order, and might hate\ndisorderly and roving propensities, and avoid aimless reliance on\nchance, as the parent of all vice and error. For man can enjoy no\ngreater blessing from god than to attain to virtue by the earnest\nimitation of the noblest qualities of the divine nature. And so he\npunishes the wicked leisurely and long after, not being afraid of error\nor after repentance through punishing too hastily, but to take away from\nus that eager and brutish thirst for revenge, and to teach us that we\nare not to retaliate on those that have offended us in anger, and when\nthe soul is most inflamed and distorted with passion and almost beside\nitself for rage, like people satisfying fierce thirst or hunger, but to\nimitate the mildness and long-suffering of the deity, and to avenge\nourselves in an orderly and decent manner, only when we have taken\ncounsel with time long enough to give us the least possible likelihood\nof after repentance. For it is a smaller evil, as Socrates said, to\ndrink dirty water when excessively thirsty, than, when one's mind is\ndisturbed and full of rage and fury, before it is settled and becomes\npure, to glut our revenge on the person of a relation and kinsman. For\nit is not the punishment that follows as closely as possible upon\nwrong-doing, as Thucydides said,[818] but that which is more remote,\nthat observes decorum. For as Melanthius says of anger,\n\n  \"Fell things it does when it the mind unsettles,\"[819]\n\nso also reason acts with justice and moderation, when it banishes rage\nand passion. So also people are made milder by the example of other men,\nas when they hear that Plato, when he held his stick over his slave to\ncorrect him, waited some time, as he himself has told us, to compose his\nanger; and that Archytas, having learned of some wrong or disorderly\naction on the part of some of his farm labourers, knowing that at the\ntime he was in a very great rage and highly incensed at them, did\nnothing to them, but merely departed, saying, \"You may thank your stars\nthat I am in a rage with you.\" If then the remembrance of the words and\nrecorded acts of men abates the fierceness and intensity of our rage,\nmuch more likely is it that we (observing that the deity, though without\neither fear or repentance in any case, yet puts off his punishments and\ndefers them for some time) shall be reserved in our views about such\nmatters, and shall think that mildness and long-suffering which the god\nexhibits a divine part of virtue, reforming a few by speedy punishment,\nbut benefiting and correcting many by a tardy one.\n\nSec. VI. Let us consider in the second place that punishments inflicted by\nmen for offences regard only retaliation, and, when the offender is\npunished, stop and go no further; so that they seem to follow offences\nyelping at them like a dog, and closely pursuing at their heels as it\nwere. But it is likely that the deity would look at the state of any\nguilty soul that he intended to punish, if haply it might turn and\nrepent, and would give[820] time for reformation to all whose vice was\nnot absolute and incurable. For knowing how great a share of virtue\nsouls come into the world with, deriving it from him, and how strong and\nlasting is their nobility of nature, and how it breaks out into vice\nagainst its natural disposition through the corruption of bad habits and\ncompanions, and afterwards in some cases reforms itself, and recovers\nits proper position, he does not inflict punishment on all persons\nalike; but the incorrigible he at once removes from life and cuts off,\nsince it is altogether injurious to others, but most of all to a man's\nown self, to live in perpetual vice, whereas to those who seem to have\nfallen into wrong-doing, rather from ignorance of what was good than\nfrom deliberate choice of what was bad, he gives time to repent. But if\nthey persist in vice he punishes them too, for he has no fear that they\nwill escape him. Consider also how many changes take place in the life\nand character of men, so that the Greeks give the names [Greek: tropos]\nand [Greek: ethos] to the character, the first word meaning _change_,\nand the latter the immense force and power of _habit_. I think also that\nthe ancients called Cecrops half man and half dragon[821] not because,\nas some say, he became from a good king wild and dragon-like, but\ncontrariwise because he was originally perverse and terrible, and\nafterwards became a mild and humane king. And if this is uncertain, at\nany rate we know that Gelon and Hiero, both Sicilians, and Pisistratus\nthe son of Hippocrates, though they got their supreme power by bad\nmeans, yet used it for virtuous ends, and though they mounted the throne\nin an irregular way, yet became good and useful princes. For by good\nlegislation and by encouraging agriculture they made the citizens\nearnest and industrious instead of scoffers and chatterers. As for\nGelon, after fighting valiantly and defeating the Carthaginians in a\ngreat battle, he would not conclude with them the peace they asked for\nuntil they inserted an article promising to cease sacrificing their sons\nto Cronos. And Lydiades was tyrant in Megalopolis, yet in the very\nheight of his power changing his ideas and being disgusted with\ninjustice, he restored their old constitution to the citizens,[822] and\nfell gloriously, fighting against the enemy in behalf of his country.\nAnd if any one had slain prematurely Miltiades the tyrant of the\nChersonese, or had prosecuted and got a conviction against Cimon for\nincest with his sister, or had deprived Athens of Themistocles for his\nwantonness and revellings and outrages in the market, as in later days\nAthens lost Alcibiades, by an indictment, should we not have had to go\nwithout the glory of Marathon, and Eurymedon, and beautiful Artemisium,\n\"where the Athenian youth laid the bright base of liberty?\"[823] For\ngreat natures produce nothing little, nor can their energy and activity\nrust owing to their keen intellect, but they toss to and fro as at sea\ntill they come to a settled and durable character. As then one\ninexperienced in farming, seeing a spot full of thick bushes and rank\ngrowth, full of wild beasts and streams and mud, would not think much of\nit, while to one who has learnt how to discriminate and discern between\ndifferent kind of soils all these are various tokens of the richness and\ngoodness of the land, so great natures break out into many strange\nexcesses, which exasperate us at first beyond bearing, so that we think\nit right to cut off such offenders and stop their career at once,\nwhereas a better judge, seeing the good and noble even in these, waits\nfor age and the season which nature appoints for gathering fruit to\nbring sense and virtue.\n\nSec. VII. So much for this point. Do you not think also that some of the\nGreeks did well to adopt that Egyptian law which orders a pregnant woman\ncondemned to death not to suffer the penalty till after she has given\nbirth?\" \"Certainly,\" said all the company. I continued, \"Put the case\nnot of a woman pregnant, but of a man who can in process of time bring\nto light and reveal some secret act or plan, point out some unknown\nevil, or devise some scheme of safety, or invent something useful and\nnecessary, would it not be better to defer his execution, and wait the\nresult of his meditation? That is my opinion, at least.\" \"So we all\nthink,\" said Patrocleas. \"Quite right,\" said I. \"For do but consider,\nhad Dionysius had vengeance taken on him at the beginning of his\ntyranny, none of the Greeks would have dwelt in Sicily, which was laid\nwaste by the Carthaginians. Nor would the Greeks have dwelt in\nApollonia, or Anactorium, or the peninsula of the Leucadians, had not\nPeriander's chastisement been postponed for a long time. I think also\nthat Cassander's punishment was deferred that Thebes might be repeopled.\nAnd of the mercenaries that plundered this very temple most crossed over\ninto Sicily with Timoleon, and after they had conquered the\nCarthaginians and put down their authority, perished miserably,\nmiserable wretches that they were. For no doubt the deity makes use of\nsome wicked men, as executioners, to punish others, and so I think he\ncrushes as it were most tyrants. For as the gall of the hyena and rennet\nof the seal, both nasty beasts in all other respects, are useful in\ncertain diseases, so when some need sharp correction, the deity casts\nupon them the implacable fury of some tyrant, or the savage ferocity of\nsome prince, and does not remove the bane and trouble till their fault\nbe got rid of and purged. Such a potion was Phalaris to the\nAgrigentines, and Marius to the Romans. And to the people of Sicyon the\ngod distinctly foretold that their city needed a scourge, when they took\naway from the Cleonaeans (as if he was a Sicyonian) the lad Teletias, who\nwas crowned in the Pythian games, and tore him to pieces. As for the\nSicyonians, Orthagoras became their tyrant, and subsequently Myro and\nClisthenes, and these three checked their wanton outbreaks; but the\nCleonaeans, not getting such a cure, went to ruin. You have of course\nheard Homer's lines,\n\n  \"'From a bad father sprang a son far better,\n    Excelling in all virtue;'[824]\n\n\"and yet that son of Copreus never performed any brilliant or notable\naction: but the descendants of Sisyphus and Autolycus and Phlegyas\nnourished in the glory and virtues of great kings. Pericles also sprang\nof a family under a curse,[825] and Pompey the Great at Rome was the son\nof Pompeius Strabo, whose dead body the Roman people cast out and\ntrampled upon, so great was their hatred of him. How is it strange then,\nsince the farmer does not cut down the thorn till he has taken his\nasparagus, nor do the Libyans burn the twigs till they have gathered the\nledanum, that god does not exterminate the wicked and rugged root of an\nillustrious and royal race till it has produced its fit fruit? For it\nwould have been better for the Phocians to have lost ten thousand of the\noxen and horses of Iphitus, and for more gold and silver to have gone\nfrom Delphi, than that Odysseus and AEsculapius should not have been\nborn, nor those others who from bad and wicked men became good and\nuseful.\"\n\nSec. VIII. \"And do you not all think that it is better that punishment\nshould take place at the fitting time and in the fitting manner rather\nthan quickly and on the spur of the moment? Consider the case of\nCallippus, who with the very dagger with which he slew Dion, pretending\nto be his friend, was afterwards slain by his own friends. And when\nMitius the Argive was killed in a tumult, a brazen statue in the\nmarket-place fell on his murderer and killed him during the public\ngames. And of course, Patrocleas, you know all about Bessus the Paeonian,\nand about Aristo the Oetaean leader of mercenaries.\" \"Not I, by Zeus,\"\nsaid Patrocleas, \"but I should like to hear.\" \"Aristo,\" I continued, \"at\nthe permission of the tyrants removed the necklace of Eriphyle[826]\nwhich was hung up in this temple, and took it to his wife as a present;\nbut his son being angry with his mother for some reason or other, set\nthe house on fire, and burnt all that were in it. As for Bessus, it\nseems he had killed his father, though his crime was long undiscovered.\nBut at last going to sup with some strangers, he knocked down a nest of\nswallows, pricking it with his lance, and killed all the young swallows.\nAnd when the company said, as it was likely they would, 'Whatever makes\nyou act in such a strange manner?' 'Have they not,' he replied, 'been\nlong bearing false witness against me, crying out that I had killed my\nfather?' And the company, astonished at his answer, laid the matter\nbefore the king, and the affair was inquired into, and Bessus punished.\"\n\nSec. IX. \"These cases,\" I continued, \"we cite supposing, as has been laid\ndown, that there is a deferring of punishment to the wicked; and, for\nthe rest, I think we ought to listen to Hesiod, who tells us--not like\nPlato, who asserts that punishment is a condition that follows\ncrime--that it is contemporaneous with it, and grows with it from the\nsame source and root. For Hesiod says,\n\n  \"Evil advice is worst to the adviser;\"[827]\n\nand,\n\n  \"He who plots mischief 'gainst another brings\n   It first on his own pate.\"[828]\n\nThe cantharis is said to have in itself the antidote to its own sting,\nbut wickedness, creating its own pain and torment, pays the penalty of\nits misdeeds not afterwards but at the time of its ill-doing. And as\nevery malefactor about to pay the penalty of his crime in his person\nbears his cross, so vice fabricates for itself each of its own torments,\nbeing the terrible author of its own misery in life, wherein in addition\nto shame it has frequent fears and fierce passions and endless remorse\nand anxiety. But some are just like children, who, seeing malefactors in\nthe theatres in golden tunics and purple robes with crowns on and\ndancing, admire them and marvel at them, thinking them happy, till they\nsee them goaded and lashed and issuing fire from their gaudy but cheap\ngarments.[829] For most wicked people, though they have great households\nand conspicuous offices and great power, are yet being secretly punished\nbefore they are seen to be murdered or hurled down rocks, which is\nrather the climax and end of their punishment than the punishment\nitself. For as Plato tells us that Herodicus the Selymbrian having\nfallen into consumption, an incurable disease, was the first of mankind\nto mix exercise with the art of healing, and so prolonged his own life\nand that of others suffering from the same disease, so those wicked\npersons who seem to avoid immediate punishment, receive a longer and not\nslower punishment, not later but extending over a wider period; for they\nare not punished in their old age, but rather grow old in perpetual\npunishment. I speak of course of long time as a human being, for to the\ngods all the period of man's life is as nothing, and so to them 'now and\nnot thirty years ago' means no more than with us torturing or hanging a\nmalefactor in the evening instead of the morning would mean; especially\nas man is shut up in life as in a prison from which there is no egress\nor escape, and though doubtless during his life he has much feasting and\nbusiness and gifts and favours and amusement, yet, just like people\nplaying at dice or draughts in a prison, the rope is all the time\nhanging over his head.\"[830]\n\nSec. X. \"And indeed what prevents our asserting that people in prison under\nsentence of death are not punished till their heads are cut off, or that\nthe person who has taken hemlock, and walks about till he feels it is\ngetting into his legs, suffers not at all till he is deprived of\nsensation by the freezing and curdling of his blood, if we consider the\nlast moment of punishment all the punishment, and ignore all the\nintermediate sufferings and fears and anxiety and remorse, the destiny\nof every guilty wretch? That would be arguing that the fish that has\nswallowed the hook is not caught, till we see it boiled by the cook or\nsliced at table. For every wrong-doer is liable to punishment, and soon\nswallows the pleasantness of his wrong-doing like a bait, while his\nconscience still vexes and troubles him,\n\n  \"As through the sea the impetuous tunny darts.\"\n\nFor the recklessness and audacity of vice is strong and rampant till the\ncrime is committed, but afterwards, when the passion subsides like a\nstorm, it becomes timid and dejected and a prey to fears and\nsuperstitions. So that Stesichorus in his account of Clytaemnestra's\ndream may have represented the facts and real state of the case, where\nhe says, \"A dragon seemed to appear to her with its lofty head smeared\nall over with blood, and out of it seemed to come king Orestes the\ngrandson of Plisthenes.\" For visions in dreams, and apparitions during\nthe day, and oracles, and lightning, and whatever is thought to come\nfrom the deity, bring tempests of apprehension to the guilty. So they\nsay that one time Apollodorus in a dream saw himself flayed by the\nScythians, and then boiled, and that his heart out of the caldron spoke\nto him in a low voice and said, \"I am the cause of this;\" and at another\ntime he dreamed that he saw his daughters running round him in a circle\nall on fire and in flames. And Hipparchus the son of Pisistratus, a\nlittle before his death, dreamt that Aphrodite threw some blood on his\nface out of a certain phial. And the friends of Ptolemy Ceraunus dreamed\nthat he was summoned for trial by Seleucus, and that the judges were\nvultures and wolves, who tore his flesh and distributed it wholesale\namong his enemies. And Pausanias at Byzantium, having sent for Cleonice\na free-born maiden, intending to outrage her and pass the night with\nher, being seized with some alarm or suspicion killed her, and\nfrequently saw her in his dreams saying to him, \"Come near for\njudgement, lust is most assuredly a grievous bane to men,\" and as this\napparition did not cease, he sailed, it seems, to Heraclea to the place\nwhere the souls of the dead could be summoned, and by propitiations and\nsacrifices called up the soul of the maiden, and she appeared to him and\ntold him that this trouble would end when he got to Lacedaemon, and\ndirectly he got there he died.\"[831]\n\nSec. XI. \"And so, if nothing happens to the soul after death, but that\nevent is the end of all enjoyment or punishment, one would be rather\ninclined to say that the deity was lax and indulgent in quickly\npunishing the wicked and depriving them of life. For even if we were to\nsay that the wicked had no other trouble in a long life, yet, when their\nwrong-doing was proved to bring them no profit or enjoyment, no good or\nadequate return for their many and great anxieties, the consciousness of\nthat would be quite enough to throw[832] their mind off its balance. So\nthey record of Lysimachus that he was so overcome by thirst that he\nsurrendered himself and his forces to the Getae for some drink, but after\nhe had drunk and bethought him that he was now a captive, he said,\n\"Alas! How guilty am I for so brief a gratification to lose so great a\nkingdom!\" And yet it is very difficult to resist a necessity of nature.\nBut when a man, either for the love of money, or for political place or\npower, or carried away by some amorous propensity, does some lawless and\ndreadful deed, and, after his eager desire is satisfied, sees in process\nof time that only the base and terrible elements of his crime remain,\nwhile nothing useful, or necessary, or advantageous has flowed from it,\nis it not likely that the idea would often present itself to him that,\nmoved by vain-glory, or for some illiberal and unlovely pleasure, he had\nviolated the greatest and noblest rights of mankind, and had filled his\nlife with shame and trouble? For as Simonides used to say playfully that\nhe always found his money-chest full but his gratitude-chest empty,[833]\nso the wicked contemplating their own vice soon find out that their\ngratification is joyless and hopeless,[834] and ever attended by fears\nand griefs and gloomy memories, and suspicions about the future, and\ndistrust about the present. Thus we hear Ino, repenting for what she had\ndone, saying on the stage,\n\n  \"Dear women, would that I could now inhabit\n   For the first time the house of Athamas,\n   Guiltless of any of my awful deeds!