CAESARION, OR Historical, Political, and Moral DISCOURSES. IN Four Days ENTERTAINMENT between two Gentlemen, very Pleasant and Useful for all ORDERS of Men whatsoever.  
Englished by J. W.  
LONDON, Printed by J. Streater, and are to be sold by John Weld, at the Crown near Temple-Bar. MDCLXXXV.   

IMPRIMATUR.  
R.L.S.   

TO The HONOURABLE Sir Edward Windham, Baronet.  
Honoured Sir,  
ONe of the chiefest Ingredients, that serves to complete a Man's happiness in this World, is the right adapting of things, and the fit applying them to Time, Place, and Persons, as occasion requires. The Sun has not yet finished his Course through the Zodiac, 
The History of the Eucharist.  since I had the Happiness of showing my Obsequiousness to a venerable Judge of your Name and Family, upon another Argument: It happened to be his Viaticum, he soon after disappeared, and entered into his Master's Joy.  
You are now, Sir, mounting the Horizon, beginning to run your Course, my inclination, as well as the florid Season of the Year, excites me to congratulate your coming to London: Were my Abilities answerable to my Mind, there should not a Year nor a Day pass, but I would express my Gratitude to the Ancient, Loyal, and Flourishing Families of the Wyndhams & hungerford's in general, (from whence you are Linealy descended) and to Yourself (the Top and Chief Branch) in particular, for the many Favours I stand obliged unto you.  
A Person of Quality, and great Merit, was pleased not long ago to recommend this little Book to me, as a thing well enough approved of by the Curious: I looked upon it again and again, and found, that though it be little in Bulk, yet 'tis very Great in Worth and Value: What would we have but Flowers and Marrow, Strength and Beauty; it treats of the greatest Persons of Antiquity, and discovers their spots and perfections; it extends to the greatest Persons of the times past and present: It universally regards all Mankind: The Famous Author of it is deservedly reputed one of the greatest Men of this Age. I freely confess, I find in it so many Notions applicable to myself, and every body else that has seen anything of the World, and so many Moral as well as Political Remarks and Maxims, worthy of your Knowledge, Practice, and Observation, that rather than it should any longer lie incognito, I could not forbear Communicating it to the World, under the auspicious Protection of your Great Name; and to confirm my Hypothesis, I find a Conformity betwixt the Interlocutor and your Circumstances, and therefore do make it Yours rather than any body's else.  
Proceed therefore, Noble Sir, to the Court, and to the Senate-house, Imitate the worthy Example of the Famous Curtius, and prove a true English Manlius, in encouraging true Religion and Virtue, and distributing Justice Impartially, in the Sphere God has placed you. I have seen several of your Friends treat you with their fine Coaches, Houses, Gardens, etc. I thought a Book, amongst your other Recreations, might sometimes serve for a Diversion, Quell ch'io ho jo u'el dono. Beseeching Almighty God to preserve you from all temporal Dangers, and finally to reward you with everlasting Happiness, I ever remain;  
Honoured Sir Your most obedient Humble Servant, Jos. Walker.   

CAESARION. The first Day.  
Sir,  
NOthing can be truer than your Opinion, for Art and Education only cannot make a Man, of extraordinary Merit, neither can Nature alone do it much better, and were I to choose, I should prefer a good Education, with a moderate Talon, rather than the greatest Natural Parts with a Mean Education. I have particular reasons to be of this Opinion. You know, I had the Fortune to fall into good hands in my younger Years, and though I signify not much, I verily believe it had been worse with me, if I had not had that happiness; and I will tell you what befell me, since you know it already. I had indifferently well performed my Studies and Exercises at the University etc. and was as well pleased at it myself, as those that had the Inspection over me. When it was my Chance to be present with some Gentlemen of my acquaintance, who agreed to make your Friend a Visit in the Country, where he usually passed the Summer, his Name, which was not unknown to me, gave me the Curiosity to be one of the number: I cannot tell what he discovered in me that pleased him, but when my Company were returning, he so courteously desired me to stay, that I could not refuse him; having spent some Days in common Discourse, the wearyness of the Country, to which young People are often subject, so prevailed, that I began to have a desire to see the Town again, however I had so much Complaisance not to be gone so soon as I could have wished, but I was not discreet enough to conceal my uneasiness, which Caesarion observed, and seeking only to divert me, took occasion to entertain me upon the very Subject. Do not think, said he one day, (having almost made me own it) that I blame you, it is a thing Natural to Persons of your Age, who being like you endowed with the Qualities that make them succeed in the World, are most desirous to communicate them to others, and to make trial whether their Sufficiency be such, as they believe it. I am only troubled (said he) you should enter into the World without knowing it, and which is worse in believing it to be other than it is. I shall know it as others do, said I, when I launch into it: You think then, said he, that all those, who are in it understand it, and how, said I, could they guide themselves in it, all their Life if they did not know it, like blind Men, said he, in an irregular great House, the forward Fools go by chance, and the wisest grope to find the way, almost all the World may be considered one of these ways, and there is nothing more difficult, than to penetrate into Men and Business.  
Those who are capable of Reflection have a confused knowledge, that they see not clearly, and despairing of ever surmounting the obscurity, wherewith they are encompassed, they lay aside their Circumspection, they rather desist than proceed for fear of missing their Aim; they Essay and try the best they can every thing they find in their way, before they trust or rely upon it, and flatter themselves that in Time, and with Patience in turning round and trying every way, at last they shall find something, and (if I may so speak) they think they are fallen into the lap of Fortune: You shall often see great Places occupied by Men of this Mould, it is such are cried up by the Vulgar sort for Wise and able Men; nevertheless it is neither Greatness of Spirit, nor Nobleness of Mind that has placed them in the Station they are in, it is only because they were afraid of every thing, and began betimes, and from the opposite to what they are, from the lowest attain to the highest Degree, they intended not to stay for what they knew they did not deserve, and whereunto probably they had some inward shame to aspire; these kind of Men are commonly seen in Italy, and this kind of circumspect close Carriage, without any other Talon, has more than once mounted Persons unto the highest and greatest Preferments.  
There be others, I told you, that govern themselves quite another way, but also with as little knowledge. These are persons naturally bold and resolute, but wanting Judgement; obstinate, indefatigable, violent in all their Motion, are always extravagant in their carriage, who never alter the course they have taken, be it never so difficult, they are startled nor restrained by nothing, and resolve to surmount all Obstacles whatsoever. This kind of Men, having no Solid Judgement, and going still onwards do of course find many things which rather impede than forward them, and stopping to remove that they should shun, they many times afflict themselves in vain and to no purpose, and seldom find any good Success, unless it be by some unlooked for Accidents, wherein Violence and Inadvertence are the chief Ingredients. It being Chance which produces these Conjunctures they succeed sometimes sooner; whereas those, who are circumspect, never arrive thereunto unless it be in a long Process of Time. At first they be laughed at, because all imprudent ways are to be despised, and that nothing is more ridiculous than to strive without any likelihood of attaining, but however they succeed soon or late. Fortune is a Woman, she loves to be importuned, not to say forced, and it is almost the same of the Honours of this World as of those of the next, that the Violent take them by Force.  
I sufficiently believe, answered I, (seeing Caesarion stop) what you have said; but are there only these two sorts of Men in the World, and can it be, that there are none truly wise amongst such Multitudes of Men? Yes doubtless said he, there are, but many by one Accident or other are fling out of Fortunes' Chariot before they come unto the end of the Race, or come out themselves, having found by Experience that they are not fit to run the Course.  
What, answered I, than it should seem by your Discourse, that persons of Merit are more unfit for the World than those others which you have described, Yes, without doubt. And how can that be, replied I, much concerned at his Words: Is it not much better for all to have Wisdom than not, the danger is not in having Wisdom, said he instantly, nothing is more Desirable, whatever men think, nor so Useful and Universal. Whatever Fortune men attain unto who are destitute of it, they have only an imperfect sense of their Happiness, and always live deprived of the most solid satisfactions, which it might afford.  
But the Evil is, that those, which have too much Wisdom, have some secret Inclinations of complying with the Maxims of the World. They do enough to show the way they should go in, but they do not continue long in it. Can there be seen a greater piece of Flattery, than that of Aristippus kissing old Dennis the Tyrant's feet, in ask him a Boon: It was all a wise Man could do that desired to live peaceably in a Tyrant's Court, but he should have stopped there, and not have answered those that wondered at it, that Dennis had Ears in his Feet. This Action spoke of itself, and needed no Explanation: And so it is, that many Men, of great parts, lose the fruit of much pains which they take to attain their Ends with great Men, through their weakness in not keeping their own Counsel.  