\"[835]\n\nIt is likely that the soul of every wicked person will meditate in this\nway, and consider how it can escape the memory of its ill-deeds, and lay\nits conscience to sleep, and become pure, and live another life over\nagain from the beginning. For there is no confidence, or reality, or\ncontinuance, or security, in what wickedness proposes to itself, unless\nby Zeus we shall say that evil-doers are wise, but wherever the greedy\nlove of wealth or pleasure or violent envy dwells with hatred and\nmalignity, there will you also see and find stationed superstition, and\nremissness for labour, and cowardice in respect to death, and sudden\ncaprice in the passions, and vain-glory and boasting. Those that censure\nthem frighten them, and they even fear those that praise them as wronged\nby their deceit, and as most hostile to the bad because they readily\npraise those they think good. For as in the case of ill-tempered steel\nthe hardness of vice is rotten, and its strength easily shattered. So\nthat in course of time, understanding their real selves, they are vexed\nand disgusted with their past life and abhor it. For if a bad man who\nrestores property entrusted to his care, or becomes surety for a friend,\nor contributes very generously and liberally to his country out of love\nof glory or honour, at once repents and is sorry for what he has done\nfrom the fickleness and changeableness of his mind; and if men applauded\nin the theatres directly afterwards groan, their love of glory subsiding\ninto love of money; shall we suppose that those who sacrificed men to\ntyrannies and conspiracies as Apollodorus did, or that those who robbed\ntheir friends of money as Glaucus the son of Epicydes did,[836] never\nrepented, or loathed themselves, or regretted their past misdeeds? For\nmy part, if it is lawful to say so, I do not think evil-doers need any\ngod or man to punish them, for the marring and troubling of all their\nlife by vice is in itself adequate punishment.\"\n\nSec. XII. \"But consider now whether I have not spoken too long.\" Then Timon\nsaid, \"Perhaps you have, considering what remains and the time it will\ntake. For now I am going to start the last question, as if it were a\ncombatant in reserve, since the other two questions have been debated\nsufficiently. For as to the charge and bold accusation that Euripides\nbrings against the gods, for visiting the sins of the parents upon the\nchildren, consider that even those of us who are silent agree with\nEuripides. For if the guilty were punished themselves there would be no\nfurther need to punish the innocent, for it is not fair to punish even\nthe guilty twice for the same offence, whereas if the gods through\neasiness remit the punishment of the wicked, and exact it later on from\nthe innocent, they do not well to compensate for their tardiness by\ninjustice. Such conduct resembles the story told of AEsop's coming to\nthis very spot,[837] with money from Croesus, to offer a splendid\nsacrifice to the god, and to give four minae to each of the Delphians.\nAnd some quarrel or difference belike ensuing between him and the\nDelphians here, he offered the sacrifice, but sent the money back to\nSardis, as though the Delphians were not worthy to receive that benefit,\nso they fabricated against him a charge of sacrilege, and put him to\ndeath by throwing him headlong down yonder rock called Hyampia. And in\nconsequence the god is said to have been wroth with them, and to have\nbrought dearth on their land, and all kinds of strange diseases, so that\nthey went round at the public festivals of the Greeks, and invited by\nproclamation whoever wished to take satisfaction of them for AEsop's\ndeath. And three generations afterwards came Idmon[838] a Samian, no\nrelation of AEsop's, but a descendant of those who had purchased AEsop as\na slave at Samos, and by giving him satisfaction the Delphians got rid\nof their trouble. And it was in consequence of this, they say, that the\npunishment of those guilty of sacrilege was transferred from Hyampia to\nNauplia.[839] And even great lovers of Alexander, as we are, do not\npraise his destroying the city of the Branchidae and putting everybody in\nit to death because their great-grandfathers betrayed the temple at\nMiletus.[840] And Agathocles, the tyrant of Syracuse, laughing and\njeering at the Corcyraeans for asking him why he wasted their island,\nreplied, \"Because, by Zeus, your forefathers welcomed Odysseus.\" And\nwhen the people of Ithaca likewise complained of his soldiers carrying\noff their sheep, he said, \"Your king came to us, and actually put out\nthe shepherd's eye to boot.\"[841] And is it not stranger still in Apollo\npunishing the present inhabitants of Pheneus, by damming up the channel\ndug to carry off their water,[842] and so flooding the whole of their\ndistrict, because a thousand years ago, they say, Hercules carried off\nto Pheneus the oracular tripod? and in telling the Sybarites that the\nonly end of their troubles would be propitiating by their ruin on three\noccasions the wrath of Leucadian Hera? And indeed it is no long time\nsince the Locrians have ceased sending maidens[843] to Troy,\n\n  \"Who without upper garments and barefooted,\n   Like slave-girls, in the early morning swept\n   Around Athene's altar all unveiled,\n   Till old age came upon them with its burdens,\"\n\nall because Ajax violated Cassandra. Where is the reason or justice in\nall this? Nor do we praise the Thracians who to this day, in honour of\nOrpheus, mark their wives;[844] nor the barbarians on the banks of the\nEridanus who, they say, wear mourning for Phaeethon. And I think it would\nbe still more ridiculous if the people living at the time Phaeethon\nperished had neglected him, and those who lived five or ten generations\nafter his tragic death had begun the practice of wearing mourning and\ngrieving for him. And yet this would be only folly, there would be\nnothing dreadful or fatal about it, but what should make the anger of\nthe gods subside at once and then afterwards, like some rivers, burst\nout against others till they completely ruin them?\n\nSec. XIII. Directly he left off, fearing that if he began again he would\nintroduce more and greater absurdities, I asked him, \"Well, do you\nbelieve all this to be true?\" And he replied, \"If not all, but only\nsome, of it is true, do you not think that the subject presents the same\ndifficulty?\" \"Perhaps,\" said I, \"it is as with those in a raging fever,\nwhether they have few or many clothes on the bed they are equally hot or\nnearly so, yet to ease them we shall do well to remove some of the\nclothes; but let us waive this point, if you don't like the line of\nargument, though a good deal of what you have said seems myth and fable,\nand let us recall to our minds the recent festival in honour of Apollo\ncalled Theoxenia,[845] and the noble share in it which the heralds\nexpressly reserve for the descendants of Pindar, and how grand and\npleasant it seemed to you.\" \"Who could help being pleased,\" said he,\n\"with such a delightful honour, so Greek and breathing the simple spirit\nof antiquity, had he not, to use Pindar's own phrase, 'a black heart\nforged when the flame was cold?'\" \"I pass over then,\" said I, \"the\nsimilar proclamation at Sparta, 'After the Lesbian singer,' in honour\nand memory of old Terpander, for it is a similar case. But you\nyourselves certainly lay claim to be better than other Boeotians as\ndescended from Opheltes,[846] and than other Phocians because of your\nancestor Daiphantus,[847] and you were the first to give me help and\nassistance in preserving for the Lycormae and Satilaei their hereditary\nprivilege of wearing crowns as descendants of Hercules, when I contended\nthat we ought to confirm the honours and favours of the descendants of\nHercules more especially because, though he was such a benefactor to the\nGreeks, he had had himself no adequate favour or return.\" \"You remind\nme,\" he said, \"of a noble effort, and one well worthy of a philosopher.\"\n\"Dismiss then,\" said I, \"my dear fellow, your vehement accusation\nagainst the gods, and do not be so vexed that some of a bad or evil\nstock are punished by them, or else do not joy in and approve of the\nhonour paid to descent from a good stock. For it is unreasonable, if we\ncontinue to show favour to a virtuous stock, to think punishment wrong\nin the case of a criminal stock, or that it should not correspond with\nthe adequate reward of merit. And he that is glad to see the descendants\nof Cimon honoured at Athens, but is displeased and indignant that the\ndescendants of Lachares or Aristo are in exile, is too soft and easy, or\nrather too fault-finding and peevish with the gods, accusing them if the\ndescendants of a bad and wicked man are fortunate, and accusing them\nalso if the progeny of the bad are wiped off the face of the earth; thus\nfinding fault with the deity alike, whether the descendants of the good\nor bad father are unfortunate.\"\n\nSec. XIV. \"Let these remarks,\" I continued, \"be your bulwarks as it were\nagainst those excessively bitter and railing accusations. And taking up\nagain as it were the initial clue to our subject, which as it is about\nthe deity is dark and full of mazes and labyrinths, let us warily and\ncalmly follow the track to what is probable and plausible, for certainty\nand truth are things very difficult to find even in every-day life. For\nexample, why are the children of those that have died of consumption or\ndropsy bidden to sit with their feet in water till the dead body is\nburnt? For that is thought to prevent the disease transferring itself to\nthem. Again, when a she-goat takes a bit of eringo into her mouth, why\ndo the whole herd stand still, till the goatherd comes up and takes it\nout of her mouth? There are other properties that have connection and\ncommunication, and that transfer themselves from one thing to another\nwith incredible[848] quickness and over immense distances. But we marvel\nmore at intervals of time than place. And yet is it more wonderful that\nAthens should have been smitten with a plague[849] that started in\nArabia, and of which Pericles died and Thucydides fell sick, than that,\nwhen the Delphians and Sybarites became wicked, vengeance should have\nfallen on their descendants.[850] For properties have relations and\nconnections between ends and beginnings, and although the reason of them\nmay not be known by us, they silently perform their errand.\"\n\nSec. XV. \"Moreover the public punishments of cities by the gods admits of a\njust defence. For a city is one continuous entity, a sort of creature\nthat never changes from age, or becomes different by time, but is ever\nsympathetic with and conformable to itself, and is answerable for\nwhatever it does or has done for the public weal, as long as the\ncommunity by its union and federal bonds preserves its unity. For he\nthat would make several, or rather any quantity of, cities out of one by\nprocess of time would be like a person who made one human being several,\nby regarding him now as an old man, now as a young man, now as a\nstripling. Or rather this kind of reasoning resembles the arguments of\nEpicharmus, from whom the sophists borrowed the piled-up method of\nreasoning,[851] for example, he incurred the debt long ago, so he does\nnot owe it now, being a different person, or, he was invited to dinner\nyesterday, but he comes uninvited to-day, for he is another person. And\nyet age produces greater changes in any individual than it does commonly\nin cities. For any one would recognize Athens again if he had not seen\nit for thirty years, for the present habits and feelings of the people\nthere, their business, amusements, likes and dislikes, are just what\nthey were long ago; whereas a man's friend or acquaintance meeting him\nafter some time would hardly recognize his appearance, for the change of\ncharacter easily introduced by every thought and deed, feeling and\ncustom, produce a wonderful strangeness and novelty in the same person.\nAnd yet a man is reckoned to be the same person from birth to death, and\nsimilarly we think it right for a city always remaining the same to be\nliable to reproach for the ill deeds of its former inhabitants, on the\nsame principle as it enjoys its ancient glory and power; or shall we,\nwithout being aware of it, throw everything into Heraclitus' river, into\nwhich he says a person cannot step twice,[852] since nature is ever\nchanging and altering everything?\"\n\nSec. XVI. \"If then a city is one continuous entity, so of course is a race\nthat starts from one beginning, that can trace back intimate union and\nsimilarity of faculties, for that which is begot is not, like some\nproduction of art, unlike the begetter, for it proceeds from him, and is\nnot merely produced by him, so that it appropriately receives his share,\nwhether that be honour or punishment. And if I should not seem to be\ntrifling, I should say that the bronze statue of Cassander melted down\nby the Athenians, and the body of Dionysius thrown out of their\nterritory by the Syracusans after his death, were treated more unjustly\nthan punishing their posterity would have been. For there was none of\nthe nature of Cassander in the statue, and the soul of Dionysius had\nleft his dead body before this outrage, whereas Nysaeus and\nApollocrates,[853] Antipater and Philip,[854] and similarly other sons\nof wicked parents had innate in them a good deal of their fathers, and\nthat no listless or inactive element, but one by which they lived and\nwere nourished, and by which their ideas were controlled. Nor is it at\nall strange or absurd that some should have their fathers'\ncharacteristics. And to speak generally, as in surgery whatever is\nuseful is also just, and that person would be ridiculous who should say\nit was unjust to cauterize the thumb when the hip-joints were in pain,\nand to lance the stomach when the liver was inflamed, or when oxen were\ntender in their hoofs to anoint the tips of their horns, so he that\nlooks for any other justice in punishment than curing vice, and is\ndissatisfied if surgery is employed to one part to benefit another, as\nsurgeons open a vein to relieve ophthalmia, can see nothing beyond the\nevidence of the senses, and does not remember that even a schoolmaster\nby correcting one lad admonishes others, and that by decimation a\ngeneral makes his whole army obey. And so not only by one part to\nanother comes benefit, but also to the soul through the soul, even more\noften than to the body through the body, come certain dispositions, and\nvices or improvement of character. For just as it is likely in the case\nof the body that the same feelings and changes will take place, so the\nsoul, being worked upon by fancies, naturally becomes better or worse\naccording as it has more confidence or fear.\"\n\nSec. XVII. While I was thus speaking, Olympicus interposed, and said, \"You\nseem in your argument to assume the important assumption of the\npermanence of the soul.\" I replied, \"You too concede it, or rather did\nconcede it. For that the deity deals with everyone according to his\nmerit has been the assumption of our argument from the beginning.\" Then\nsaid he, \"Do you think that it follows, because the gods notice our\nactions and deal with us accordingly, that souls are either altogether\nimperishable, or for some time survive dissolution?\" Then said I, \"Not\nexactly so, my good sir, but is the deity so little and so attached to\ntrifles, if we have nothing divine in ourselves, nothing resembling him,\nnothing lasting or sure, but that we all do fade as a leaf, as\nHomer[855] says, and die after a brief life, as to take the\ntrouble--like women that tend and cultivate their gardens of Adonis[856]\nin pots--to create souls to flourish in a delicate body having no\nstability only for a day, and then to be annihilated at once[857] by any\noccasion? And if you please, leaving the other gods out of the question,\nconsider the case of our god here.[858] Does it seem likely to you that,\nif he knew that the souls of the dead perish immediately, and glide out\nof their bodies like mist or smoke, he would enjoin many propitiatory\nofferings for the departed and honours for the dead, merely cheating and\nbeguiling those that believed in him? For my own part, I shall never\nabandon my belief in the permanence of the soul, unless some second\nHercules[859] shall come and take away the tripod of the Pythian\nPriestess, and abolish and destroy the oracle. For as long as many such\noracles are still given, as was said to be given to Corax of Naxos\nformerly, it is impious to declare that the soul dies.\" Then said\nPatrocleas, \"What oracle do you refer to? Who was this Corax? To me both\nthe occurrence and name are quite strange.\" \"That cannot be,\" said I,\n\"but I am to blame for using the surname instead of the name. For he\nthat killed Archilochus in battle was called Calondes, it seems, but his\nsurname was Corax. He was first rejected by the Pythian Priestess, as\nhaving slain a man sacred to the Muses, but after using many entreaties\nand prayers, and urging pleas in defence of his act, he was ordered to\ngo to the dwelling of Tettix, and appease the soul of Archilochus. Now\nthis place was Taenarum, for there they say Tettix the Cretan had gone\nwith a fleet and founded a city, and dwelt near the place where departed\nsouls were conjured up. Similarly also, when the Spartans were bidden by\nthe oracle to appease the soul of Pausanias, the necromancers were\nsummoned from Italy, and, after they had offered sacrifice, they got the\nghost out of the temple.\"\n\nSec. XVIII. \"It is one and the same argument,\" I continued, \"that confirms\nthe providence of the deity and the permanence of the soul of man, so\nthat you cannot leave one if you take away the other. And if the soul\nsurvives after death, it makes the probability stronger that rewards or\npunishments will be assigned to it. For during life the soul struggles,\nlike an athlete, and when the struggle is over, then it gets its\ndeserts. But what rewards or punishments the soul gets when by itself in\nthe unseen world for the deeds done in the body has nothing to do with\nus that are alive, and is perhaps not credited by us, and certainly\nunknown to us; whereas those punishments that come on descendants and on\nthe race are evident to all that are alive, and deter and keep back many\nfrom wickedness. For there is no more disgraceful or bitter punishment\nthan to see our children in misfortune through our faults, and if the\nsoul of an impious or lawless man could see after death, not his statues\nor honours taken from him, but his children or friends or race in great\nadversity owing to him, and paying the penalty for his misdeeds, no one\nwould ever persuade him, could he come to life again, to be unjust and\nlicentious, even for the honours of Zeus. I could tell you a story on\nthis head, which I recently heard, but I hesitate to do so, lest you\nshould regard it only as a myth; I confine myself therefore to\nprobability.\" \"Pray don't,\" said Olympicus, \"let us have your story.\"\nAnd as the others made the same request, I said, \"Permit me first to\nfinish my discourse according to probability, and then, if you like, I\nwill set my myth a going, if it is a myth.\"\n\nSec. XIX. Bion says the deity in punishing the children of the wicked for\ntheir fathers' crimes is more ridiculous than a doctor administering a\npotion to a son or grandson for a father's or grandfather's disease. But\nthe cases, though in some respects similar and like, are in others\ndissimilar. For to cure one person of a disease does not cure another,\nnor is one any better, when suffering from ophthalmia or fever, by\nseeing another anointed or poulticed. But the punishments of evil-doers\nare exhibited to everybody for this reason, that it is the function of\njustice, when it is carried out as reason dictates, to check some by the\npunishment of others. So that Bion did not see in what respect his\ncomparison touched our subject. For sometimes, when a man falls into a\ngrievous but not incurable malady, which afterwards by intemperance and\nnegligence ruins his constitution and kills him, is not his son, who is\nnot supposed to be suffering from the same malady but only to have a\npredisposition for it, enjoined to a careful manner of living by his\nmedical man, or friend, or intelligent trainer in gymnastics, or honest\nguardian, and recommended to abstain from fish and pastry, wine and\nwomen, and to take medicine frequently, and to go in for training in the\ngymnasiums, and so to dissipate and get rid of the small seeds of what\nmight be a serious malady, if he allowed it to come to a head? Do we not\nindeed give advice of this kind to the children of diseased fathers or\nmothers, bidding them take care and be cautious and not to neglect\nthemselves, but at once to arrest the first germ, of the malady, nipping\nit in the bud while removable, and before it has got a firm footing in\nthe constitution?