Not that this Expression had any harm in it, it seems to me the least of those which we have remaining of this Excellent Person, and I much more esteem the Answer of the Philosopher Favorinus unto those, who blamed him, for submitting without reason to the Emperor Adrian, in a Dispute which he had with this Prince: And how could he choose but be in the right, that had the Command of Thirty Legions. Yet you see this Expression, how wise soever it is, might have been taken very ill of the Emperor, if it had been applied unto him, or at least it might have made Favorinus have forfeited the Merit of his Discretion.  
In this manner it is, that the ablest Persons discover themselves when they are overcome with Weakness and Pride, and that they cannot strike Sail unto greater Powers: The inconsiderate freedom of Philoxenes appears much more pardonable; you know that the above mentioned Dennis having condemned him to the Mines for not approving some Verses this Tyrant had made, being set at liberty, Dennis, thinking he had made him more Compliable, showed him other Verses; but Philoxenes could not prevail with himself to find them any better than the former, not doubting but his Sincerity should receive the like Punishment; instead of the Praises which the Tyrant expected, he gave no other answer than this, to the Mines, to the Mines, directing his words unto the same Satellites, which had lately freed him. I much better approve the equal Resolution of this unfortunate Poet, than the Timorousness of Aristippus and Favorinus, who having prevailed with themselves to do what they ought, yet could not forbear saying what they should not have spoke. I should rather pardon the inconsiderate answer of Gondamor, the Spanish Ambassador, unto James the first King of England, with whom making his Court and discoursing in Latin, the King, speaking it correct and perfectly well, fell into a laughter at some slips the Count made, at which the Ambassador said of a sudden, that his Latin was the Latin of a King, but the King's was that of a Pedant. It is probable, it was a sudden Motion which this able Statesman could not Control, wherein I find him more excusable than Favorinus and Aristippus, who made the Replies, for which I blame them, in cold Blood.  
Moreover, I suppose that it might be farther said in the Ambassador's Justification, that how free soever his Answer was, it was of a good Courtier, inasmuch as it ascribed unto the King the glory of speaking good Latin, whereof he was so Ambitious; Yes, answered Caesarion, but it was turning this Glory into ridicule, and nothing more frets great Persons than to slight things, wherein they think they excel, how unbeseeming soever they be unto them. And it is, whereof, the Grammarian with whom Philip of Macedon disputed about a Question, was unmindful as well as you, when he answered this Prince, God forbidden, Sir, that you should know this matter as well as I.  
This Answer, replied I, seems very polite for a Grammarian, and one could not more cleverly have intimated unto a great King, that he was in an error. But what resemblance is there betwixt That and our Practice: The Grammarians of our times are seldom guilty of such faults, and seldom dispute with Kings. Every Age and Country have their Customs, replied Caesarion, nevertheless, you see by these Instances, that Pride, being inseparable from those that have much Wit, is but a very ill way of making their Court. The greatest Part cannot comply in seeing preferred, before them, Persons not worthy to be compared unto them, and hid many times part of their Merit to prevent Jealousy in others, and by seeing Superiors assume unto themselves the Labour and Desert of those which serve under them. To conclude, to behold Favour with the same respect which is only due to Merit: But if there be any found, that have the Command over themselves wholly to Sacrifice their Pride, when it doth not accord with their Interest, those have most commonly some other Failing no less hurtful, and that is, to be subject to their Pleasures.  
This Defect, answered I, seems not unto me so dangerous as the other, there's Time for all things, and Men would be miserable, if there was not a time for Recreations. Pleasures, replied Caesarion, are a greater hindrance than you Imagine, and a Man, that enters into the World with high Designs, has but few hours to spare, if he intends to settle himself in any Creditable way, and to appear Expert betimes. Moreover, nothing doth so insensibly engage in troublesome Affairs as Love, for the most beautiful Women are not always the most reasonable, nor the least wicked, and when once they take up the trade of Gallanting, they expose every thing else.  
These be the Baits, which Pride and Pleasures lay before Persons of Merit, and wherein most do suffer themselves to be ensnared; it is, what makes them go astray, or at least stops them in their course, whilst others, not being detained by these things, go forwards, and fill the Places, which Persons of Merit might justly have pretended unto. If it be so, they do ill, said I, and I do not pity them in the least; nevertheless they are to be pitied, said he, and if ever you fall into any inconvenience of this Nature, you will find it is harder to resist than you imagine. I mean of Persons well descended, as for those which endeavour to raise themselves only by the Evil which they do, having no other means to become Great, to satisfy their Revenge or their Malice, or any of those Passions wherein their Delight does consist, in vexing others, and never affording any Rest or Contentment to themselves, such Persons never find any thing unworthy which may tend unto their Ends, nor nothing pleasing as may any way hinder them from attaining their Desires.  