\" \"Certainly we do,\" said all the company. \"We are not\nthen,\" I continued, \"acting in a strange or ridiculous but in a\nnecessary and useful way, in arranging their exercise and food and\nphysic for the sons of epileptic or atrabilious or gouty people, not\nwhen they are ill, but to prevent their becoming so. For the offspring\nof a poor constitution does not require punishment, but it does require\nmedical treatment and care, and if any one stigmatizes this, because it\ncurtails pleasure and involves some self-denial and pain, as a\npunishment inflicted by cowardice and timidity, we care not for his\nopinion. Can it be right to tend and care for the body that has an\nhereditary predisposition to some malady, and are we to neglect the\ngrowth and spread in the young character of hereditary taint of vice,\nand to dally with it, and wait till it be plainly mixed up with the\nfeelings, and, to use the language of Pindar, \"produce malignant fruit\nin the heart?\"\n\nSec. XX. Or is the deity in this respect no wiser than Hesiod, who exhorts\nand advises, \"not to beget children on our return from a sad funeral,\nbut after a banquet with the gods,\"[860] as though not vice or virtue\nonly, but sorrow or joy and all other propensities, came from\ngeneration, to which the poet bids us come gay and agreeable and\nsprightly. But it is not Hesiod's function, or the work of human wisdom,\nbut it belongs to the deity, to discern and accurately distinguish\nsimilarities and differences of character, before they become obvious by\nresulting in crime through the influence of the passions. For the young\nof bears and wolves and apes manifest from their birth the nature innate\nin them in all its naked simplicity; whereas mankind, under the\ninfluence of customs and opinions and laws, frequently conceal their bad\nqualities and imitate what is good, so as altogether to obliterate and\nescape from the innate taint of vice, or to be undetected for a long\ntime, throwing the veil of craft round their real nature, so that we are\nscarce conscious of their villainy till we feel the blow or smart of\nsome unjust action, so that we are in fact only aware that there is such\na thing as injustice when men act unjustly, or as vice when men act\nviciously, or as cowardice when men run away, just as if one were to\nsuppose that scorpions had a sting only when they stung us, or that\nvipers were venomous only when they bit us, which would be a very silly\nidea. For every bad man is not bad only when he breaks out into crime,\nbut he has the seeds of vice in his nature, and is only vicious in act\nwhen he has opportunity and means, as opportunity makes the thief\nsteal,[861] and the tyrant violate the laws. But the deity is not\nignorant of the nature and disposition of every man, inasmuch as by his\nvery nature he can read the soul better than the body, and does not wait\nto punish violence in the act, or shamelessness in the tongue, or\nlasciviousness in the members. For he does not retaliate upon the\nwrong-doer as having been ill-treated by him, nor is he angry with the\nrobber as having been plundered by him, nor does he hate the adulterer\nas having himself suffered from his licentiousness, but it is to cure\nhim that he often punishes the adulterous or avaricious or unjust man in\nembryo, before he has had time to work out all his villainy, as we try\nto stop epileptic fits before they come on.\n\nSec. XXI. Just now we were dissatisfied that the wicked were punished late\nand tardily, whereas at present we find fault with the deity for\ncorrecting the character and disposition of same before they commit\ncrime, from our ignoring that the future deed may be worse and more\ndreadful than the past, and the hidden intention than the overt act; for\nwe are not able fully to understand the reasons why it is better to\nleave some alone in their ill deeds, and to arrest others in the\nintention; just as no doubt medicine is not appropriate in the case of\nsome patients, which would be beneficial to others not ill, but yet\nperhaps in a more dangerous condition still. And so the gods do not\nvisit all the offences of parents on their children, but if a good man\nis the son of a bad one, as the son of a sickly parent is sometimes of a\ngood constitution, he is exempt from the punishment of his race, as not\nbeing a participator in its viciousness. But if a young man imitates his\nvicious race it is only right that he should inherit the punishment of\ntheir ill deeds, as he would their debts. For Antigonus was not punished\nfor Demetrius, nor, of the old heroes,[862] Phyleus for Augeas, or\nNestor for Neleus, for though their sires were bad they were good, but\nthose whose nature liked and approved the vices of their ancestors,\nthese justice punished, taking vengeance on their similarity in\nviciousness. For as the warts and moles and freckles of parents often\nskip a generation, and reappear in the grandsons and granddaughters, and\nas a Greek woman, that had a black baby and so was accused of adultery,\nfound out that she was the great granddaughter of an Ethiopian,[863] and\nas the son of Pytho the Nisibian who recently died, and who was said to\ntrace his descent to the Sparti,[864] had the birthmark on his body of\nthe print of a spear the token of his race, which though long dormant\nhad come up again as out of the deep, so frequently earlier generations\nconceal and suppress the mental idiosyncrasies and passions of their\nrace, which afterwards nature causes to break out in other members of\nthe family, and so displays the family bent either to vice or virtue.\"\n\nSec. XXII. When I had said thus much I was silent, but Olympicus smiled and\nsaid, \"We do not praise you, lest we should seem to forget your promised\nstory, as though what you had advanced was adequate proof enough, but we\nwill give our opinion when we have heard it.\" Then I began as follows.\n\"Thespesius of Soli, an intimate friend of that Protogenes[865] who\nlived in this city with us for some time, had been very profligate\nduring the early part of his life, and had quickly run through his\nproperty, and for some time owing to his straits had given himself up to\nbad practices, when repenting of his old ways, and following the pursuit\nof riches, he resembled those profligate husbands that pay no attention\nto their wives while they live with them, but get rid of them, and then,\nafter they have married other men, do all they can wickedly to seduce\nthem. Abstaining then from nothing dishonourable that could bring either\nenjoyment or gain, in no long time he got together no great amount of\nproperty, but a very great reputation for villainy. But what most\ndamaged his character was the answer he received from the oracle of\nAmphilochus.[866] For he sent it seems a messenger to consult the god\nwhether he would live the rest of his life better, and the answer was he\nwould do better after his death. And indeed this happened in a sense not\nlong after. For he fell headlong down from a great height, and though he\nhad received no wound nor even a blow, the fall did for him, but three\ndays after (just as he was about to be buried) he recovered. He soon\npicked up his strength again, and went home, and so changed his manner\nof life that people would hardly credit it. For the Cilicians say that\nthey know nobody who was in those days more fairdealing in business, or\nmore devout to the deity, or more disagreeable to his enemies, or more\nfaithful to his friends; insomuch that all who had any dealings with him\ndesired to hear the reason of this change, not thinking that so great a\nreformation of character could have proceeded from chance, and their\nidea was correct, as his narrative to Protogenes and others of his great\nfriends showed. For he told them that, when his soul left the body, the\nchange he first underwent was as if he were a pilot thrown violently\ninto the sea out of a ship. Then raising himself up a little, he thought\nhe recovered the power of breathing again altogether, and looked round\nhim in every direction, as if one eye of the soul was open. But he saw\nnone of the things he had ever seen before, but stars enormous in size\nand at immense distance from one another, sending forth a wonderful and\nintense brightness of colour, so that the soul was borne along and moved\nabout everywhere quickly and easily, like a ship is fair weather. But\nomitting most of the sights he saw, he said that the souls of the dead\nmounted into the air, which yielded to them and formed fiery bubbles,\nand then, when each bubble quietly broke, they assumed human forms,\nlight in weight but with different kinds of motion, for some leapt about\nwith wonderful agility and darted straight upwards, while others like\nspindles flitted round all together in a circle, some in an upward\ndirection, some in a downward, with mixed and confused motion, hardly\nstopping at all, or only after a very long time. As to most of these he\nwas ignorant who they were, but he saw two or three that he knew, and\ntried to approach them and talk with them, but they would not listen to\nhim, and did not seem to be in their right minds, but out of their\nsenses and distraught, avoiding every sight and touch, and at first\nturned round and round alone, but afterwards meeting many other souls\nwhirling round and in the same condition as themselves, they moved about\npromiscuously with no particular object in view, and uttered\ninarticulate sounds, like yells, mixed with wailing and terror. Other\nsouls in the upper part of the air seemed joyful, and frequently\napproached one another in a friendly way, and avoided those troubled\nsouls, and seemed to mark their displeasure by keeping themselves to\nthemselves, and their joy and delight by extension and expansion. At\nlast he said he saw the soul of a relation, that he thought he knew but\nwas not quite sure, as he died when he was a boy, which came up to him\nand said to him, \"Welcome, Thespesius.\" And he wondering, and saying\nthat his name was not Thespesius but Aridaeus, the soul replied, \"That\nwas your old name, but henceforth it will be Thespesius. For assuredly\nyou are not dead, but by the will of the gods are come here with your\nintellect, for the rest of your soul you have left in the body like an\nanchor; and as a proof of what I say both now and hereafter notice that\nthe souls of the dead have no shadow and do not move their eyelids.\"\nThespesius, on hearing these words, pulled himself somewhat more\ntogether again, and began to use his reason, and looking more closely he\nnoticed that an indistinct and shadow-like line was suspended over him,\nwhile the others shone all round and were transparent, but were not all\nalike; for some were like the full-moon at its brightest, throwing out\none smooth even and continuous colour, others had spots or light marks\nhere and there, while others were quite variegated and strange to the\nsight, with black spots like snakes, while others again had dim\nscratches.\n\nThen the kinsman of Thespesius (for there is nothing to prevent our\ncalling the souls by the name of the persons), pointed out everything,\nand told him that Adrastea, the daughter of Necessity and Zeus, was\nplaced in the highest position to punish all crimes, and no criminal was\neither so great or so small as to be able to escape her either by fraud\nor violence. But, as there were three kinds of punishment, each had its\nown officer and administering functionary. \"For speedy Vengeance\nundertakes the punishment of those that are to be corrected at once in\nthe body and through their bodies, and she mildly passes by many\noffences that only need expiation; but if the cure of vice demands\nfurther pains, then the deity hands over such criminals after death to\nJustice, and those whom Justice rejects as altogether incurable, Erinnys\n(the third and fiercest of Adrastea's officers), pursues as they are\nfleeing and wandering about in various directions, and with pitiless\nseverity utterly undoes them all, and thrusts them down to a place not\nto be seen or spoken about. And, of all these punishments, that which is\nadministered in this life by Vengeance is most like those in use among\nthe barbarians. For as among the Persians they pluck off and scourge the\ngarments and tiaras of those that are to be punished, while the\noffenders weep and beg them to cease, so most punishments by fine or\nbodily chastisement have no sharp touch, nor do they reach vice itself,\nbut are only for show and sentiment. And whoever goes from this world to\nthat incorrigible and impure, Justice takes him aside, naked as he is in\nsoul, and unable to veil or hide or conceal his villainy, but descried\nall round and in all points by everybody, and shows him first to his\ngood parents, if such they were, to let them see what a wretch he is and\nhow unworthy of his ancestors; but if they were wicked too, seeing them\npunished and himself being seen by them, he is chastised for a long time\ntill he is purged of each of his bad propensities by sufferings and\npains, which as much exceed in magnitude and intensity all sufferings in\nthe flesh, as what is real is more vivid than a dream. But the scars and\nmarks of the stripes for each bad propensity are more visible in some\nthan in others. Observe also, he continued, the different and various\ncolours of the souls. That dark dirty-brown colour is the pigment of\nilliberality and covetousness, and the blood-red the sign of cruelty and\nsavageness, and where the blue is there sensuality and love of pleasure\nare not easily eradicated, and that violet and livid colour marks malice\nand envy, like the dark liquid ejected by the cuttle fish. For as during\nlife vice produces these colours by the soul being acted upon by\npassions and reacting upon the body, so here it is the end of\npurification and correction when they are toned down, and the soul\nbecomes altogether bright and one colour. But as long as these colours\nremain, there are relapses of the passions accompanied by palpitation\nand throbbing of the heart, in some faint and soon suppressed, in others\nmore violent and lasting. And some of these souls by being again and\nagain corrected recover their proper disposition and condition, while\nothers again by their violent ignorance and excessive love of\npleasure[867] are carried into the bodies of animals; for one by\nweakness of reasoning power, and slowness of contemplation, is impelled\nby the practical element in him to generation, while another, lacking an\ninstrument to satisfy his licentiousness, desires to gratify his\npassions immediately, and to get that gratification through the medium\nof the body; for here there is no real fruition, but only an imperfect\nshadow and dream of incomplete pleasure.\"\n\nAfter he had said this, Thespesius' kinsman hurried him at great speed\nthrough immense space, as it seemed to him, though he travelled as\neasily and straight as if he were carried on the wings of the sun's\nrays. At last he got to an extensive and bottomless abyss, where his\nstrength left him, as he found was the case with the other souls there:\nfor keeping together and making swoops, like birds, they flitted all\nround the abyss, but did not venture to pass over it. To internal view\nit resembled the caverns of Bacchus, being beautiful throughout[868]\nwith trees and green foliage and flowers of all kinds, and it breathed a\nsoft and gentle air, laden with scents marvellously pleasant, and\nproducing the effect that wine does on those who are topers; for the\nsouls were elevated by its fragrance, and gay and blithe with one\nanother: and the whole spot was full of mirth and laughter, and such\nsongs as emanate from gaiety and enjoyment. And Thespesius' kinsman told\nhim that this was the way Dionysus went up to heaven by, and by which he\nafterwards took up Semele, and it was called the place of Oblivion. But\nhe would not let Thespesius stay there, much as he wished, but forcibly\ndragged him away, instructing and telling him that the intellect was\nmelted and moistened by pleasure, and that the irrational and corporeal\nelement being watered and made flesh stirs up the memory of the body,\nfrom which comes a yearning and strong desire for generation, so called\nfrom being an inclination to the earth,[869] when the soul is weighed\ndown with moisture.\n\nNext Thespesius travelled as far in another direction, and seemed to see\na great crater into which several rivers emptied themselves, one whiter\nthan the foam of the sea or snow, another like the purple of the\nrainbow, and others of various hues whose brightness was apparent at\nsome distance, but when he got nearer the air became thinner and the\ncolours grew dim, and the crater lost all its gay colours but white. And\nhe saw three genii sitting together in a triangular position, mixing the\nrivers together in certain proportions. Then the guide of Thespesius'\nsoul told him, that Orpheus got as far as here, when he came in quest of\nthe soul of his wife,[870] and from not exactly remembering what he had\nseen spread a false report among mankind, that the oracle at Delphi was\ncommon to Apollo and Night, though Apollo had no communion with Night:\nbut this, pursued the guide, is an oracle common to Night and the Moon,\nthat utters forth its oracular knowledge in no particular part of the\nworld, nor has it any particular seat, but wanders about everywhere in\nmen's dreams and visions. Hence, as you see, dreams receive and\ndisseminate a mixture[871] of simple truth with deceit and error. But\nthe oracle of Apollo you do not know, nor can you see it, for the\nearthiness of the soul does not suffer it to soar upwards, but keeps it\ndown in dependence on the body. And taking him nearer his guide tried to\nshow him the light from the tripod, which, as he said, shone as far as\nParnassus through the bosom of Themis, but though he desired to see it\nhe could not for its brightness, but as he passed by he heard the shrill\nvoice of a woman speaking in verse several things, among others, he\nthought, telling the time of his death. That, said the genius, was the\nvoice of the Sibyl, who sang about the future as she was being borne\nabout in the Orb of the moon. Though desirous then to hear more, he was\nconveyed into another direction by the violent motion of the moon, as if\nhe had been in the eddies of a whirlpool, so that he heard very little\nmore, only a prophecy about Mt. Vesuvius and that Dicaearchia[872] would\nbe destroyed by fire, and a short piece about the Emperor then\nreigning,[873] that \"though he was good he would lose his empire through\nsickness.\"\n\nAfter this Thespesius and his guide turned to see those that were\nundergoing punishment. And at first they saw only distressing and\npitiable sights, but after that, Thespesius, little expecting it, found\nhimself among his friends and acquaintances and kinsfolk who were being\npunished, and undergoing dreadful sufferings and hideous and bitter\ntortures, and who wept and wailed to him. And at last he descried his\nfather coming up out of a certain gulf covered with marks and scars,\nstretching out his hands, and not allowed to keep silence, but compelled\nby those that presided over his torture to confess that he had been an\naccursed wretch and poisoned some strangers that had gold, and during\nhis lifetime had escaped the detection of everybody; but had been found\nout here, and his guilt brought home to him, for which he had already\nsuffered much, and was being dragged on to suffer more. So great was his\nconsternation and fear that he did not dare to intercede or beg for his\nfather's release, but wishing to turn and flee he could no longer see\nhis gentle and kind guide, but he was thrust forward by some persons\nhorrible to look at, as if some dire necessity compelled him to go\nthrough with the business, and saw that the shades of those that had\nbeen notorious criminals and punished in their life-time were not so\nseverely tortured here or like the others, but had an incomplete[874]\nthough toilsome punishment for their irrational passions.[875] Whereas\nthose who under the mask and show of virtue had lived all their lives in\nundetected vice were forced by their torturers with labour and pain to\nturn their souls inside out, unnaturally wriggling and writhing about,\nlike the sea-scolopendras who, when they have swallowed the hook, turn\nthemselves inside out; but some of them their torturers flayed and\ncrimped so as to show their various inward vices which were only skinned\nover, which were deep in their soul the principal part of man. And he\nsaid he saw other souls, like snakes two or three or even more twined\ntogether, devouring one another in malignity and malevolence for what\nthey had suffered or done in life. He said also that there were several\nlakes running parallel, one of boiling gold, another most cold of lead,\nanother hard of iron, and several demons were standing by, like smiths,\nwho lowered down and drew up by turns with instruments the souls of\nthose whose criminality lay in insatiable cupidity. For when they were\nred-hot and transparent through their bath in the lake of gold, the\ndemons thrust them into the lake of lead and dipped them in that; and\nwhen they got congealed in it and hard as hail, they dipped them into\nthe lake of iron, and there they became wonderfully black, and broken\nand crushed by the hardness of the iron, and changed their appearance,\nand after that they were dipped again in the lake of gold, after\nsuffering, he said, dreadful agony in all these changes of torment. But\nhe said those souls suffered most piteously of all that, when they\nseemed to have escaped justice, were arrested again, and these were\nthose whose crimes had been visited on their children or descendants.\nFor whenever one of these latter happened to come up, he fell into a\nrage and cried out, and showed the marks of what he had suffered, and\nupbraided and pursued the soul of the parent, that wished to fly and\nhide himself but could not. For quickly did the ministers of torture\npursue them, and hurry them back again to Justice,[876] wailing all the\nwhile on account of their fore-knowledge of what their punishment would\nbe. And to some of them he said many of their posterity clung at once,\nand just like bees or bats stuck to them, and squeaked and gibbered[877]\nin their rage at the memory of what they had suffered owing to them.\nLast of all he saw the souls of those that were to come into the world a\nsecond time, forcibly moulded and transformed into various kinds of\nanimals by artificers appointed for the very purpose with instruments\nand blows, who broke off all the limbs of some, and only wrenched off\nsome of others, and polished others down or annihilated them altogether,\nto fit them for other habits and modes of life. Among them he saw the\nsoul of Nero tortured in other ways, and pierced with red-hot nails. And\nthe artificers having taken it in hand and converted it into the\nsemblance of a Pindaric viper, which gets its way to life by gnawing\nthrough its mother's womb, a great light, he said, suddenly shone, and a\nvoice came out of the light, ordering them to change it into something\nmilder, so they devised of it the animal that croaks about lakes and\nmarshes, for he had been punished sufficiently for his crimes, and now\ndeserved some favour at the hands of the gods, for he had freed Greece,\nthe noblest nation of his subjects and the best-beloved of the\ngods.[878] So much did Thespesius behold, but as he intended to return a\nhorrible dread came upon him. For a woman, marvellous in appearance and\nsize, took hold of him and said to him, \"Come here that you may the\nbetter remember everything you have seen.\" And she was about to strike\nhim with a red-hot iron pin, such as the encaustic painters use,[879]\nwhen another woman prevented her; and he was suddenly sucked up, as\nthrough[880] a pipe, by a strong and violent wind, and lit upon his own\nbody, and woke up and found that he was close to his tomb.\n\n    [806] In the temple at Delphi, the scene of the\n    discussion, as we see later on, Sec.Sec. vii. xii.\n\n    [807] Reading [Greek: edokei] with Reiske.\n\n    [808] Euripides, \"Orestes,\" 420. Cf. \"Ion,\" 1615.\n\n    [809] Thucydides, iii. 38.\n\n    [810] See the circumstances in Pausanias, iv. 17 and 22.\n\n    [811] Compare Petronius, \"Satyricon,\" 44: \"Dii pedes\n    lanatos habent.\" Compare also \"Tibullus,\" i. 9. 4: \"Sera\n    tamen tacitis Poena venit pedibus.\"\n\n    [812] Reading [Greek: maliota] (for [Greek: molis]) with\n    Wyttenbach.\n\n    [813] An allusion to the proverb [Greek: Opse Theou\n    aleousi myloi, aleousi de lepta]. See Erasmus, \"Adagia,\"\n    p. 1864.\n\n    [814] Cf. Plato, \"Republic,\" 472 A.\n\n    [815] See Note, \"On Abundance of Friends,\" Sec. ii.\n\n    [816] Reading [Greek: ei gar].\n\n    [817] Or _a world_.\n\n    [818] See above, Sec. ii.\n\n    [819] Quoted also in \"On restraining Anger,\" Sec. ii.\n\n    [820] It seems necessary to read either [Greek:\n    porizein] with Mez, or [Greek: horizein] with\n    Wyttenbach.\n\n    [821] Compare Aristophanes, \"Vespae,\" 438.\n\n    [822] See Pausanias, viii. 27.\n\n    [823] Pindar.\n\n    [824] Homer, \"Iliad,\" xv. 641, 642.\n\n    [825] See Thucydides, i. 127.\n\n    [826] See Pausanias, v. 17; viii. 24; ix. 41; x. 29.\n\n    [827] Hesiod, \"Works and Days,\" 266.\n\n    [828] Ibid. 265. Compare Pausanias, ii. 9; Ovid, A. A.\n    i. 655, 656.\n\n    [829] \"Significat martyres Christianos, in tunica\n    molesta fumantes.\"--_Reiske._\n\n    [830] Like the sword of Damocles. See Horace, \"Odes,\"\n    iii. 1. 17, 21.\n\n    [831] See also Pausanias, iii. 17.\n\n    [832] Surely [Greek: an anatrepoi] must be read.\n\n    [833] Compare \"On Curiosity,\" Sec. x.\n\n    [834] The reading is very doubtful. I adopt [Greek:\n    hedones men euthus kenen charin, elpidos eremon\n    euriskousi.]\n\n    [835] Euripides, \"Ino.\"\n\n    [836] See Herodotus, vi. 86; Juvenal, xiii, 199-207.\n\n    [837] The company are in the temple at Delphi, be it\n    remembered.\n\n    [838] Called Iadmon in Herodotus, ii. 134, where this\n    story is also told.\n\n    [839] Wyttenbach suggests Daulis.\n\n    [840] To Xerxes.\n\n    [841] The allusion is to the well-known story of\n    Odysseus and the Cyclops Polyphemus, who is supposed to\n    have dwelt in the island of Sicily, where Agathocles was\n    tyrant.\n\n    [842] See Pausanias, viii. 14.\n\n    [843] Two were to be sent for 1,000 continuous years. So\n    the Oracle.\n\n    [844] See Pausanias ix. 30; Herodotus, v. 6.\n\n    [845] See Pausanias, vii. 27; Athenaeus, 372 A.\n\n    [846] A former king of Thebes. See Pausanias, ix. 5.\n\n    [847] Called Daiphantes, Pausanias, x. 1.\n\n    [848] Reading [Greek: apistois] with Xylander.\n\n    [849] The famous plague. See Thucydides, ii. 47-54.\n\n    [850] The allusion is to the circumstances mentioned in\n    Sec. xii.\n\n    [851] \"Videtur idem cum _sorita_ esse.\"--_Reiske._\n\n    [852] Compare our author, \"De EI a pud Delphos,\" Sec.\n    xviii. See also Seneca, \"Epist.,\" lviii. p. 483; and\n    Plato, \"Cratylus,\" 402 A.\n\n    [853] Sons of Dionysius.\n\n    [854] Sons of Cassander.\n\n    [855] \"Iliad\" vi. 146-149.\n\n    [856] Compare Plato, \"Phaedrus,\" 276 B. These gardens of\n    Adonis were what we might call flowerpot gardens. See\n    Erasmus, \"Adagia.\"\n\n    [857] [Greek: euthys] seems the best reading, [Greek:\n    aei] is flat.\n\n    [858] Apollo.\n\n    [859] See Sec. xii.\n\n    [860] Hesiod, \"Works and Days,\" 735, 736.\n\n    [861] Compare the French Proverb, \"L'occasion fait le\n    larron.\" And Juvenal's \"Nemo repente fuit turpissimus.\"\n\n    [862] So Reiske very ingeniously.\n\n    [863] A rather far-fetched pedigree.\n\n    [864] See Pansanias, viii. 11; ix. 5, 10. See also Ovid,\n    \"Metamorphoses,\" Book iii. 100-130.\n\n    [865] Compare \"On Love,\" Sec. ii.\n\n    [866] At Mallus, in Cilicia. See Pausanias, i. 34.\n\n    [867] Reading [Greek: philedonias ischys] with Reiske.\n\n    [868] Reading [Greek: diapepoikilmenon on] with\n    Wyttenbach.\n\n    [869] A paronomasia on [Greek: genesis] as if [Greek:\n    epi gen neusis]. We cannot English it.\n\n    [870] Eurydice.\n\n    [871] \"[Greek: mignymenon], Turn, et Bong.,\" _Reiske._\n    Surely the right reading.\n\n    [872] Latin Puteoli.\n\n    [873] Vespasian. See Suetonius, \"Vespasian,\" ch. 24, as\n    to the particulars of his death.\n\n    [874] The reading is very doubtful. I have followed\n    Wyttenbach in reading [Greek: tribomenen triben atele].\n\n    [875] Such as that of the Danaides. So Wyttenbach.\n\n    [876] Adopting the arrangement of Wyttenbach.\n\n    [877] Compare Homer, \"Odyssey,\" xxiv. 5-10.\n\n    [878] See Pausanias, vii. 17, for a sneaking kindness\n    for Nero.\n\n    [879] See Athenaeus, 687 B.\n\n    [880] Reading [Greek: dia] with Reiske.\n\n\n\n\nAGAINST BORROWING MONEY.\n\n\nSec. I. Plato in his Laws[881] does not permit neighbours to use one\nanother's water, unless they have first dug for themselves as far as the\nclay, and reached ground that is unsuitable for a well. For clay, having\na rich and compact nature, absorbs the water it receives, and does not\nlet it pass through. But he allows people that cannot make a well of\ntheir own to use their neighbour's water, for the law ought to relieve\nnecessity. Ought there not also to be a law about money, that people\nshould not borrow of others, nor go to other people's sources of income,\nuntil they have first examined their own resources at home, and\ncollected, as by drops, what is necessary for their use? But nowadays\nfrom luxury and effeminacy and lavish expenditure people do not use\ntheir own resources, though they have them, but borrow from others at\ngreat interest without necessity. And what proves this very clearly is\nthe fact that people do not lend money to the needy, but only to those\nwho, wanting an immediate supply, bring a witness and adequate security\nfor their credit, so that they can be in no actual necessity of\nborrowing.[882]\n\nSec. II. Why pay court to the banker or trader? Borrow from your own table.\nYou have cups, silver dishes, pots and pans. Use them in your need.\nBeautiful Aulis or Tenedos will furnish you with earthenware instead,\npurer than silver, for they will not smell strongly and unpleasantly of\ninterest, a kind of rust that daily soils your sumptuousness, nor will\nthey remind you of the calends and the new moon, which, though the most\nholy of days, the money-lenders make ill-omened and hateful. For those\nwho instead of selling them put their goods out at pawn cannot be saved\neven by Zeus the Protector of Property: they are ashamed to sell, they\nare not ashamed to pay interest on their goods when out at pawn. And yet\nthe famous Pericles made the ornament of Athene, which weighed forty\ntalents of fine gold, removable at will, for \"so,\" he said, \"we can use\nthe gold in war, and at some other time restore as costly a one.\" So\nshould we too in our necessities, as in a siege, not receive a garrison\nimposed on us by a hostile money-lender, nor allow our goods to go into\nslavery; but stripping our table, our bed, our carriages, and our diet,\nof superfluities, we should keep ourselves free, intending to restore\nall those things again, if we have good luck.\n\nSec. III. So the Roman matrons offered their gold and ornaments as\nfirst-fruits to Pythian Apollo, out of which a golden cup was made and\nsent to Delphi;[883] and the Carthaginian matrons had their heads shorn,\nand with the hair cut off made cords for the machines and engines to be\nused in defence of their country.[884] But we being ashamed of\nindependence enslave ourselves to covenants and conditions, when we\nought to restrict and confine ourselves to what is useful, and dock or\nsell useless superfluities, to build a temple of liberty for ourselves,\nour wives, and children. The famous Artemis at Ephesus gives asylum and\nsecurity from their creditors to debtors, when they take refuge in her\ntemple; but the asylum and sanctuary of frugality is everywhere open to\nthe sober-minded, affording them joyful and honourable and ample space\nfor much ease. For as the Pythian Priestess told the Athenians at the\ntime of the Median war that the god had given them wooden walls,[885]\nand they left the region and city, their goods and houses, and took\nrefuge in their ships for liberty, so the god gives us a wooden table,\nand earthenware plate, and coarse garments, if we wish to live free.\nCare not for fine horses or chariots with handsome harness, adorned with\ngold[886] and silver, which swift interest will catch up and outrun, but\nmounted on any chance donkey or nag flee from the hostile and tyrannical\nmoney-lender, not demanding like the Mede land and water,[887] but\ninterfering with your liberty, and lowering your status. If you pay him\nnot, he duns you; if you offer the money, he won't have it; if you are\nselling anything, he cheapens the price; if you don't want to sell, he\nforces you; if you sue him, he comes to terms with you; if you swear, he\nhectors; if you go to his house, he shuts the door in your face; whereas\nif you stay at home, he billets himself on you, and is ever rapping at\nyour door.\n\nSec. IV. How did Solon benefit the Athenians by ordaining that debtors\nshould no longer have to pay in person? For they are slaves to all\nmoney-lenders,[888] and not to them only, what would there be so\nmonstrous in that? but to their slaves, who are insolent and savage\nbarbarians, such as Plato represents the fiery torturers and\nexecutioners in Hades who preside over the punishment of the impious.\nFor they make the forum a hell for wretched debtors, and like vultures\ndevour and rend them limb from limb, \"piercing into their bowels,\"[889]\nand stand over others and prevent their tasting their own grapes or\ncrops, as if they were so many Tantaluses. And as Darius sent Datis and\nArtaphernes to Athens with manacles and chains in their hands for their\ncaptives, so they bring into Greece boxes full of bonds and agreements,\nlike fetters, and visit the towns and scour the country round, sowing\nnot like Triptolemus harmless corn, but planting the toilsome and\nprolific and never-ending roots of debts, which grow and spread all\nround, and ruin and choke cities. They say that hares at once give birth\nand suckle and conceive again, but the debts of these knaves and\nbarbarians give birth before they conceive; for at the very moment of\ngiving they ask back, and take up what they laid down, and lend what\nthey take for lending.\n\nSec. V. It is a saying among the Messenians, that \"there is a Pylos before\nPylos, and another Pylos too.\" So it may be said with respect to these\nmoney-lenders, \"there is interest before interest, and other interest\ntoo.\" Then of course they laugh at those natural philosophers who say\nthat nothing can come of nothing, for they get interest on what neither\nis nor was; and they think it disgraceful to farm out the taxes, though\nthe law allows it, while they themselves against the law exact tribute\nfor what they lend, or rather, if one is to say the truth, defraud as\nthey lend, for he who receives less than he signs his name for is\ndefrauded. The Persians indeed think lying a secondary crime, but debt a\nprincipal one, for lying frequently follows upon debt, but money-lenders\ntell more lies, for they make fraudulent entries in their account-books,\nwriting down that they have given so-and-so so much, when they have\nreally given less. And the only excuse for their lying is covetousness,\nnot necessity, not utter poverty, but insatiable greediness, the outcome\nof which is without enjoyment and useless to themselves, and fatal to\ntheir victims. For neither do they farm the fields which they rob their\ndebtors of, nor do they inhabit their houses when they have thrust them\nout, nor use their tables or apparel, but first one is ruined, and then\na second is hunted down, for whom the first one serves as a decoy. For\nthe bane spreads and grows like a fire, to the destruction and ruin of\nall who fall into their clutches, for it consumes one after another; and\nthe money-lender, who fans and feeds this flame to ensnare many, gets no\nmore advantage from it but that some time after he can take his\naccount-book and read how many he has sold up, how many turned out of\nhouse and home, and track the sources of his wealth, which is ever\ngrowing into a larger pile.\n\nSec. VI. And do not think I say this as an enemy proclaiming war against\nthe money-lenders,\n\n  \"For never did they lift my cows or horses,\"[890]\n\nbut merely to prove to those who too readily borrow money what disgrace\nand servitude it brings with it, and what extreme folly and weakness it\nis. Have you anything? do not borrow, for you are not in a necessitous\ncondition. Have you nothing? do not borrow, for you will never be able\nto pay back. Let us consider either case separately. Cato said to a\ncertain old man who was a wicked fellow, \"My good sir, why do you add\nthe shame that comes from wickedness to old age, that has so many\ntroubles of its own?\" So too do you, since poverty has so many troubles\nof its own, not add the terrible distress that comes from borrowing\nmoney and from debt; and do not take away from poverty its only\nadvantage over wealth, its freedom from corroding care. For the proverb\nthat says, \"I cannot carry a goat, put an ox on my shoulder,\" has a\nridiculous ring. Unable to bear poverty, are you going to put on your\nback a money-lender, a weight hard to carry even for a rich man? How\nthen, will you say, am I to maintain myself? Do you ask this, having two\nhands, two legs, and a tongue, in short, being a man, to love and be\nloved, to give and receive benefits? Can you not be a schoolmaster or\ntutor, or porter, or sailor, or make coasting voyages? Any of these ways\nof getting a livelihood is less disgraceful and difficult than to always\nhave to hear, \"Pay me that thou owest.\"\n\nSec. VII. The well-known Rutilius went up to Musonius at Rome, and said to\nhim, \"Musonius, Zeus Soter, whom you imitate and emulate, does not\nborrow money.\" And Musonius smilingly answered, \"Neither does he lend.\"\nFor you must know Rutilius, himself a lender, was bantering Musonius for\nbeing a borrower. What Stoic inflatedness was all this! What need was\nthere to bring in Zeus Soter? For all nature teaches the same lesson.\nSwallows do not borrow money, nor do ants, although nature has given\nthem no hands, or reason, or profession. But men have intellect in\nexcess, and so ingenious are they that they keep near them horses, and\ndogs, and partridges, and jackdaws. Why then do you despair, who are as\nimpressible as a jackdaw, have as much voice as a partridge, and are as\nnoble as a dog, of getting some person to befriend you, by looking after\nhim, winning his affections, guarding him, fighting his battles? Do you\nnot see how many opportunities there are both on land and sea? As Crates\nsays,\n\n  \"Miccylus and his wife, to ward off famine\n   In these bad times, I saw both carding wool.\"\n\nAnd King Antigonus asked Cleanthes, when he saw him at Athens after a\nlong interval, \"Do you still grind, Cleanthes?\" And he replied, \"I do, O\nking, but for my living, yet so as not to desert philosophy.\" Such was\nthe admirable spirit of the man who, coming from the mill and\nkneading-trough, wrote with the hand that had baked and ground about the\ngods, and the moon, and stars, and the sun. But those kinds of labour\nare in our view servile! And so that we may appear free we borrow money,\nand flatter and dance attendance on slaves, and give them dinners and\npresents, and pay taxes as it were to them, not on account of our\npoverty (for no one lends money to a poor man), but from our love of\nlavish expenditure. For if we were content with things necessary for\nsubsistence, the race of money-lenders would be as extinct as Centaurs\nand Gorgons are; it is luxury that has created them as much as\ngoldsmiths, and silversmiths, and perfumers, and dyers in bright\ncolours. For we do not owe money for bread and wine, but for estates,\nand slaves, and mules, and dining-rooms, and tables, and for our lavish\npublic entertainments, in our unprofitable and thankless ambition. And\nhe that is once involved in debt remains in it all his time, like a\nhorse bitted and bridled that takes one rider after another, and there\nis no escape to green pastures and meadows, but they wander about like\nthose demons who were driven out of heaven by the gods who are thus\ndescribed by Empedocles:--\n\n  \"Into the sea the force of heaven thrusts them,\n   The sea rejects them back upon the land;\n   To the sun's rays th' unresting earth remits them;\n   The sun anon whirls them to heaven again.