I understand your Meaning, answered I, at these words, but I cannot believe that the greatest number of Persons of Merit are Guilty of these two Faults you have mentioned; on the contrary, said he, these defects are almost inseparable, those which are extremely vain are not Amorous, or are not so very long. To Love, one must think there is want of something which one has not, and not be over-well content with ones self, so that Persons, that are very Amorous, cannot well be very Proud. Love is such an overflowing Spring of gross Defects, that make but ever so little Reflection in this State, one shall scarce keep any good Opinion at all of himself: So that it is very seldom, that any Man is affected with these two different Extremes at once, either of them is sufficient to ruin him that entertains it; and it often happens, that Men pass from one of them to the other. Being recovered from the Love of Glory, Men fall into Voluptuousness, as Lucullus did, and sometimes also from Pleasure's Men entertain thoughts of Glory, but that's but seldom.  
It is pity, said I, that these two Passions, so incident unto Persons of good Extraction, should be so hurtful unto their Fortunes; for I suppose, that when they are settled in us, it is very difficult to moderate them; a thousand times, said he, more difficult than you can imagine, and it is wherein Caesar showed himself the Greatest Man that ever was; 
* Pint. in his Life, & Suet. c. 74, etc.  one of his Friends is accused of the most Criminal Correspondence in the World with his Wife, no less than Adultery and Sacrilege both at once, and in so public a Manner, that he is arraigned for it before the severest Tribunal in Rome; it was a Person absolutely necessary for his Designs; it was necessary to repair this Injury, but it was no less convenient not to differ with him that did it, there needed an excellent temper of Mind, to find an Expedient to reconcile two such opposite Inclinations, and any body, besides Caesar, would have been swayed by the Consideration of his Honour rather than Interest, or rather would have taken care of his Glory, which was his Interest to have done. He put away his Wife, saying, it was only because she was suspected; and to show at the same time she was Innocent, he refused to produce any Evidence against him, that had Debauched her.  
If you inquire into his Pleasures, you will therein find the same Precaution; his Frolicks at Bithynia were only Youthful Extravagancies, which were of no great Consequence, and could only serve as matter of sport unto some Soldiers in a day of Triumph. 
Suet. c. 49.  His Gallantries at Rome served only to Amuse him no longer than that they were no hindrance to his other Designs, but when his discretion became suspected of Treason, and that they would Accuse him of a Crime of State for a Paper he received in the Senate-house because he went about to conceal it, 
Plut. in Cato of Vtic.  having done the part of a Gallant in concealing a Lady's Favours, he made no difficulty of sacrificing his Mistress' Letter unto the severe Cato, who had defied him to do it; who no sooner looked on it, but he saw it was his Sister's hand. Cleopatra herself, whatever is said of it, stayed him no longer than was necessary to assure the Conquest of Egypt, the great Importance whereof at that time is sufficiently known; neither did she hinder him (as she did his Lieutenant afterwards) to prosecute the Course of his Victories; yet, said I, she must needs be more Beautiful then; she was so, said he, for she was but 19 Years Old, but she had not so much Experience as afterwards, and besides, she had a particular Kindness for Antonius, she was the Mistress of his Master, and what Master?  