\"\n\nSo one after another usurer or trader gets hold of the poor wretch,\nhailing either from Corinth, or Patrae, or Athens, till he gets set on to\nby them all, and torn to bits, and cut into mince-meat as it were for\nhis interest. For as a person who is fallen into the mire must either\nget up out of it or remain in it, and if he turns about in it, and\nwallows in it, and bedabbles his body all over in it, he contracts only\nthe greater defilement, so by borrowing from one person to pay another\nand changing their money-lenders they contract and incur fresh interest,\nand get into greater liabilities, and closely resemble sufferers from\ncholera, whose case does not admit of cure because they evacuate\neverything they are ordered to take, and so ever add to the disease. So\nthese will not get cleansed from the disease of debt, but at regular\ntimes in the year pay their interest with pain and agony, and then\nimmediately another creditor presents his little account, so again their\nheads swim and ache, when they ought to have got rid of their debts\naltogether, and regained their freedom.\n\nSec. VIII. I now turn my attention to those who are rich and luxurious, and\nuse language like the following, \"Am I then to go without slaves and\nhearth and home?\" As if any dropsical person, whose body was greatly\nswollen and who was very weak, should say to his doctor, \"Am I then to\nbecome lean and empty?\" And why not, to get well? And do you too go\nwithout a slave, not to be a slave yourself; and without chattels, not\nto be another man's chattel. Listen to a story about two vultures; one\nwas vomiting and saying it would bring its inside up, and the other who\nwas by said, \"What harm if you do? For it won't be your inside you bring\nup, but that dead body we devoured lately.\" And so any debtor does not\nsell his own estate, or his own house, but his creditor's, for he has\nmade him by law master of them. Nay, but by Zeus, says one, my father\nleft me this field. Yes, and your father also left you liberty and a\nstatus in the community, which you ought to value more than you do. And\nyour father begot you with hand and foot, but should either of them\nmortify, you pay the surgeon to cut it off. Thus Calypso clad and\n\"dressed\" Odysseus \"in raiment smelling sweet,\"[891] like the body of an\nimmortal, as a gift and token of her affection for him; but when his\nvessel was upset and he himself immersed, and owing to this wet and\nheavy raiment could hardly keep himself on the top of the waves, he\nthrew it off and stripped himself, and covered his naked breast with\nIno's veil,[892] and \"swam for it gazing on the distant shore,\"[893] and\nso saved his life, and lacked neither food nor raiment. What then? have\nnot poor debtors storms, when the money-lender stands over them and\nsays, _Pay_?\n\n  \"Thus spoke Poseidon, and the clouds did gather,\n   And lashed the sea to fury, and at once\n   Eurus and Notus and the stormy Zephyr\n   Blew all together.\"[894]\n\nThus interest rolls on interest as wave upon wave, and he that is\ninvolved in debt struggles against the load that bears him down, but\ncannot swim away and escape, but sinks to the bottom, and carries with\nhim to ruin his friends that have gone security for him. But Crates the\nTheban, though he had neither duns nor debts, and was only disgusted at\nthe distracting cares of housekeeping, gave up a property worth eight\ntalents, and assumed the philosopher's threadbare cloak and wallet, and\ntook refuge in philosophy and poverty. And Anaxagoras left his\nsheep-farm. But why need I mention these? since the lyric poet\nPhiloxenus, obtaining by lot in a Sicilian colony much substance and a\nhouse abounding in every kind of comfort, but finding that luxury and\npleasure and absence of refinement was the fashion there, said, \"By the\ngods these comforts shall not undo me, I will give them up,\" and he left\nhis lot to others, and sailed home again. But debtors have to put up\nwith being dunned, subjected to tribute, suffering slavery, passing\ndebased coin, and like Phineus, feeding certain winged Harpies, who\ncarry off and lay violent hands on their food, not at the proper season,\nfor they get possession of their debtors' corn before it is sown, and\nthey traffic for oil before the olives are ripe; and the money-lender\nsays, \"I have wine at such and such a price,\" and takes a bond for it,\nwhen the grapes are yet on the vine waiting for Arcturus to ripen them.\n\n    [881] Page 844, A. B. C.\n\n    [882] Reading with Wyttenbach [Greek: didousi] and\n    [Greek: echousi].\n\n    [883] See Livy, v. 25.\n\n    [884] See Appian, lv. 26.\n\n    [885] See Herodotus, vii. 141-143; viii. 51.\n\n    [886] Reading with Reiske [Greek: katachrusa].\n\n    [887] The technical term for submission to an enemy. See\n    Pausanias, iii. 12; x. 20. Herodotus, v. 17, 18; vii.\n    133.\n\n    [888] Reading with Reiske [Greek: daneistais]. Perhaps\n    [Greek: aphanistais] originally came after [Greek:\n    agriois], and got somehow displaced.\n\n    [889] See Homer, \"Odyssey,\" xi. 578, 579, and context.\n\n    [890] Homer, \"Iliad,\" i. 154.\n\n    [891] \"Odyssey,\" v. 264.\n\n    [892] \"Odyssey,\" v. 333-375.\n\n    [893] \"Odyssey,\" v. 439.\n\n    [894] \"Odyssey,\" v. 291-295.\n\n\n\n\nWHETHER \"LIVE UNKNOWN\" BE A WISE\nPRECEPT.\n\n\nSec. I. He who uttered this precept[895] certainly did not wish to live\nunknown, for he uttered it to let all the world know he was a superior\nthinker, and to get to himself unjust glory by exhorting others to shun\nglory.\n\n  \"I hate the wise man for himself not wise.\"[896]\n\nThey say that Philoxenus the son of Eryxis and Gnatho the Sicilian,\nbeing exceedingly greedy where good fare was going, would blow their\nnose in the dishes, to disgust all others at the table, that they alone\nmight take their fill of the choicest dishes. So those that are\ninsatiable pursuers of glory calumniate glory to others who are their\nrivals, that they may get it without antagonists. In this they resemble\nrowers, who face the stern of the vessel but propel it ahead, that by\nthe recoil from the stroke of their oars they may reach port, so those\nthat give vent to precepts like this pursue glory with their face turned\nin the opposite direction. For otherwise what need was there to utter a\nprecept like this, or to write and hand it down to posterity, if he\nwished to live unknown to his own generation, who did not wish to live\nunknown to posterity?\n\nSec. II. Look at the matter in the following way.[897] Has not that \"live\nunknown\" a villainous ring, as though one had broken open graves? Is\nyour life so disgraceful that we must all be ignorant of it? For my part\nI should say, Even if your life be bad do not live unknown, but be\nknown, reform, repent; if you have virtue, be not utterly useless in\nlife; if you are vicious, do not continue unreformed. Point out then and\ndefine to whom you recommend this precept. If to an ignorant or wicked\nor senseless person, you resemble one who should say to a person in a\nfever or delirium, \"Be unknown. Don't let the doctor know your\ncondition. Go and throw yourself into some dark place, that you and your\nailments may be unknown.\" So you say to a vicious man, \"Go off with your\nvice, and hide your deadly and irremediable disease from your friends,\nfearful to show your superstitious fears, palpitations as it were, to\nthose who could admonish you and cure you.\" Our remote ancestors paid\npublic attention to the sick, and if any one had either had or cured a\nsimilar complaint, he communicated his experience to the patient, and so\nthey say medical art became great by these contributions from\nexperience. We ought also in the same way to expose to everyone diseased\nlives and the passions of the soul, and to handle them, and to examine\nthe condition of each,[898] and say, Are you a passionate man? Be on\nyour guard against anger. Are you of a jealous turn? Look to it. Are you\nin love? I myself was in love once, but I had to repent. But nowadays\npeople deny and conceal and cloak their vices, and so fix them deeper in\nthemselves.\n\nSec. III. Moreover if you advise men of worth to live unknown and in\nobscurity, you say to Epaminondas, Do not be a general; and to Lycurgus,\nDo not be a legislator; and to Thrasybulus, Do not be a tyrannicide; and\nto Pythagoras, Do not teach; and to Socrates, Do not discourse; and\nfirst and foremost you bid yourself, Epicurus, to refrain from writing\nletters to your friends in Asia, and from enrolling Egyptian strangers\namong your disciples, and from dancing attendance on the youths of\nLampsacus, and sending books to all quarters to display your wisdom to\nall men and all women, and leaving directions in your will about your\nfuneral. What is the meaning of those common tables of yours? what that\ncrowd of friends and handsome youths? Why those many thousand lines\nwritten and composed so laboriously on Metrodorus, and Aristobulus, and\nChaeredemus, that they may not be unknown even in death, if[899] you\nordain for virtue oblivion, for art inactivity, for philosophy silence,\nand for success that it should be speedily forgotten?\n\nSec. IV. But if you exclude all knowledge about life, like putting the\nlights out at a supper party, that you may go from pleasure to pleasure\nundetected,[900] then \"live unknown.\" Certainly if I am going to pass my\nlife with the harlot Hedeia, or my days with Leontium, and spurn at\nvirtue, and put my _summum bonum_ in sensual gratifications, these are\nends that require darkness and night, on these oblivion and ignorance\nare rightly cast. But if any one in nature sings the praises of the\ndeity and justice and providence, and in morals upholds the law and\nsociety and the constitution, and in the constitution what is honourable\nand not expedient, why should he \"live unknown\"? Is it that he should\ninstruct nobody, inspire in nobody an emulation for virtue, and be to\nnobody a pattern in good?[901] Had Themistocles been unknown at Athens,\nGreece would not have repelled Xerxes; had Camillus been unknown at\nRome, Rome would not have remained a state; had Plato been unknown to\nDion, Sicily would not have won its freedom. And as light, I take it,\nmakes us not only visible but useful to one another, so knowledge gives\nnot only glory but impetus to virtue. Epaminondas in obscurity up to his\nfortieth year was no use to the Thebans, but when his merits became\nknown and he was put into power, he saved his state from ruin, and\nliberated Greece from slavery, making his abilities efficacious in\nemergency through his reputation like the bright shining of a light. For\nSophocles' words,\n\n  \"Brightly shines brass in use, but when unused\n   It groweth dull in time, and mars the house,\"[902]\n\nare also appropriate to the character of a man, which gets rusty and\nsenile by not mixing in affairs but living in obscurity. For mute\ninglorious ease, and a sedentary life devoted to leisure, not only\ninjure the body but also the soul: and as hidden waters overshadowed and\nstagnant get foul because they have no outlet, so the innate powers of\nunruffled lives, that neither imbibe nor pass on anything, even if they\nhad any useful element in them once, seem to be effete and wasted.\n\nSec. V. Have you never noticed how when night comes on a tired languor\nseizes the body, and inactive torpor overpowers the soul, and reason\nshrinks within itself like a fire going out, and feeling quite worn out\nis gently agitated by disordered fancies, only just indicating that the\nman is alive? But when the sun rises and scares away deceitful dreams,\nand brings on as it were the everyday world[903] and with its light\nrouses and stimulates the thoughts and actions of everybody, then, as\nDemocritus says, \"men form new ideas for the day,\" and betake themselves\nto their various pursuits with mutual impetuosity, as if drawn by a\nstrong impulse.\n\nSec. VI. And I think that life itself, and the way we come into the world,\nis so ordained by the deity that we should know one another. For\neveryone comes into this great universe obscure and unknown casually and\nby degrees, but when he mixes with his fellows and grows to maturity he\nshines forth, and becomes well-known instead of obscure, and conspicuous\ninstead of unknown. For knowledge is not the road to being, as some say,\nbut being to knowledge, for being does not create but only exhibits\nthings, as death is not the reducing of existence to non-existence, but\nrather the result of dissolution is obscurity. So people considering the\nSun as Apollo according to hereditary and ancient institutions, call him\nDelius[904] and Pythius; whereas the lord of the world of darkness,\nwhether god or demon, they call Hades[905] (for when we die we go into\nan unseen and invisible place), and the lord of dark night and idle\nsleep. And I think our ancestors called man himself by a word meaning\nlight,[906] because by their relationship to light all have implanted in\nthem a strong and vehement desire to know and to be known. And some\nphilosophers think that the soul itself is light in its essence,\ninferring so on other grounds and because it can least endure ignorance\nabout facts, and hates[907] everything obscure, and is disturbed at\neverything dark, which inspires fear and suspicion in it, whereas light\nis so dear and welcome to it that it thinks nothing otherwise delightful\nbearable without it, as indeed light makes every pleasure pastime and\nenjoyment gay and cheerful, like the application of some sweet and\ngeneral flavour. But the man who thrusts himself into obscurity, and\nwraps himself up in darkness and buries himself alive, is like one who\nis dissatisfied with his birth, and renounces his being.\n\nSec. VII. And yet _Pindar_ tells us[908] that the abode of the blest is a\nglorious existence, where the sun shines bright through the entire night\nin meadows red with roses, an extensive plain full of shady trees ever\nin bloom never in fruit, watered by gentle purling streams, and there\nthe blest ones pass their time away in thinking and talking about the\npast and present in social converse....[909] But the third road is of\nthose who have lived unholy and lawless lives, that thrusts their souls\nto Erebus and the bottomless pit, where sluggish streams of murky night\nbelch forth endless darkness, which receive those that are to be\npunished and conceal them in forgetfulness and oblivion. For vultures do\nnot always prey on the liver of wicked persons lying on the ground,[910]\nfor it is destroyed by fire or has rolled away; nor does the carrying of\nheavy burdens press upon and tire out the bodies of those that undergo\npunishment,\n\n  \"For their strength has no longer flesh and bones,\"[911]\n\nnor have the dead any vestige of body that can receive the infliction of\npunishment that can make impression; but in reality the only punishment\nof those who have lived ill is infamy and obscurity and utter\nannihilation, which hurries them off to the dark river of oblivion,[912]\nand plunges them into the abyss of a fathomless sea, involving them in\nuselessness and idleness, ignorance and obscurity.\n\n    [895] Probably Epicurus, as we infer from the very\n    personal Sec. iii.\n\n    [896] Euripides, Fragm. 930.\n\n    [897] Reading with Wyttenbach, [Greek: Alla touto men\n    taute].\n\n    [898] Reading [Greek: ekastou] for [Greek: ekaston].\n    Reiske proposed [Greek: ekaston].\n\n    [899] Reading [Greek: ei] (for [Greek: hina]) with\n    Xylander and Wyttenbach.\n\n    [900] Reading with Wyttenbach.\n\n    [901] Adopting the suggestion of Wyttenbach, \"Forte\n    [Greek: kalou], at Amiot.\"\n\n    [902] Frag. 742.\n\n    [903] \"Dormiens quisque in peculiarem abest mumdum,\n    expergefactus in communem redit.\"--_Xylander._ Compare\n    Herrick's Poem, \"_Dreames._\"\n\n    [904] Bright.\n\n    [905] Invisible.\n\n    [906] [Greek: phos].\n\n    [907] Reading with Wyttenbach [Greek: echthairei].\n\n    [908] Reading [Greek: phesin] for [Greek: physin].\n\n    [909] Hiatus hic valde deflendus.\n\n    [910] As was fabled about Tityus, \"Odyssey,\" xi.\n    576-579.\n\n    [911] \"Odyssey,\" xi. 219.\n\n    [912] So Reiske, [Greek: potamin tes lethes].\n\n\n\n\nON EXILE.\n\n\nSec. I. They say those discourses, like friends, are best and surest that\ncome to our refuge and aid in adversity, and are useful. For many who\ncome forward do more harm than good in the remarks they make to the\nunfortunate, as people unable to swim trying to rescue the drowning get\nentangled with them and sink to the bottom together. Now the discourse\nthat ought to come from friends and people disposed to be helpful should\nbe consolation, and not mere assent with a man's sad feelings. For we do\nnot in adverse circumstances need people to weep and wail with us like\nchoruses in a tragedy, but people to speak plainly to us and instruct\nus, that grief and dejection of mind are in all cases useless and idle\nand senseless; and that where the circumstances themselves, when\nexamined by the light of reason, enable a man to say to himself that his\ntrouble is greater in fancy than in reality, it is quite ridiculous not\nto inquire of the body what it has suffered, nor of the mind if it is\nany the worse for what has happened, but to employ external sympathizers\nto teach us what our grief is.\n\nSec. II. Therefore let us examine alone by ourselves the weight of our\nmisfortunes, as if they were burdens. For the body is weighed down by\nthe burden of what presses on it, but the soul often adds to the real\nload a burden of its own. A stone is naturally hard, and ice naturally\ncold, but they do not receive these properties and impressions from\nwithout; whereas with regard to exile and loss of reputation or honours,\nas also with regard to their opposites, as crowns and office and\nposition, it is not their own intrinsic nature but our opinion of them\nthat is the gauge of their real joy or sorrow, so that each person makes\nthem for himself light or heavy, easy to bear or hard to bear. When\nPolynices was asked\n\n  \"What is't to be an exile? Is it grievous?\"\n\nhe replied to the question,\n\n  \"Most grievous, and in deed worse than in word.\"[913]\n\nCompare with this the language of Alcman, as the poet has represented\nhim in the following lines. \"Sardis, my father's ancient home, had I had\nthe fortune to be reared in thee, I should have been dressed in gold as\na priest of Cybele,[914] and beaten the fine drums; but as it is my name\nis Alcman, and I am a citizen of Sparta, and I have learned to write\nGreek poetry, which makes me greater than the tyrants Dascyles or\nGyges.\" Thus the very same thing one man's opinion makes good, like\ncurrent coin, and another's bad and injurious.\n\nSec. III. But let it be granted that exile is, as many say and sing, a\ngrievous thing. So some food is bitter, and sharp, and biting to the\ntaste, yet by an admixture with it of sweet and agreeable food we take\naway its unpleasantness. There are also some colours unpleasant to look\nat, that quite confuse and dazzle us by their intensity and excessive\nforce. If then we can relieve this by a mixture of shadow, or by\ndiverting the eye to green or some agreeable colour, so too can we deal\nwith misfortunes, mixing up with them the advantages and pleasant things\nwe still enjoy, as wealth, or friends, or leisure, and no deficiency in\nwhat is necessary for our subsistence. For I do not think that there are\nmany natives of Sardis who would not choose your fortune even with\nexile, and be content to live as you do in a strange land, rather than,\nlike snails who have no other home than their shells, enjoy no other\nblessing but staying at home in ease.\n\nSec. IV. As then he in the comedy that was exhorting an unfortunate friend\nto take courage and bear up against fortune, when he asked him \"how,\"\nanswered \"as a philosopher,\" so may we also play the philosopher's part\nand bear up against fortune manfully. How do we do when it rains, or\nwhen the North Wind doth blow? We go to the fire, or the baths, or the\nhouse, or put on another coat: we don't sit down in the rain and cry. So\ntoo can you more than most revive and cheer yourself for the chill of\nadversity, not standing in need of outward aid, but sensibly using your\nactual advantages. The surgeon's cupping-glasses extract the worst\nhumours from the body to relieve and preserve the rest of it, whereas\nthe melancholy and querulous by ever dwelling on their worst\ncircumstances, and thinking only of them, and being engrossed by their\ntroubles, make even useful things useless to them, at the very time when\nthe need is most urgent. For as to those two jars, my friend, that\nHomer[915] says are stored in Heaven, one full of good fortunes, one of\nbad, it is not Zeus that presides as the dispenser of them, giving to\nsome a gentle and even portion, and to others unmixed streams of evils,\nbut ourselves. For the sensible make their life pleasanter and more\nendurable by mitigating their sorrows with the consideration of their\nblessings, while most people, like sieves, let the worst things stick to\nthem while the best pass through.\n\nSec. V. And so, if we fall into any real trouble or evil, we ought to get\ncheerfulness and ease of mind from the consideration of the actual\nblessings that are still left to us, mitigating outward trouble by\nprivate happiness. And as to those things which are not really evil in\ntheir nature, but only so from imagination and empty fancy, we must act\nas we do with children who are afraid of masks: by bringing them near,\nand putting them in their hands, and turning them about, we accustom\nthem never to heed them at all: and so we by bringing reason to bear on\nit may discover the rottenness and emptiness and exaggeration of our\nfancy. As a case in point let us take your present exile from what you\ndeem your country. For in nature no country, or house, or field, or\nsmithy, as Aristo said, or surgery, is peculiarly ours, but all such\nthings exist or rather take their name in connection with the person who\ndwells in them or possesses them. For man, as Plato says, is not an\nearthly and immovable but heavenly plant, the head making the body erect\nas from a root, and turned up to heaven.[916] And so Hercules said well,\n\n  \"Argive or Theban am I, I vaunt not\n   To be of one town only, every tower\n   That does to Greece belong, that is my country.\"\n\nBut better still said Socrates, that he was not an Athenian or Greek,\nbut a citizen of the world (as a man might say he was a Rhodian or\nCorinthian), for he did not confine himself to Sunium, or Taenarum, or\nthe Ceraunian mountains.\n\n  \"See you the boundless reach of sky above,\n   And how it holds the earth in its soft arms?\"\n\nThese are the boundaries of our country, nor is there either exile or\nstranger or foreigner in these, where there is the same fire, water and\nair, the same rulers controllers and presidents, the sun the moon and\nthe morning star, the same laws to all, under one appointment and\nordinance the summer and winter solstices, the equinoxes, Pleias and\nArcturus, the seasons of sowing and planting; where there is one king\nand ruler, God, who has under his jurisdiction the beginning and middle\nand end of everything, and travels round and does everything in a\nregular way in accordance with nature; and in his wake to punish all\ntransgressions of the divine law follows Justice, whom all men naturally\ninvoke in dealing with one another as fellow citizens.\n\nSec. VI. As to your not dwelling at Sardis, that is nothing. Neither do all\nthe Athenians dwell at Colyttus, nor all the Corinthians at Craneum, nor\nall the Lacedaemonians at Pitane. Do you consider all those Athenians\nstrangers and exiles who removed from Melita to Diomea, where they call\nthe month Metageitnion,[917] and keep the festival Metageitnia to\ncommemorate their migration, and gladly and gaily accept and are content\nwith their neighbourhood with other people? Surely you would not. What\npart of the inhabited world or of the whole earth is very far distant\nfrom another part, seeing that mathematicians teach us that the whole\nearth is a mere point compared to heaven? But we, like ants or bees, if\nwe get banished from one ant-hill or hive are in sore distress and feel\nlost, not knowing or having learnt to make and consider all things our\nown, as indeed they are. And yet we laugh at the stupidity of one who\nasserts that the moon shines brighter at Athens than at Corinth, though\nin a sort we are in the same case ourselves, when in a strange land we\nlook on the earth, the sea, the air, the sky, as if we doubted whether\nor not they were different from those we had been accustomed to. For\nnature makes us free and unrestrained, but we bind and confine immure\nand force ourselves into small and scanty space. Then too we laugh at\nthe Persian kings, who, if the story be true, drink only of the water of\nthe Choaspes, thus making the rest of the world waterless as far as they\nare concerned, but when we migrate to other places, we desire the water\nof the Cephisus, or we yearn for the Eurotas, or Taygetus, or Parnassus,\nand so make the whole world for ourselves houseless and homeless.\n\nSec. VII. Some Egyptians, who migrated to Ethiopia because of the anger and\nwrath of their king, to those who begged them to return to their wives\nand children very immodestly exposed their persons, saying that they\nwould never be in want of wives or children while so provided. It is far\nmore becoming and less low to say that whoever has the good fortune to\nbe provided with the few necessaries of life is nowhere a stranger,\nnowhere without home and hearth, only he must have besides these\nprudence and sense, as an anchor and helm, that he may be able to moor\nhimself in any harbour. For a person indeed who has lost his wealth it\nis not easy quickly to get another fortune, but every city is at once\nhis country to the man who knows how to make it such, and has the roots\nby which he can live and thrive and get acclimatized in every place, as\nwas the case with Themistocles and Demetrius of Phalerum. The latter\nafter his banishment became a great friend of Ptolemy at Alexandria, and\nnot only passed his days in abundance, but also sent gifts to the\nAthenians. And Themistocles, who was publicly entertained at the king's\nexpense, is stated to have said to his wife and children, \"We should\nhave been ruined, if we had not been ruined.\" And so Diogenes the Cynic\nto the person who said to him, \"The people of Sinope have condemned you\nto banishment from Pontus,\" replied, \"And I have condemned them to stay\nin Pontus, 'by the high cliffs of the inhospitable sea.'\"[918] And\nStratonicus asked his host at Seriphus, for what offence exile was the\nappointed punishment, and being told that they punished rogues by exile,\nsaid, \"Why then are not you a rogue, to escape from this hole of a\nplace?\" For the comic poet says they get their crop of figs down there\nwith slings, and that the island is very barely supplied with the\nnecessaries of life.\n\nSec. VIII. For if you look at the real facts and shun idle fancy, he that\nhas one city is a stranger and foreigner in all others. For it does not\nseem to such a one fair and just to leave his own city and dwell in\nanother. \"It has been your lot to be a citizen of Sparta, see that you\nadorn your native city,\" whether it be inglorious, or unhealthy, or\ndisturbed with factions, or has its affairs in disorder. But the person\nwhom fortune has deprived of his own city, she allows to make his home\nin any he fancies. That was an excellent precept of Pythagoras, \"Choose\nthe best kind of life, custom will make it easy.\" So too it is wise and\nprofitable to say here, \"Choose the best and pleasantest city, time will\nmake it your country, and a country that will not always distract you\nand trouble you and give you various orders such as, 'Contribute so much\nmoney, Go on an embassy to Rome, Entertain the prefect, Perform public\nduties.'\" If a person in his senses and not altogether silly were to\nthink of these things, he would prefer to live in exile in some island,\nlike Gryarus or Cinarus,\n\n  \"Savage, and fruitless, ill repaying tillage,\"\n\nand that not in dejection and wailing, or using the language of those\nwomen in Simonides,\n\n  \"I am shut in by the dark roaring sea\n   That foams all round,\"\n\nbut he will rather be of the mind of Philip, who when he was thrown in\nwrestling, and turned round, and noticed the mark his body made in the\ndust, said, \"O Hercules, what a little part of the earth I have by\nnature, though I desire all the world!\"\n\nSec. IX. I think also you have seen Naxos, or at any rate Hyria, which is\nclose here. But the former was the home of Ephialtes and Otus, and the\nlatter was the dwelling-place of Orion. And Alcmaeon, when fleeing from\nthe Furies, so the poets tell us, dwelt in a place recently formed by\nthe silting of the Achelous;[919] but I think he chose that little spot\nto dwell in ease and quiet, merely to avoid political disturbances and\nfactions, and those furies informers. And the Emperor Tiberius lived the\nlast seven years of his life in the island of Capreae, and the sacred\ngoverning power of the world enclosed in his breast during all that time\nnever changed its abode. But the incessant and constant cares of empire,\ncoming from all sides, made not that island repose of his pure and\ncomplete. But he who can disembark on a small island, and get rid of\ngreat troubles, is a miserable man, if he cannot often say and sing to\nhimself those lines of Pindar, \"To love the slender cypress, and to\nleave the Cretan pastures lying near Ida. I have but little land, where\nI grow strong, and have nothing to do with sorrow or faction,\"[920] or\nthe ordinances of princes, or public duties in political emergencies, or\nstate functions hard to get off.\n\nSec. X. For if that seems a good saying of Callimachus, \"Do not measure\nwisdom by a Persian rope,\" much less should we measure happiness by\nropes and parasangs, and if we inhabit an island containing 200 furlongs\nonly, and not (like Sicily) four days' sail round, ought we to wail and\nlament as if we were very unfortunate? For how does plenty of room bring\nabout an easy life? Have you not heard Tantalus saying in the play,[921]\n\n  \"I sow a field that takes twelve days to travel round,\n   The Berecyntian region,\"\n\nbut shortly after he says,\n\n  \"My fortunes, that were once as high as heaven,\n   Now to the ground are fallen, and do say to me,\n  'Learn not to make too much of earthly things.'\"\n\nAnd Nausithous leaving the spacious Hyperia because of the proximity of\nthe Cyclopes, and migrating to an island \"far from all enterprising\nmen,\"[922] and living an unsocial life,\n\n  \"Apart from men beside the stormy sea,\"[923]\n\nyet contrived to make the life of his citizens very pleasant. And the\nCyclades were first inhabited by the sons of Minos, and afterwards by\nthe sons of Codrus and Neleus, though foolish people now think they are\npunished if they are exiled to them. And yet what island used as a place\nof exile is not of larger extent than Scillus, where Xenophon after his\nmilitary service saw a comfortable old age?[924] And the Academy, a\nsmall place bought for only 3,000 drachmae,[925] was the domicile of\nPlato and Xenocrates and Polemo, who taught and lived there all their\nlives, except one day every year, when Xenocrates went to Athens to\ngrace the festival of Dionysus, so they said, and to see the new plays\nexhibited. And Theocritus of Chios twitted Aristotle with loving to live\nat the courts of Philip and Alexander, and preferring to dwell at the\nmouth of the Borborus to dwelling in the Academy. For there is a river\nnear Pella that the Macedonians call Borborus. As to islands Homer seems\nto sing their praise, and recommend them to us as if on purpose, as\n\n  \"She came to Lemnos, town of sacred Thoas;\"[926]\n\nand,\n\n  \"What Lesbos has, the seat of the immortals;\"[927]\n\nand,\n\n  \"He captured lofty Scyros, citadel\n   Of Enyeus;\"[928]\n\nand,\n\n  \"And those who from Dulichium came, and from\n   The sacred islands called th' Echinades,\n   That lie across the sea opposite Elis;\"[929]\n\nand of the illustrious men that dwelt in islands he mentions AEolus the\nfavourite of the gods, and Odysseus most wise, and Ajax most brave, and\nAlcinous most kind to strangers.\n\nSec. XI. When Zeno learned that the only ship he had left was with all its\nfreight lost at sea, he said, \"Fortune, you deal kindly with me,\nconfining me to my threadbare cloak and the life of a philosopher.\" And\na man not altogether silly, or madly in love with crowds, might, I\nthink, not blame fortune for confining him in an island, but might even\npraise her for relieving him from weariness and anxiety, and wanderings\nin foreign countries, and perils by sea, and the uproar of the forum,\nand for giving him truly a secure, quiet, undistracted and private life,\nputting him as it were inside a circle in which everything necessary for\nhim was contained. For what island has not a house, a promenade, a bath,\nand fish and hares for those who love fishing and field-sports? And the\ngreatest blessing, quiet, which others frequently pant for, you can\nfreely enjoy.[930] And whereas in the world,[930] when men are playing\nat dice or otherwise enjoying the privacy of their homes, informers and\nbusybodies hunt them up and pursue them from their houses and gardens in\nthe suburbs, and drag them by force to the forum and court, in an island\nno one comes to bother one or dun one or to borrow money, or to beg one\nto be surety for him or canvass for him: only one's best friends and\nintimates come to visit one out of good will and affection, and the rest\nof one's life is a sort of holy retirement to whoever wishes or has\nlearnt to live the life of leisure. But he who thinks those happy who\nare always scouring the country, and pass most of their lives in inns\nand ferryboats, is like a person who thinks the planets happier than\nfixed stars. And yet every planet keeps its order, rolling in one\nsphere, as in an island. For, as Heraclitus says, the sun will never\ndeviate from its bounds, for if it did, the Furies, who are the\nministers of Justice, would find it out.\n\nSec. XII. Let us use such and similar language, my friend, and harp upon\nit, to those who are banished to an island, and are debarred all access\nwith others\n\n  \"By the sea waves, which many keep apart.\"[931]\n\nBut you who are not tied down to one spot, but only forbidden to live in\none, have by that prohibition liberty to go to all others. Moreover to\nthe considerations, I am not in office, or a member of the senate, or an\numpire in the games, you may oppose these, I do not belong to any\nfaction, I have no large sums to spend, I have not to dance attendance\nat the doors of the prefect, it is no odds to me who has got by lot the\nprovince, whether he is hot-tempered or an objectionable person. But\njust as Archilochus overlooked the fruitful fields and vineyards of\nThasos, and abused that island as rocky and uneven, and said of it,\n\n  \"It stands like donkey's chine crowned with wild forest,\"\n\nso we, fixing our eyes only on one aspect of exile, its inglorious\nstate, overlook its freedom from cares, its leisure, its liberty. And\nyet people thought the kings of Persia happy, because they passed their\nwinter in Babylon, their summer in Media, and the pleasant season of\nspring at Susa. So can the exile be present at the Eleusinian mysteries,\nat the festival of Dionysus at Athens, at the Nemean games at Argos, at\nthe Pythian games at Delphi, and can pass on and be a spectator of the\nIsthmian and Corinthian games, if he is fond of sight-seeing; and if\nnot, he has leisure, can walk about, read, sleep without being\ndisturbed, and can say like Diogenes, \"Aristotle has to dine when Philip\nthinks fit, Diogenes can dine at any time he himself chooses,\" having no\nbusiness, or magistrate, or prefect, to put him out of his general\nhabits of living.\n\nSec. XIII. And so it is that you will find few of the wisest and most\nintelligent men buried in their own countries, but most (even without\nany compulsion) have themselves weighed anchor, and transferred their\ncourse, and removed, some to Athens, some from it. For who ever bestowed\nsuch encomium upon his country as Euripides did in the following lines?\n\n  \"First we are not a race brought in from other parts,\n   But are indigenous, when all other cities\n   Are, draughts-men like, transferred from place to place,\n   And are imported from elsewhere. And, lady,\n   If it is not beside the mark to boast,\n   We have above us a well-tempered sky,\n   A climate not too hot, nor yet too cold.\n   And all the finest things in Greece or Asia\n   We do procure as an attraction here.\"[932]\n\nAnd yet the author of these lines went to Macedonia, and lived all the\nlatter part of his life at the court of Archelaus. And of course you\nhave heard the following epitaph;\n\n  \"Here lies Euphorion's son, Athenian AEschylus,\n   To whom death came in corn-producing Gela.\"\n\nFor he, like Simonides before him, went to Sicily. And many have changed\nthe commencing words of Herodotus, \"This is the setting forth of the\nhistory of Herodotus of Halicarnassus\" into \"Herodotus of Thurii.\" For\nhe migrated to Thurii, and participated in that colony. As to the divine\nand sacred spirit of the Muses, the poet of the Trojan war, Homer, did\nnot many cities claim him as theirs, because he did not cry up one city\nonly? And Hospitable Zeus has many great honours.\n\nSec. XIV. And if anyone shall say that these pursued glory and honour, go\nto the philosophers, and their schools and lectures, consider those at\nthe Lyceum, the Academy, the Porch, the Palladium, the Odeum. If you\nadmire and prefer the Peripatetic school, Aristotle was a native of\nStagira, Theophrastus of Eresus, Strato of Lampsacus, Glyco of Troas,\nAristo of Ceos, Critolaus of Phaselis. If you prefer the Stoic school,\nZeno was a native of Cittium, Cleanthes of Assus, Chrysippus of Soli,\nDiogenes of Babylon, Antipater of Tarsus; and the Athenian Archidemus\nmigrated to the country of the Parthians, and left at Babylon a\nsuccession of the Stoic school. Who exiled these men? Nobody; it was\ntheir own pursuit of quiet, of which no one who is famous or powerful\ncan get much at home, that made them teach us this by their practice,\nwhile they taught us other things by their precepts. And even nowadays\nmost excellent and renowned persons live in strange lands, not in\nconsequence of being expelled or banished, but at their own option, to\navoid business and distracting cares, and the want of leisure which\ntheir own country would bring them. For it seems to me that the Muses\naided our old writers to complete their finest and most esteemed works\nby calling in exile as a fellow-worker. Thus Thucydides the Athenian\nwrote the history of the war between the Peloponnesians and the\nAthenians in Thrace near the forest of Scapte, Xenophon wrote at Scillus\nin Elis, Philistus in Epirus, Timaeus of Tauromenium at Athens, Androtion\nof Athens at Megara, and Bacchylides the poet[933] in Peloponnesus. All\nthese and many more, though exiled from their country, did not despair\nor give themselves up to dejection, but so happy was their disposition\nthat they considered exile a resource given them by fortune, whereby\nthey obtained universal fame after their deaths, whereas no memorial is\nleft of those who were factious against them and banished them.\n\nSec. XV. He therefore is ridiculous who thinks that any ignominy attaches\nitself to exile. What say you? Was Diogenes without glory, whom\nAlexander saw basking in the sun, and stopped to ask if he wanted\nanything, and when he answered, \"Nothing, but that you would get a\nlittle out of my light,\" Alexander, astonished at his spirit, said to\nhis friends, \"If I were not Alexander, I would be Diogenes.\" Was\nCamillus without glory when banished from Rome, of which he is now\naccounted the second founder? And indeed Themistocles did not lose by\nhis exile the glory he had obtained among the Greeks, but he added to it\namong the barbarians, and there is no one so without honour, so ignoble,\nwho would prefer to be Leobates who indicted him rather than\nThemistocles the exile, or Clodius who banished Cicero rather than the\nbanished one, or Aristophon the accuser rather than Timotheus who got\ndriven by him from his country.\n\nSec. XVI. But since a good many are moved by the lines of Euripides, who\nseems to bring a strong indictment against exile, let us see what it is\nhe says in each question and answer about it.\n\n  _Jocasta._ What is't to be an exile? Is it grievous?