What you have said of Caesar, answered I, in that he would not prosecute his Wives Gallant, puts me in mind of another Husband that I was told of a while ago, which was not altogether so Scrupulous: It was the Beautiful Duchess- D'Estampes Husband, Mistress unto Francis the first, after the Death of this Prince, the good Man would needs begin a Lawsuit against his Wife, which he durst not do any sooner, by reason of the great Kindness the King had for the Lady as long as he lived; and having occasion to prove this nice Point in open Court, 
These Informations are to be seen in the King 's Library.  he caused Informations to be made, wherein Henry the 2. and other chief Lords of the Court at his request testified, in the handsomest terms they could, the great influence his Wife had on the King, and the strict Amity was betwixt that Prince and her. But to return to our business, be pleased to let me tell you, that I don't see but there be as many good men as others that attain to good Fortune: For if Pride and Voluptuousness hinder them on one hand, their extraordinary Gifts, whereby they understand the World better than others, should advance them to better Success: It is true, replied he, for such as have great Endowments of Mind without any Love of Virtue, which is more frequent than one imagines; for the most part of those which are esteemed cunning able Oppressors, are only unjust but not wise, and the Vulgar only think them to be so, because they attain their Ends, without examining how or by what means they do it. But as for truly Virtuous Men how wise soever they be, they have in their Soul a Natural Incapacity of knowing the World, which hinders them more from making any Fortune in it, than all their other Passions besides; and the reason is, to remove all our Admirations, continues he without giving me leave to interrupt him; that the World being composed of Injustice, Oppression, Fraud; when one is born honest, just, and sincere; one cannot conceive but after a long and sad Experience, and when 'tis too late; I say, one cannot believe, that Men can be so divided amongst themselves, and that the same things, which appear so fair or deformed unto some, should appear the quite contrary unto others. Whereas Vicious persons, findgin nothing in themselves that contradicts what's practised in the World, have no difficulty to know what it is, and to accommodate themselves to its Maxims. Nevertheless, answered I, if some ingenious Person, that I looked upon as my Friend, did represent it unto me Naturally and to the Life; how strange soever it appeared, I should have no difficulty to understand it. For to conclude, it's no such new or strange thing, to hear that the World is corrupt, and that Men are unjust and wicked, it is what is heard daily in every body's Mouth. It is true, replied he, smiling, it is daily spoken: Nevertheless it is only such as have made long and deep Reflections in trial of it, that can imagine unto what degree the thing is true; and you yourself that speak, should the wisest Man, that ever was, tell you exactly what 'tis, you would not believe him. But I tell you, I would believe him: But I tell you, you would not believe him: You are a strange Man, replied I, (with a kind of concernedness, as made him smile) to imagine that you know better than I, what I should believe, or what not: without doubt, I know better than you do your own self. And for what reason, I pray? the reason is, that knowing the things this able Person would tell you, I can tell better than you, that did not know them, if you would believe them, or if you would not believe them: You may say what you list, answered I, you shall never make me agree unto all your Subtleties, that I should not believe what was told me, when what's told me should be true. And for trial, endeavour to tell me something, that you know to be most incredible, and you shall perceive by the course I shall take, whether I shall believe it, or not. Some other time, replied he, we will make this Essay, if you think fit; for we have discoursed a good while, what diverted you at first may in continuance be troublesome to you, and you may well imagine, that is not my Intention.  
The End of the First Day.   

CAESARION. The Second Day.  
NExt day I risen much sooner than I was accustomed, the new Ideas, which your Friends discourse wrought in me, would not let me rest, and I was impatient to have them more fully explained: You must needs grant, that less matters might justly cause Admiration; no Person ever had a clearer apprehension, nor judged all things more accurately than he did, he had a peculiar way of expressing himself as seemed to Charm his hearers; that's not strange thing in common Conversation. Many do speak very well and smoothly of matters daily discoursed of, but to express one's self so well in such sublime matters, as those he communicated to me, nothing seems more admirable in my Opinion. This incomparable and so rare a Gift was particularly his Talon. I have conversed with other Persons, that were little inferior to him in Parts, but you must as 'twere guess at their Meaning, and their Gifts were a Treasure, that none but themselves could reap any benefit by; him that most of all resembled him, and that came nearest him in handling matters, and for whom he had the greatest kindness, was so obscure, that Caesarion, who only understood him, was wont to say of him, that he spoke by figures darkly; and I have observed, that the greatest and most profound Wits have the greatest difficulty, in making themselves be understood.  
I entertained myself with these thoughts, walking in a Gallery that joined unto his Closet, not thinking that he was yet stirring, when of a sudden, I saw him coming towards me: I perceive, said he, that serious discourses are something contrary to your Humour, I can only impute the cause of your so early rising unto those we had together Yesterday; a little thing serves to stir up Admiration in a person of your Age and Temper, but that shall be avoided hereafter: Come let's go to Breakfast, and let's lay aside our Discourse of Morals; to say the truth, a good nap of sleep is better than all we can say; I made a sudden Pause at these words, looking steadily upon him, to look if he really believed what he said, and if he judged a privation of Sense and Motion better than the Discourse we had the precedent Day: I may, said he, reply in the words of one of the Ancients, unto whom one said, that for a Philosopher, he made but little account of Philosophy. Why, it is even that, replied he, which is to be a Philosopher, but I will not use so proud an Evasion; It is neither Contempt, nor Pride, which inspire me with the thoughts, whereat you are so much surprised, it is a kind of Stupidity of Soul, in fine, a kind of Contempt of Life, which would appear very reasonable unto you, did you but know, how I have hitherto spent it.  