\n\n  _Polynices._ Most grievous, and in deed worse than in word.\n\n  _Jocasta._ What is its aspect? What is hard for exiles?\n\n  _Polynices._ This is the greatest, that they have no freedom.\n\n  _Jocasta._ This is a slave's life not to speak one's thoughts!\n\n  _Polynices._ Then one must put up with one's masters' follies.[934]\n\nBut this is not a right or true estimate.[935] For first of all, not to\nsay out all one thinks is not the action of a slave but of a sensible\nman, in times and matters that require reticence and silence, as\nEuripides himself has said elsewhere better,\n\n  \"Be silent where 'tis meet, speak where 'tis safe.\"\n\nThen as for the follies of one's masters, one has to put up with them\njust as much in one's own country as in exile. Indeed, more frequently\nhave the former reason to fear that the powerful in cities will act\nunjustly to them either through calumny or violence. But his greatest\nand absurdest error is that he takes away from exiles freedom of speech.\nIt is wonderful, if Theodorus had no freedom of speech, that when\nLysimachus the king said to him, \"Did not your country cast you out\nbecause of your character?\" replied, \"Yes, as Semele cast out Dionysus,\nwhen unable to bear him any longer.\" And when he showed him Telesphorus\nin a cage,[936] with his eyes scooped out, and his nose and ears and\ntongue cut off, and said to him, \"This is how I treat those that act ill\nto me.\" * *[937] And had not Diogenes freedom of speech, who, when he\nvisited Philip's camp just as he was on the eve of offering battle to\nthe Greeks, and was taken before the king as a spy, told him he had come\nto see his insatiable folly, who was going shortly to stake his\ndominions and life on a mere die. And did not Hannibal the Carthaginian\nuse freedom of speech to Antiochus, though he was an exile, and\nAntiochus a king? For as a favourable occasion presented itself he urged\nthe king to attack the enemy, and when after sacrifice he reported that\nthe entrails forbade it, Hannibal chided him and said, \"You listen\nrather to what flesh tells you than to the instruction of a man of\nexperience.\" Nor does exile deprive geometricians or grammarians of\ntheir freedom of speech, or prevent their discussing what they know and\nhave learnt. Why should it then good and worthy men? It is meanness\neverywhere that stops a man's speech, ties and gags his tongue, and\nforces him to be silent. But what are the next lines of Euripides?\n\n  _Jocasta._ Hopes feed the hearts of exiles, so they say.\n\n  _Polynices._ Hopes have a flattering smile, but still delay.[938]\n\nBut this is an accusation against folly rather than exile. For it is not\nthose who have learnt and know how to enjoy the present, but those who\never hang on the future, and hope after what they have not, that float\nas it were on hope as on a raft, though they never get beyond the\nwalls.[939]\n\n  _Jocasta._ But did your father's friends do nothing for you?\n\n  _Polynices._ Be fortunate! Friends are no use in trouble.\n\n  _Jocasta._ Did not your good birth better your condition?\n\n  _Polynices._ 'Tis bad to want. Birth brought no bread to me.[940]\n\nBut it was ungrateful in Polynices thus to rail against exile as\ndiscrediting his good birth and robbing him of friends, for it was on\naccount of his good birth that he was deemed worthy of a royal bride\nthough an exile, and he came to fight supported by a band of friends and\nallies, a great force, as he himself admits a little later,\n\n      \"Many of the princes of the Danai\n  And from Mycenae are with me, bestowing\n  A sad but necessary kindness on me.\"[941]\n\n\nNor was there any more justice in the lament of his\nmother:--\n\n  \"I never lit for you the nuptial torch\n   In marriage customary, nor did Ismenus\n   Furnish you with the usual solemn bath.\"[942]\n\nShe ought to have been pleased and content to hear that her son dwelt in\nsuch a palace _as that at Argos_, and in lamenting that the nuptial\ntorch was not lit, and that he had not had the usual bath in the river\nIsmenus, as though there was no water or fire at Argos for wedded\npeople, she lays on exile the evils really caused by pride and\nstupidity.\n\nSec. XVII. But exile, you will say, is a matter of reproach. It may be\namong fools, who also jeer at the beggar, the bald man, the dwarf, aye,\nand even the stranger and resident alien. But those who are not carried\naway in that manner admire good men, whether they are poor, or strangers\nor exiles. Do we not see that all men adore the temple of Theseus as\nwell as the Parthenon and Eleusinium? And yet Theseus was an exile from\nAthens, though it was owing to him that Athens is now inhabited, and he\nwas banished from a city which he did not merely dwell in, but had\nhimself built. And what glory is left to Eleusis, if we are ashamed of\nEumolpus, who migrated from Thrace, and taught the Greeks (as he still\nteaches them) the mysteries? And who was the father of Codrus that\nreigned at Athens? Was it not Melanthus, an exile from Messene? And do\nyou not praise the answer of Antisthenes to the person who told him that\nhis mother was a Phrygian, \"So also is the mother of the gods.\" If you\nare twitted then with exile, why do you not answer, \"The father of the\nglorious victor Hercules was an exile.\" And Cadmus, the grandfather of\nDionysus, when he was sent from home to find Europa, and never came\nback, \"though a Phoenician born he changed his country,\"[943] and\nmigrated to Thebes, and became[944] the grandfather of \"Dionysus, who\nrejoices in the cry of Evoe, the exciter of women, who delights in\nfrantic honours.\" As for what AEschylus obscurely hints at in the line,\n\n  \"Apollo the chaste god, exile from heaven,\"\n\nlet me keep a religious silence, as Herodotus[945] says. And Empedocles\ncommences his system of philosophy as follows, \"It is an ordinance of\nnecessity, an ancient decree of the gods, when anyone stains his hands\nwith crime and murder, the long-lived demons get hold of him, so that he\nwanders away from the gods for thirty thousand years. Such is my\ncondition now, that of an exile and wanderer from the gods.\" In these\nwords he not only speaks of himself, but points out that all of us men\nsimilarly are strangers and foreigners and exiles in this world. For he\nsays, \"O men, it is not blood or a compounded spirit that made the being\nor beginning of the soul, but it is your earth-born and mortal body that\nis made up of these.\" He calls speciously by the mildest of names the\nbirth of the soul that has come from elsewhere a living in a strange\ncountry. But the truth is the soul is an exile and wanderer, being\ndriven about by the divine decrees and laws, and then, as in some\nsea-girt island, gets joined to the body like an oyster to its shell, as\nPlato says, because it cannot call to mind or remember from what honour\nand greatness of happiness it migrated, not from Sardis to Athens, nor\nfrom Corinth to Lemnos or Scyros, but exchanging heaven and the moon for\nearth and life upon earth, if it shifts from place to place for ever so\nshort a time it is put out and feels strange, and fades away like a\ndying plant. But although one soil is more suitable to a plant than\nanother, and it thrives and grows better on such a soil, yet no\nsituation can rob a man of his happiness or virtue or sense. It was in\nprison that Anaxagoras wrote his squaring of the circle, and that\nSocrates, even after drinking the hemlock, talked philosophically, and\nbegged his friends to be philosophers, and was esteemed happy by them.\nOn the other hand, Phaethon and Tantalus, though they got up to heaven,\nfell into the greatest misfortunes through their folly, as the poets\ntell us.\n\n    [913] Euripides, \"Phoenissae,\" 388, 389.\n\n    [914] Reading [Greek: bakelas]. _Gallus_ in Latin.\n\n    [915] \"Iliad,\" xxiv. 527-533.\n\n    [916] Plato, \"Timaeus,\" p. 90 A. Compare Ovid,\n    \"Metamorphoses,\" i. 84-86.\n\n    [917] Derived from [Greek: meta, geiton], because then\n    people flitted and changed their neighbours.\n\n    [918] Euripides, \"Iphigenia in Tauris,\" 253.\n\n    [919] See also Pausanias, viii. 24.\n\n    [920] Pindar, Fragm. 126.\n\n    [921] AEschylus, \"Niobe,\" Fragm. 146.\n\n    [922] \"Odyssey,\" vi. 8. I read [Greek: andron] as\n    Wyttenbach.\n\n    [923] \"Odyssey,\" vi. 204.\n\n    [924] See Pausanias, v. 6.\n\n    [925] In our money about L121 17_s._ 6_d._\n\n    [926] \"Iliad,\" xiv. 230.\n\n    [927] \"Iliad,\" xxiv. 544.\n\n    [928] \"Iliad,\" ix. 668.\n\n    [929] \"Iliad,\" ii. 625, 626.\n\n    [930] So Reiske.\n\n    [931] \"Iliad,\" xxi. 59.\n\n    [932] Euripides, Fragm. 950.\n\n    [933] Reiske suggests [Greek: Bakchylides ho Keios]. A\n    very probable suggestion.\n\n    [934] Euripides, \"Phoenissae,\" 388-393.\n\n    [935] Omitting [Greek: prhotos], which probably got in\n    from [Greek: proton] following, and for which Reiske\n    conjectured [Greek: horas hos].\n\n    [936] Such as Cardinal Balue was shut up by Louis XI in\n    for fourteen years.\n\n    [937] The answer of Theodorus is wanting.\n\n    [938] Euripides, \"Phoenissae,\" 396, 397.\n\n    [939] That is, they never get any further.\n\n    [940] Euripides, \"Phoenissae,\" 402-405.\n\n    [941] Euripides, \"Phoenissae,\" 430-432.\n\n    [942] Ibid. 344-346.\n\n    [943] Reading [Greek: chthonos]. \"Sic mutandum censet\n    Valckenarius.\"--_Wyttenbach._\n\n    [944] Through his daughter Semele.\n\n    [945] Herodotus, ii. 171.\n\n\n\n\nON FORTUNE.\n\n\nSec. I. \"Fortune, not wisdom, rules the affairs of mortals.\"[946] And does\nnot justice, and fairness, and sobriety, and decorum rule the affairs of\nmortals? Was it of fortune or owing to fortune that Aristides persevered\nin his poverty, when he might have been lord of much wealth? And that\nScipio after taking Carthage neither saw nor received any of the spoil?\nWas it of fortune or owing to fortune that Philocrates spent on harlots\nand fish the money he had received from Philip? And that Lasthenes and\nEuthycrates lost Olynthus, measuring happiness by their belly and lusts?\nWas it of fortune that Alexander the son of Philip not only himself\nabstained from the captive women, but punished others that outraged\nthem? Was it under the influence of an evil genius and fortune that\nAlexander,[947] the son of Priam, intrigued with the wife of his host\nand ran away with her, and filled two continents with war and evils? For\nif all these things are due to fortune, what hinders our saying that\ncats and goats and apes are under the influence of fortune in respect of\ngreediness, and lust, and ribaldry?\n\nSec. II. And if there are such things as sobriety and justice and\nfortitude, with what reason can we deny the existence of prudence, and\nif prudence exists, how can we deny the existence of wisdom? For\nsobriety is a kind of prudence, as people say, and justice also needs\nthe presence of prudence. Nay more, we call the wisdom and prudence that\nmakes people good in regard to pleasure self-control and sobriety, and\nin dangers and hardships endurance and fortitude, and in dealings\nbetween man and man and in public life equity and justice. And so, if we\nare to ascribe to fortune the acts of wisdom, let us ascribe justice and\nsobriety to fortune also, aye, and let us put down to fortune stealing,\nand picking pockets, and lewdness, and let us bid farewell to argument,\nand throw ourselves entirely on fortune, as if we were, like dust or\nrefuse, borne along and hurried away by a violent wind. For if there be\nno wisdom, it is not likely that there is any deliberation or\ninvestigation of matters, or search for expediency, but Sophocles only\ntalked nonsense when he said,\n\n  \"Whate'er is sought is found, what is neglected\n   Escapes our notice;\"[948]\n\nand again in dividing human affairs,\n\n  \"What can be taught I learn, what can be found out\n   Duly investigate, and of the gods\n   I ask for what is to be got by prayer.\"[949]\n\nFor what can be found out or learnt by men, if everything is due to\nfortune? And what deliberative assembly of a state is not annulled, what\ncouncil of a king is not abrogated, if all things are subject to\nfortune? whom we abuse as blind because we ourselves are blind in our\ndealings with her. Indeed, how can it be otherwise, seeing that we\nrepudiate wisdom, which is like plucking out our eyes, and take a blind\nguide of our lives?\n\nSec. III. Supposing any of us were to assert that seeing is a matter of\nfortune, not of eyesight, nor of the eyes that give light, as Plato\nsays, and that hearing is a matter of fortune, and not the imbibing of a\ncurrent of air through the ear and brain, it would be well for us then\nto be on our guard against the evidence of our senses. But indeed nature\nhas given us sight and hearing and taste and smell, and all other parts\nof the body and their functions, as ministers of wisdom and prudence.\nFor \"it is the mind that sees, and the mind that hears, everything else\nis deaf and blind.\" And just as, if there were no sun, we should have\nperpetual night for all the stars, as Heraclitus says, so man for all\nhis senses, if he had no mind or reason, would be little better than the\nbeasts. But as it is, it is not by fortune or chance that we are\nsuperior to them and masters of them, but Prometheus, that is reason, is\nthe cause of this,\n\n  \"Presenting us with bulls, horses, and asses,\n   To ease us of our toil, and serve instead,\"\n\nas AEschylus says.[950] For as to fortune and natural condition, most of\nthe beasts are better off than we are. For some are armed with horns and\ntusks and stings, and as for the hedgehog, as Empedocles says, it has\nits back all rough with sharp bristles, and some are shod and protected\nby scales and fur and talons and hoofs worn smooth by use, whereas man\nalone, as Plato says, is left by nature naked, unarmed, unshod, and\nuncovered. But by one gift, that of reason and painstaking and\nforethought, nature compensates for all these deficiencies. \"Small\nindeed is the strength of man, but by the versatility of his intellect\nhe can tame the inhabitants of the sea, earth, and air.\"[951] Nothing is\nmore agile and swift than horses, yet they run for man; the dog is a\ncourageous and high-spirited creature, yet it guards man; fish is most\npleasant to the taste, the pig the fattest of all animals, yet both are\nfood and delicacies for man. What is huger or more formidable in\nappearance than the elephant? Yet it is man's plaything, and a spectacle\nat public shows, and learns to dance and kneel. And all these things are\nnot idly introduced, but to the end that they may teach us to what\nheights reason raises man, and what things it sets him above, and how it\nmakes him master of everything.\n\n  \"For we are not good boxers, nor good wrestlers,\n   Nor yet swift runners,\"[952]\n\nfor in all these points we are less fortunate than the beasts. But by\nour experience and memory and wisdom and cunning, as Anaxagoras says, we\nmake use of them, and get their honey and milk, and catch them, and\ndrive and lead them about at our will. And there is nothing of fortune\nin this, it is all the result of wisdom and forethought.\n\nSec. IV. Moreover the labours of carpenters and coppersmiths and\nhouse-builders and statue-makers are affairs of mortals, and we see that\nno success in such trades is got by fortune or chance. For that fortune\nplays a very small part in the life of a wise man, whether coppersmith\nor house-builder, and that the greatest works are wrought by art alone,\nis shown by the poet in the following lines:--\n\n  \"All handicraftsmen go into the street,\n   Ye that with fan-shaped baskets worship Ergane,\n   Zeus' fierce-eyed daughter;\"[953]\n\nfor Ergane[954] and Athene, and not Fortune, do the trades regard as\ntheir patrons. They do indeed say that Nealces,[955] on one occasion\npainting a horse, was quite satisfied with his painting in all other\nrespects, but that some foam on the bridle from the horse's breath did\nnot please him, so that he frequently tried to rub it out; at last in\nhis anger he threw his sponge (just as it was, full of colours) at the\npicture, and this very wonderfully produced exactly the effect he\ndesired. This is the only fortunate accident in art that history\nrecords. Artificers everywhere use rules and weights and measures, that\nnone of their work may be done at random and anyhow. And indeed the arts\nmay be considered as wisdom on a small scale, or rather as emanations\nfrom and fragments of wisdom scattered about among the necessities of\nlife; as the fire of Prometheus is riddled to have been divided and\nscattered about in all quarters of the world. For thus small particles\nand fragments of wisdom, breaking up as it were and getting divided into\npieces, have formed into order.\n\nSec. V. It is strange then that the arts do not require fortune to attain\nto their ends, and yet that the most important and complete of all the\narts, the sum total of man's glory and merit, should be so completely\npowerless. Why, there is a kind of wisdom even in the tightening or\nslackening of chords, which people call music, and in the dressing of\nfood, which we call the art of cooking, and in cleaning clothes, which\nwe call the art of the fuller, and we teach boys how to put on their\nshoes and clothes generally, and to take their meat in the right hand\nand their bread in the left, since none of these things come by fortune,\nbut require attention and care. And are we to suppose that the most\nimportant things which make so much for happiness do not call for\nwisdom, and have nothing to do with reason and forethought? Why, no one\never yet wetted earth with water and then left it, thinking it would\nbecome bricks by fortune and spontaneously, or procured wool and\nleather, and sat down and prayed Fortune that it might become clothes\nand shoes; nor does anyone getting together much gold and silver and a\nquantity of slaves, and living in a spacious hall with many doors, and\nmaking a display of costly couches and tables, believe that these things\nwill constitute his happiness, and give him a painless happy life secure\nfrom changes, unless he be wise also. A certain person asked the general\nIphicrates in a scolding way who he was, as he seemed neither a\nheavy-armed soldier, nor a bowman, nor a targeteer, and he replied, \"I\nam the person who rule and make use of all these.\"\n\nSec. VI. So wisdom is neither gold, nor silver, nor fame, nor wealth, nor\nhealth, nor strength, nor beauty. What is it then? It is what can use\nall these well, and that by means of which each of these things becomes\npleasant and esteemed and useful, and without which they are useless;\nand unprofitable and injurious, and a burden and disgrace to their\npossessor. So Hesiod's Prometheus gives very good advice to Epimetheus,\n\"not to receive gifts from Olympian Zeus but to send them back,\"[956]\nmeaning external things and things of fortune. For as if he urged one\nwho knew nothing of music not to play on the pipe, or one who knew\nnothing of letters not to read, or one who was not used to horses not to\nride, so he advised him not to take office if he were foolish, nor to\ngrow rich if he were illiberal, nor to marry if likely to be ruled by\nhis wife. For success beyond their merit is to foolish persons a cause\nof folly, as Demosthenes said,[957] and good fortune beyond their merit\nis to those who are not sensible a cause of misfortune.[958]\n\n    [946] A line from Chaeremon.\n\n    [947] Better known as Paris.\n\n    [948] \"Oedipus Tyrannus,\" 110, 111. Wyttenbach compares\n    Terence, \"Heauton Timorumenos,\" 675. \"Nil tam\n    difficilest, quin quaerende investigari possiet.\"\n\n    [949] Soph., Frag. 723.\n\n    [950] AEschylus, Fragm. 180. Reading [Greek: antidoula]\n    with Reiske and the MSS.\n\n    [951] Euripides, \"AEolus,\" Fragm. 27.\n\n    [952] Homer, \"Odyssey,\" viii. 246, 247.\n\n    [953] Soph., Frag. 724.\n\n    [954] \"The Worker.\" Generally a title of Athene, as\n    Pausanias, i. 24; iii. 17; v. 14; vi. 26; viii. 32; ix.\n    26. Gataker thinks [Greek: kai ten] should be expunged.\n    Hercher omits [Greek: kai ten 'Athenan] altogether.\n\n    [955] So Hercher after Madvig. See Pliny, \"Hist. Nat.,\"\n    XXXV. 36, 20.\n\n    [956] Hesiod, \"Works and Days,\" 86, 87.\n\n    [957] \"Olynth.,\" i. 23.