Our Breakfast held not long, and the Sun was already too high to go abroad, therefore we returned to the Closet from whence he came; there were several Books lying open upon the Table, and Notes and Memorials which seemed to be newly Written: I was not so much Master of myself, but that I cast an Eye upon them, and being about to excuse myself, he prevented me, saying, that they were no Secrets, and if they were, that nothing should be a Secret to me in his House: Then, I replied, that if I should believe all his Kindnesses were real, he should tell me if they were Secrets or not: Seeing you are desirous to know the truth, they are only Abstracts, I have drawn this morning out of the Books you see, for my own private Diversion, to clear up one of the most curious matters of Antiquity, wherein I resolved fully to satisfy myself; whereupon, desiring him to impart it to me, he soon yielded, and being sat down, he began in this manner.  
Yesterday we spoke amongst other things of Cleopatra, but it may be, you don't know what kind of Man her Father was, besides the name of Ptolemy, which was common unto all the Kings of Egypt, he was Surnamed Flute-Player, 
Auletes. Strab. and Porphyr in Euseb.  for he so much admired that Instrument, that he assembled into his Palace, those which professed to be the most skilful at it, and vied with them, which Played best, him or they; his Predecessor, named Alexander, being exiled from his Kingdom by his Subjects, fled unto Tyre, where he Died not long after, 
De lege Agraria 1 & 2.  and having no Issue, nor no other lawful Prince of the blood Royal to succeed, he made the people of Rome his Heirs, thinking he could not commit his Kingdom into safer hands; accordingly the Senate, intending to reap the benefit of so fair a Succession, dispatched also Deputies unto Tyre, to recover certain sums of Money, left there by this King at his Decease, but all these Projects fell to the ground. Some Tribunes urged amongst other Reasons, that it was of dangerous Consequence, that the Pleasantness and Fertility of Egypt might allure too many of the People of Rome to go thither, if once they were Masters of it; therefore the Father of Cleopatra possessed himself of it, as Uncle or half-Brother to the late King, which had been formerly practised in that Illustrious Family.  
There was no Prescription unto the Pretensions of the People of Rome, and it was but an uncertain Title of holding a Country that had been so well settled before, unless some Means could be found to make them quit their Claim. All the former Kings of Egypt had been Friends, or Allies unto the Romans, and upon several Occasions, improved the benefits which accrued thereby. It regarded the present King more immediately than any other: He could not be received more Authentically for a Lawful King, than by admitting him, their Ally; and because the Ceremony was usually performed in the Capitol; the Alliance, 
Pro Rabirio Postumo.  by this means, became a Matter of Religion, than which nothing could be more Sacred and Inviolable.  
But the more necessary all this was, for him to attain to, so much the more difficult it was, how to accomplish it? The Memory of his Predecessors Testament was still fresh in Mind, and as the Faults of Princes, which are not suitable to their Quality, are not easily forgiven, although many times greater Failures are passed by; the Surname of Flute-Player, which this King had got, gained him as much Discredit at Rome, as it had done at Egypt: Nevertheless he despaired not of good Success, but all the Means he used to attain his Ends proved fruitless for a long time, and in all likelihood would never have succeeded, had not Caesar been Consul. This ambitious Spirit, who embraced every thing that favoured his Designs; being cumbered with excessive Debts, finding this King disposed to purchase by Money, what he could not attain by Right, sold him the Alliance of Rome, as dear as he would purchase it, and received for himself and Pompey (whose Interest was necessary to procure the People's consent) near Six Thousand Talents, which amounts unto Ten or Eleven Millions of our Money.  
Although this King did every year raise twice as great a Sum in his Country, he could not on a sudden raise this, without very much burdening his Subjects; they were already dissatisfied with him, for suffering the Romans to invade Cyprus, which anciently belonged unto Egypt. In this Conjuncture, the extraordinary Impositions he was forced to make so displeased his Subjects, that they openly rebelled; whereupon he resolved to make his escape privately, to preserve his Life. He conveyed himself so secretly away, that it was reported in Egypt he was slain, or they seemed to believe so. The Eldest of his three Daughters called Bernice was Proclaimed Queen in his stead, although he had two Sons, but much Younger than the Daughters, and she soon after married a Neighbour Prince, which pretended to be Issued from the Ancient Kings of Syria.  