\n\n    [958] The whole of this essay reminds one of the\n    well-known lines of Juvenal, twice repeated--namely, x.\n    365, 366; and xiv. 315, 316:--\n\n      \"Nullum numen habes, si sit prudentia; nos te,\n       Nos facimus, Fortuna, deam caeloque locamus.\"\n\n\n\nINDEX.\n\n\nAbrotonus, 37.\n\nAbsence, the test of affection, 122.\n\nAcademy, the, 385.\n\nAchilles, 5, 52, 102, 172, 187, 196, 200, 271, 290, 291, 301, 319.\n\nAcropolis, statue of Leaena in the, 221.\n\nAdmetus, 52.\n\nAdonis, 43, 352.\n\nAdultery, the fruit of curiosity, 245.\n  Love of change, 298.\n\nAEschines, 17, 188, 285.\n\nAEschylus, quoted or referred to, 33, 45, 47, 55, 61, 125,\n  126, 130, 176, 203, 205, 242, 271, 273, 385, 388, 393, 396.\n\nAEsculapius, 244, 270.\n\nAEsop, fables of alluded to, 72, 81, 88, 125, 142.\n\nAgamemnon, 292, 300, 301.\n\nAgathoclea, 37.\n\nAgathocles, 278, 324, 325, 347.\n\nAgave, 144.\n\nAgesilaus, 129, 136, 161, 166, 262, 264, 326.\n\nAgis, 294.\n\nAglaonice, her knowledge of eclipses, 83.\n\nAjax, 113, 347.\n\nAlcaeus, 56, 59.\n\nAlcestis, 53.\n\nAlcibiades, 54, 128, 135, 160, 192, 294, 338.\n\nAlcman, 379.\n\nAlexander, the Great, 16, 50, 113, 124, 137, 151, 162, 172, 174,\n  184, 185, 195, 250, 270, 277, 280, 292, 301, 303, 314, 321, 389,\n  390, 394.\n\nAlexinus, 266.\n\nAmmonius, Plutarch's master, 194.\n\nAmoebeus, 102.\n\nAmphictyones, 121, 230.\n\nAnacharsis, 125, 219.\n\nAnacreon, 33.\n\nAnaxagoras, 136, 306, 373, 394, 397.\n\nAnaxarchus, 107, 113, 253, 292.\n\nAnger, how to restrain, 267-288.\n\nAnimals, appeal to, 21-25.\n  Use of, 202.\n\nAnswers, three different kinds of, 234.\n\nAnticyra, 284.\n\nAntigonus, 16, 38, 222, 258, 263, 276, 278, 326, 370.\n\nAntileon, 50.\n\nAntimachus, poet, 234.\n\nAntipater, 77, 124, 182, 237, 260, 297.\n\nAntipatridas, 50.\n\nAntiphanes, 125.\n\nAntiphon, 189.\n\nAntisthenes, 266.\n\nAntony, 176.\n\nAnytus, 54, 141.\n\nApelles, 10, 171, 302.\n\nAphrodite, 34, 43, 44, 49, 76, 78, 80, 219.\n\nApollo, 154, 347, 377.\n\nAraspes, 136.\n\nArcadio, 276.\n\nArcesilaus, 180, 283.\n\nArchelaus, 258, 388.\n\nArchidamus, king, 2, 264.\n\nArchilochus, 215, 247, 387.\n\nArchytas, of Tarentum, 11, 15, 336.\n\nAres, 44, 45, 47, 49.\n\nArgus, 146.\n\nAristaeus (the _Saint Hubert_ of the Middle Ages), 45.\n\nAristides, 120, 136.\n\nAristippus, 6, 32, 93, 127, 128, 240, 285, 297.\n\nAristo, 98, 241.\n\nAristocrates, 322.\n\nAristogiton, 50, 67, 189, 220.\n\nAristomenes, the hero, 52.\n\nAristomenes, tutor of Ptolemy Epiphanes, 195.\n\nAristonica, 37.\n\nAristophanes, 15, 27, 43, 93, 195, 241.\n\nAristotle, 100, 101, 110, 124, 162, 215, 270, 278, 281, 303, 326,\n  386.\n\nArisinoe, sister and wife of Ptolemy Philadelphus, 16.\n\nArtemis, 367.\n\nAsopichus, 52.\n\nAss-driver, story of Athenian, 282.\n\nAthene, ornament of, 366.\n  Athene and the Satyr, 273.\n  Athene Chalcioecus, 228.\n  Called Ergane, 397.\n\nAthenians, oracle given to the, 367.\n\nAttis, 43.\n\nAugustus, 189, 224, 225.\n\nAulis, famous for earthenware, 366.\n\n\nBacchis, 37.\n\nBarbers, a talkative race, 226, 227.\n\nBaxter, Richard, and Plutarch, Preface, viii, note.\n\nBelestiche, 38.\n\nBellerophon, 246, 255.\n\nBessus, story about, 341.\n\nBias, 176, 217, 332.\n\nBion, 10, 67, 132, 172, 258, 354.\n\nBocchoris, 255.\n\nBooks, value of, 12.\n\nBoys, not to be overworked, 13.\n  To be taught to speak the truth, 16.\n  Love of, 17, 31, 33-35, 50, 51, 52, 54, 61, 64, 65, 67.\n\nBrasidas, 120, 126, 331.\n\nBriareus, 146, 150, 299.\n\nBrides, custom of in Boeotia, 70, 71.\n  Custom of at Leptis in Libya, 79.\n\n\nCaeneus, his change of sex, 120.\n\nCaesar, Julius, 210.\n\nCallimachus, 272, 385.\n\nCallisthenes, 270.\n\nCallixenus, 141.\n\nCamma, story about, 63, 64.\n\nCarneades, 172, 235, 237, 306, 310.\n\nCassander, 256, 339, 351.\n\nCassandra, 347.\n\nCato, 48, 72, 211, 212, 263, 325, 369.\n\nCebes, 17.\n\nCephisocrates, 181.\n\nCephisodorus, 52.\n\nCeramicus, at Athens, 219, 259.\n\nCestus of Aphrodite, 76, 219.\n\nChaeron, son of Plutarch, 87.\n\nChaeron, and Chaeronea, 238.\n\nChaeronea, Plutarch's native place, 238.\n\nChalcis, people of, 51.\n\nChameleon, 158, 162.\n\nCharacter, moral, 102.\n\nChildless, paid court to, 28.\n\nChilo, 151, 202.\n\nChrysippus, 44, 99, 110, 113, 114, 115.\n\nCicero, 210, 318, 320, 390.\n\nCimon, father of Miltiades, 27, 52.\n\nClaudia, 84.\n\nCleanthes, 370.\n\nClearchus, 191.\n\nCleomachus, 51.\n\nCleonice, 343, 344.\n\nClitus, 113, 195, 277.\n\nClodius, 231, 232.\n\nClytaemnestra, dream of, 343.\n\nConjugal constancy, 81.\n  Conjugal precepts, 70-84.\n\nContentedness of mind, on, 289-311.\n\nContracts, 139.\n\nCorax, 352.\n\nCornelia, sister of Scipio, 84.\n\nCorrection of servants, 279-281.\n\nCrassus, 207, 208.\n\nCrates, 76, 141, 191, 203, 292, 328, 370, 372.\n\nCreon, his daughter, 151.\n\nCrete, 202.\n\nCrisso, 172.\n\nCroesus, 171, 192.\n\nCtesiphon, 275.\n\nCuriosity, 238-252.\n\nCybele, 47, 55, 82, 379.\n\nCyclades, 385.\n\nCynic, story about, 258.\n\nCynosarges, 32, note.\n\nCyrus, 79, 236, 250, 314, 326.\n\n\nDanaus, 27.\n\nDarius, 157, 250.\n\nDeity, on those who are punished late by the, 331-365.\n\nDemaratus, 193.\n\nDemetrius, 8, 191, 230.\n\nDemocritus, 14, 110, 129, 142, 249, 377.\n\nDemosthenes, 9, 128, 192, 205, 257, 259, 320, 321, 323, 331, 399.\n\nDiogenes, 2, 7, 93, 118, 123, 124, 127, 131, 140, 141, 193, 201, 203,\n  205, 248, 258, 259, 282, 292, 294, 301, 311, 383, 388, 389, 390,\n  391.\n\nDion, 11, 151, 161, 162, 192, 256.\n\nDionysius, the tyrant of Sicily, 76, 151, 160, 161, 162, 163, 168, 187,\n  188, 189, 226, 230, 261, 294, 321, 339.\n\nDionysius, a Corinthian poet, 51.\n\nDionysus (the Latin _Bacchus_), 45, 47, 91, 145, 393.\n\nDioxippus, 248.\n\nDisease, the sacred, 41, note.\n\nDisorders, of mind or body, which worse? 142, 145.\n\nDolon, 113, 120.\n\nDomitian, 251.\n\nDomitius, 207, 211.\n\nDorian measure, 134.\n\nDrink, 2, 216, 217, 284.\n\nDryads, 45.\n\n\nEarthenware, 366.\n\nEducation, 1-21.\n\nEgyptian, answer of an, 240.\n\nEmerson, on Plutarch, _see_ Title-page, and Preface, p. ix.\n\nEmpedocles, 43, 145, 149, 180, 288, 305, 371, 393, 396.\n\nEmpone, her devotion to her husband, 67-69.\n\nEnemies, how a man may be benefited by his, 201-213.\n\nEnthusiasm, 47.\n\nEnvy, 212, 213, 243, 304.\n  On envy and hatred, 312-315.\n  How one can praise oneself without exciting envy, 315-331.\n\nEpaminondas, 11, 52, 136, 161, 294, 318, 321, 326, 376.\n\nEphesus, 367.\n\nEphorus, 236.\n\nEpicharmus, 188, 189, 350.\n\nEpicureans, argued against, 21-28, 373-378.\n\nEpicurus, 24, 291, 306, 373, 375.\n\nEpitaphs, 247, 248.\n\nErasistratus, 25, 244.\n\nErgane, name of Athene, 397.\n\nEumenes, 222.\n\nEuphemism, 112, 143, 144, 167.\n\nEuphorion, 303.\n\nEupolis, 163.\n\nEuripides, quoted or referred to, 1, 8, 9, 14, 17, 27, 28, 40, 42, 43,\n  44, 50, 53, 56, 58, 60, 67, 79, 80, 86, 89, 107, 112, 119, 136, 138,\n  144, 146, 150, 151, 152, 155, 160, 170, 178, 179, 182, 190, 191, 194,\n  196, 197, 199, 205, 206, 207, 209, 214, 216, 222, 223, 236, 247, 251,\n  255, 256, 260, 261, 262, 270, 287, 290, 292, 293, 301, 305, 307, 309,\n  310, 315, 325, 332, 333, 334, 345, 346, 373, 379, 383, 388, 390, 391,\n  392, 397.\n\nEurydice of Hierapolis, 21.\n\nEurydice, wife of Orpheus, 53.\n\nEuthydemus, 283.\n\nEutropio, cook to King Antigonus, 16.\n\nEvenus, sayings of, 27, 155.\n\nExercise, value of, 12.\n\nExile, 378-394.\n\n\nFabius Maximus, 224, 225.\n\nFabricius, 294.\n\nFamily, defects and idiosyncrasies of, 356, 357.\n\nFancy, power of, 307.\n\nFathers, not to be too strict, 20.\n  To set a good example to their sons, 20, 21.\n  The _jus trium liberorum_, 22.\n  Saying of Evenus about fathers, 27.\n\nFavour, _the_, 33, 34.\n  Reminding of favours unpleasant, 181.\n\nFeast, every day a, 311.\n\nFickleness, 146.\n\nFlatterers, 19.\n  Saying of Phocion about, 77, 182.\n  How to be discerned from friends, 153-201.\n\nFlute-girls at marriages, 40.\n\nFortune, not to be railed at, 89-91.\n  Fortune's rope-dance, 139.\n  Fortune and vice, 140, 141.\n  On Fortune, 394-399.\n\nFreedom of speech, 185-201.\n\nFriends, on abundance of, 145-153.\n  Friendship going in pairs, 146, 147.\n  Originated by similarity, 152, 158, 159.\n  How friends are to be distinguished from flatterers, 153-201.\n\n\nGalba, story about, 49.\n\nGeese, ingenuity of, 229.\n\nGermanicus, idiosyncrasy of, 312.\n\nGlaucus, son of Epicydes, 353.\n\nGobryas, 157.\n\nGods considered as forces, 44, 302.\n  Perform their benefits secretly, 181.\n\nGorgias, 81.\n\nGorgo, wife of Leonidas, 84.\n\nGracchus, 273.\n\nGreat, the, especially open to flatterers, 184, 185.\n\nGrief, immoderate at death to be avoided, 86, 87, 88.\n  Unexpected grief worst, 113, 306.\n\nGylippus, 15.\n\n\nHabit, force of, 3, 4, 337.\n\nHannibal, remark of, 391.\n\nHappiness, the mind the seat of, 95.\n\nHares, 368.\n\nHarmodius, 67, 189, 220.\n\nHatred, and envy, 312-315.\n\nHegesias, 28.\n\nHelicon, Mount, 29, 30.\n\nHelots, 272.\n\nHemlock, how affected by wine, 228.\n\nHeraclea, 343.\n\nHeraclitus, 41, 93, 231, 276, 350, 387, 396.\n\nHercules, 39, 52, 299, 321, 347, 348, 352.\n\nHeredity, 1, 2, 351, 355.\n\nHermes, his functions, 46.\n  Proverbial saying about, 215.\n\nHerodotus, 72, 94, 141, 157, 171, 192, 299, 367, 388, 393.\n\nHerophilus, 244.\n\nHerrick, and Plutarch, _see_ Preface, viii, 288, note.\n\nHesiod, quoted or alluded to, 14, 36, 44, 96, 121, 123, 155, 180, 212,\n  256, 261, 290, 304, 341, 355, 398, 399.\n\nHiero, 209, 338.\n\nHieronymus, 271, 281.\n\nHipparchus, dream of, 343.\n\nHippocrates, 132, 237, 238.\n\nHippothorus, a tune, 70.\n\nHomer, alluded to or quoted, 16, 23, 24, 26, 33, 44, 45, 48, 52, 54, 55,\n  56, 61, 65, 66, 71, 75, 76, 80, 83, 91, 95, 101, 102, 108, 110, 113,\n  117, 118, 122, 127, 128, 130, 132, 138, 139, 142, 147, 149, 160, 161,\n  165, 170, 172, 176, 179, 187, 192, 195, 196, 197, 199, 200, 204, 209,\n  216, 217, 218, 219, 221, 222, 223, 226, 227, 235, 239, 246, 247, 254,\n  268, 270, 271, 272, 281, 283, 284, 290, 291, 292, 300, 301, 302, 304,\n  307, 308, 309, 313, 318, 319, 322, 323, 324, 326, 327, 329, 340, 341,\n  347, 352, 368, 369, 372, 378, 385, 386, 387, 397, 398.\n\nHyperides, 187.\n\nHypsipyle, her foster-child, 146.\n\n\nIbycus, story about, 228.\n\nIdaean Dactyli, 136.\n\nIgnorance of self, 143.\n\nImagination, power of, 101, 102.\n\nIndian wives, 140.\n  Indian sages, 140, 141.\n\nInfants, death of, 92.\n\nIolaus, nephew of Hercules, 39, 52.\n\nIphicrates, answer of, 94, 398.\n\n\nKnowledge of self, 154, 185, 207, 302.\n\n\nLabour, its power, 3.\n\nLacydes, friend of Arcesilaus, 181.\n\nLacydes, king of the Argives, 208.\n\nLais, famous courtesan, 32, 49, 63.\n\nLaw, martial, 211.\n\nLeaena, her heroism, 220, 221.\n\nLemnos, the women of, 41.\n\nLeo of Byzantium, saying of, 206.\n\nLife, the three kinds of, 11.\n  Like a game at dice, 293.\n  Chequered, 305.\n  \"Live unknown,\" whether a wise precept, 373-378.\n\nLitigation, evil effects of, 145.\n\nLivia, wife of Augustus, 225.\n\nLiver, the seat of desire, 115.\n\nLocrians, custom of the, 347.\n\nLocris, authorities of, 245.\n\nLove, to one's offspring, 21-28.\n  On love generally, 29-69.\n  God of Love, his festival at Thespiae, 29, 63.\n  Pandemian and Celestial love, 57.\n  No strong love without jealousy, 135.\n  Lovers admire even the defects of their loves, 136, 167, 168, 209,\n    213.\n  Love blind, 153.\n\nLoxias, name of Apollo, meaning of, 231.\n\nLyciscus, 332, 333.\n\nLycurgus, 3, 136, 230, 320.\n\nLydiades, 238.\n\nLydian measure, 134.\n  Lydian produce, 145.\n\nLynceus, 203.\n\nLysander, 76, 262.\n\nLysias, 218.\n\nLysimache, 263.\n\nLysimachus, king, 225, 241, 344, 390, 391.\n\n\nMaecenas, 49.\n\nMagas, 113, 276, 277.\n\nMan, his wretchedness, 26, 142.\n  Different views of men, 114.\n  Man's various idiosyncrasies and fortunes, 149.\n\nMarriage, 20, 31-39, 63-69.\n  Hesiod on the proper age for marriage, 36.\n  No _Meum_ and _Tuum_ to exist in marriage, 62, 74, 75.\n  Mutual respect a vital necessity in marriage, 62.\n  Conjugal Precepts, 70-84.\n\nMarsyas, 273.\n\nMeans, various kinds of, 104, 105.\n\nMeasures, Dorian and Lydian, 134.\n\nMedian war, 367.\n\nMedius, 184, 303.\n\nMegabyzus, 171, 302.\n\nMegara, wife of Hercules, 39.\n\nMegarians, their sacrifice to Poseidon, 133.\n\nMelanippus, 50.\n\nMelanthius, 81, 336.\n\nMeleager, 52.\n\nMeletus, 120, 141.\n\nMemory, the storehouse of learning, 14.\n\nMenander, 55, 96, 114, 115, 146, 150, 164, 173, 179, 257, 291, 305, 307,\n  310, 330.\n\nMenedemus, 98, 130, 165, 303.\n\nMetageitnion, 382.\n\nMetella, wife of Sulla, 219.\n\nMetellus, 222, 277, 320.\n\nMetrocles, 140, 295.\n\nMetrodorus, saying of, 77.\n\nMice, dislike to, 312.\n\nMiltiades, the son of Cimon, 27, 135, 338.\n\nMirrors of the ancients, 59, note.\n  Comparison of wives to mirrors, 73.\n  Proper use of the mirror, 76.\n  Comparison of the flatterer to a mirror, 161.\n\nMithridates, 170, 219.\n\nMoney, against borrowing, 365-373.\n\nMontaigne, and Plutarch, Preface, vii.\n\nMothers, to be carefully selected, 1.\n  To suckle their children, 4.\n\nMunychia, 38.\n\nMusic, power of, 102.\n\nMusonius, 370.\n\n\nNasica, saying of, 205.\n\nNations, most warlike also most amorous, 52.\n\nNatures, great, 338.\n\nNealces, story about, 397.\n\nNeglect, not liked, 150.\n\nNeocles, father of Themistocles, 27.\n\nNero, 151, 168, 175, 220, 284, 365.\n\nNicostratus, 49, 264.\n\nNight, Greek word for, 249.\n\nNinus and Semiramis, 37, 38.\n\nNiobe, 50.\n\nNo, saying, 255, 260, 262.\n\n\nOcnus, 304.\n\nOdysseus, self-restraint of, 101, 221, 307.\n\nOedipus, 28, 197, 250, 251.\n\nOenanthe, 37.\n\nOld age querulous, 329.\n\nOlympia, remarkable portico at, 214.\n\nOlympias, wife of King Philip, 75, 76.\n\nOlynthus, 305.\n\nOnomademus, wise advice of, 212.\n\nOratory, extempore and prepared, 9, 10, 128.\n  Laconic oratory, 230.\n\nOrpheus, 53.\n\n\nPaley, F. A., on the Moralia, Preface, vii.\n\nPan, 47.\n\nPanthea, 136.\n\nParmenides, his Cosmogony, 44.\n\nParmenio, 151.\n\nParthian juice, 141.\n\nPassions, difference in, 113, 114.\n\nPatroclus, 172, 187, 319, 325.\n\nPausanias and Cleonice, 343, 344.\n\nPederasty, _see_ Boys, love of.\n\nPerfection, not in mortals, 287.\n\nPericles, son of Xanthippus, 9, 11, 27, 258, 317, 323, 340, 349, 366.\n\nPerseus, 192, 193, 307.\n\nPersia, kings of, 73, 124, 140, 382, 387.\n\nPhaeethon, 293, 347, 394.\n\nPhalaris, 120, 168, 339.\n\nPhayllus and his wife, 49, 50.\n\nPhidias, 78.\n\nPhilip, King, 49, 50, 75, 80, 82, 188, 193, 230, 247, 276, 277, 384.\n\nPhilippides, comic poet, 32, 225, 241.\n\nPhilosophy, its importance, 11, 97, 98.\n  Philosophers' dress, 129, 141, 160, 203.\n  Birthplace of various philosophers, 389.\n\nPhilotas, 151.\n\nPhilotimus, 198.\n\nPhiloxenus, 373.\n\nPhocion, 77, 136, 182, 260, 280, 319, 327, 328.\n\nPhocylides, 5.\n\nPhoenix, tutor of Achilles, 5, 196.\n\nPhryne, 38, 49.\n\nPhrynis, 134.\n\nPindar, 33, 34, 45, 54, 116, 138, 183, 190, 205, 210, 212, 267, 275,\n  294, 302, 303, 310, 315, 316, 335, 339, 348, 355, 377, 384.\n\nPirithous, 151.\n\nPiso, Pupius, story about, 231, 232.\n\nPittacus, 222, 300.\n\nPlato, 2, 5, 7, 8, 12, 15, 17, 27, 29, 34, 47, 49, 62, 66, 74, 77, 82,\n  83, 93, 96, 99, 100, 106, 113, 114, 115, 118, 120, 125, 132, 135, 136,\n  153, 154, 157, 158, 160, 161, 162, 167, 187, 188, 192, 194, 196, 206,\n  209, 213, 220, 230, 255, 261, 264, 274, 286, 287, 293, 294, 306, 311,\n  334, 335, 336, 341, 342, 365, 385, 393, 395, 396.\n\nPlutarch's wife, _see_ Timoxena.\n\nPolemo, 196, 285, 385.\n\nPolycletus, 138.\n\nPolypus, the, 152, 158, 161.\n\nPolysperchon, 256, 261.\n\nPompey, the Great, 208, 210, 340.\n  His father Pompeius Strabo, 340.\n\nPortico, remarkable, 214.\n\nPorus, 277.\n\nPoseidon, 133.\n\nPostumia, 208.\n\nPraise of self, 315-331.\n\nProteus, 152.\n\nProverbs, 4, 5, 9, 14, 18, 19, 20, 49, 62, 75, 80, 82, 121, 146, 147,\n  154, 157, 175, 183, 189, 212, 215, 217, 235, 260, 263, 306, 317,\n  333, 334, 341, 355, 369.\n\nPtolemy Auletes, 168.\n\nPtolemy Epiphanes, 195.\n\nPtolemy Philadelphus, 16.\n\nPtolemy Philopator, 168.\n\nPtolemy Physcon, 174.\n\nPunishment, on those that receive late punishment from the Deity,\n  331-365.\n\nPuppies, differently trained, 3, 4.\n\nPydna, 192.\n\nPyrrho, saying of, 132.\n\nPythagoras, 2, 18, 19, 100, 151, 194, 211, 240, 245, 383.\n\nPythian Priestess, 233, 367.\n\n\nReason, power of, 101, 133, 221, 289.\n\nRemorse, 344, 345.\n\nRepartee, 206, 207.\n\nRespites, 339.\n\nRusticus, 251.\n\nRutilius, 370.\n\n\nSabinus, story about, 67-69.\n\nSappho, 34, 55, 84, 130, 274.\n\nSaturnalia, 311, note.\n\nSatyr, story about the, 202, 203.\n\nScaurus, 211.\n\nScilurus, and the bundle of sticks, 231.\n\nScipio, 318.\n\nSejanus, 151.\n\nSeleucus Callinicus, 226.\n\nSelf, love of, 153, 154, 301.\n  Ignorance of, 143.\n  Knowledge of, 154, 185, 207, 302.\n\nSemiramis, 37, 38.\n\nSenator, story about Roman, 223, 224.\n\nSeneca, 284.\n\nSextius, 123.\n\nShyness, 252-267.\n\nSilence, benefit of, 220-222, 230-232, 237.\n\nSimonides, 23, 106, 108, 126, 135, 154, 183, 184, 212, 237, 246, 299,\n  344, 384.\n\nSinatus, 63, 64.\n\nSinorix, 63, 64.\n\nSocrates, 2, 8, 15, 17, 54, 76, 136, 140, 145, 188, 192, 194, 196, 210,\n  232, 234, 235, 240, 250, 271, 277, 283, 292, 293, 299, 300, 308, 314,\n  336, 394.\n\nSolon, 33, 34, 56, 124, 171, 192, 213, 303, 335, 367.\n  His legislation for husbands, 65.\n  His direction to brides, 70.\n\nSophocles, quoted or referred to, 3, 43, 44, 47, 49, 50, 53, 62, 64, 76,\n  106, 122, 125, 134, 148, 150, 162, 197, 200, 207, 218, 227, 232, 242,\n  249, 251, 255, 272, 278, 281, 286, 295, 319, 376, 395, 397.\n\nSotades, 16.\n\nSpeusippus, nephew of Plato, 15, 192, 196.\n\nStep-ladders, 156.\n\nStep-mothers, 79, note.\n\nStilpo, 8, 133, 266, 295, 308.\n\nStoics, 172, 254, 302.\n\nStratocles, 32.\n\nSuicide, always possible, 309.\n\nSulla, 219, 322.\n\nSycophant, origin of word, 252.\n\n\nTalkativeness, 214-238.\n\nTantalus, 49, 138, 385, 394.\n\nTavern-frequenting, 131, note.\n\nTaylor, Jeremy, and Plutarch, Preface, vii, viii, 84, note, 238, note,\n  245, note, 288, note.\n\nTelephus, 207.\n\nTenedos, famous for earthenware, 366.\n\nTheano, wife of Pythagoras, 78, 84.\n\nThebans, and Lacedaemonians, 270.\n\nThemistocles, and his son, 1, 2.\n  His father Neocles, 27.\n  Themistocles and Miltiades, 135, 213, 338.\n  Suspicion about, 208.\n  Sayings of, 264, 314, 320.\n\nTheocritus, the Sophist, 16, 263.\n\nTheodorus, 141, 293, 327, 390, 391.\n\nTheognis, his advice, 152.\n\nTheophrastus, 124, 327.\n\nThero, the Thessalian, 52.\n\nTheseus, 151, 392.\n\nThespesius, of Soli, curious story about, 357-365.\n\nThessalians very pugnacious, 3, note.\n\nThessaly famous for enchantments, 75, note, 83.\n\nThucydides, 127, 152, 167, 195, 198, 208, 261, 265, 314, 317, 332, 336,\n  349, 389.\n\nTiberius, 151, 174, 175, 225, 384.\n\nTimaea, 294.\n\nTimesias, oracle given to, 151.\n\nTimoleon, 322.\n\nTimon, 107.\n\nTimotheus, 316.\n\nTimoxena, wife of Plutarch, consolatory letter to, 85-92.\n\nTimoxena, daughter of Plutarch, 85-92.\n\nTongue, government of the, 15, 16, 209, 210, 214-238, 274.\n  Barricaded by nature, 216.\n\nTraining, power of, 5-7.\n\nTriptolemus, 368.\n\nTruth, a divine thing, 154.\n\nTutors, choice of, 5-7;\n  Habits they teach boys, 94.\n\n\nVersatility, 152, 153.\n\nVespasian, 67, 69.\n\nVice, not got rid of as easily as a wife, 96.\n  Uneasiness of, 96, 97, 139.\n  Whether it is sufficient to cause unhappiness, 138-142.\n  Vice in embryo, 355, 356.\n\nVirtue, its two elements, 18.\n  Can be taught, 92-95.\n  On virtue and vice, 95-98.\n  On moral virtue, 98-118.\n  On progress in virtue, 118-138.\n\n\nWashing hands usual before dinner, 156.\n\nWealth, has wings, 124, 303.\n\nWives, to be carefully selected, 1.\n  Rich wives, 20, 138.\n  Indian wives, 140.\n\nWords, winged, 223.\n\nWyttenbach, his criticism on Reiske, Preface, viii, ix.\n\n\nXanthippe, wife of Socrates, 210, 283.\n\nXanthippus, father of Pericles, 27.\n\nXenocrates, 66, 77, 118, 196, 248, 261, 385.\n\nXenophanes, 55, 108, 257.\n\nXenophon, 17, 83, 166, 191, 202, 239, 250, note, 289, 316, 335, 389.\n\nXerxes, 272, 299.\n\n\nYouth, a ticklish period of life, 17, 18.\n\n\nZaleucus, 322.\n\nZeno, founder of the Stoics, 99, 102, 124, 132, 203, 217, 220, 262, 263,\n  285, 294, 327, 386.\n\nZeuxis, his remark on painting, 148.\n\n\nCHISWICK PRESS:--C. WHITTINGHAM AND CO., TOOKS COURT,\nCHANCERY LANE.","title":"Plutarch's Morals","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":160551}