Soon after her Father arriving at the Isle of Rhodes, which was in his way to Rome, understanding that Marcus Cato (afterwards surnamed Utica) was also arrived there; this Prince, desirous to entertain him of his Affairs, caused notice to be given him of his being there, supposing this wise Roman would not have failed, presently to visit him. But Cato sent him word, that he should come to him, if he had a mind to speak with him; when Ptolemy entered his Chamber, he did not so much as rise off his Seat, but saluting him only as an ordinary Person, bid him sit down. The King, although surprised at such a Reception, could not but admire, how so much Height and Greatness could meet together in the same Man, with so much modesty and plainness, as appeared in his Habit and Equipage: But he was much more astonished, when having discoursed of his Affairs, Cato blamed him openly, for quitting the finest Kingdom in the World, to go expose himself to the Pride and Covetousness of the great Men of Rome, and to suffer a thousand Indignities by them. That it would be much his wisest way, to return aboard his Ships, and sail back for Egypt, to agree with his Subjects, and that he was ready to accompany him thither, if he pleased, and would employ himself in their Reconciliation.  
Ptolemy, awakened by this Discourse as from a Dream, having seriously considered his precipitate Wrath against his Subjects in Egypt, confessed his ill Conduct in forsaking his Country. But his Followers, that attended him, being prevailed with by Pompey, to have him go to Rome, in the hopes, which all the World perceived afterwards, having diverted him from the good Counsel given him by Cato, he proceeded on his voyage, and repent at leisure for having hearkened unto them, finding himself constrained afterwards, to go from Door to Door, and from one Magistrate to another in this proud City, soliciting his Business like a common ordinary Person.  
Caesar, on whose help he built his greatest Hopes was not in Rome, he was making War in Gaul. But Pompey, being there, entertained him in his House, and did him all friendly Offices. Besides the Money I told you he received of this Prince conjointly with Caesar, 
Plin. Hist. l. 33. c. 10.  Ptolemy had deserved Pompey's favour by divers services he had rendered him in his Wars against Mithridates, and had defrayed the Charge of 8000 Horse in the Wars of Judea. Having therefore represented unto the Senate, the Rebellion of his Subjects, he desired they might be reduced under his Obedience, as their Alliance obliged the Romans to do; 
Dion. 39 ad Fam. l. 1, Ep. 1. in Pisonem, pro Rabirio.  in which affair Pompey's Faction prevailed, and it was resolved accordingly. Upon the Proposition made by the Consul Publius Cornelius Lentulus, it was agreed, that he should draw Lots with his Colleague, in what Provinces they should go to command as Proconsul's, when they had finished their Year; and because Cilicia was one of those nominated for them, and that it was only separated from Egypt by the Coast of Syria, it was agreed, that unto either of them, to whose Lot it should fall, he should be charged with the King's Re-establishment.  
It fell to Lentulus his Lot to undertake this Business, but before his Consulship was ended, the Egyptians, hearing their King was not dead as they supposed, and that he was at Rome, dispatched away a Solemn Embassy, to represent and justify their Revolt and Proceed to the Senate; this Embassy was composed of a hundred Persons of good Note, the chief of which was a famous Philosopher, 
Pro Caelio de Harusp. resp. Strabo, & Dion. ibid.  called Dion, who had many and great Friends: Ptolemy, having notice hereof, used Means, by Murder and Poison, to destroy the greatest Part of these Ambassadors, and so terrified those, whom he could not corrupt, nor make away, that they dared not execute their Commission, nor demand Justice for so many Murders and Violences. But the heinousness of his Crimes being known by every body, it was no less hurtful unto him, than if they had been prosecuted in the due course of Justice; it in the end rendered the King as odious as he was despicable, and the vast Sums of Money, which he employed in gaining and corrupting the meanest and most covetous Persons in the Senate, became so publicly known, that it was the general and common Town-talk. There had not to that time been seen so much Corruption and Violence used at once about any business whatsoever; and when there was occasion offered to speak in public of this King's Affairs, his coming to Rome was always esteemed one of the greatest Mischiefs, that ever happened to the Commonwealth; having absolutely completed the Debauchery and Corruption of good Manners, by his ill Practices and Example.  
Several other Ambassadors of Allies being sent to Rome, 
Pro Caelio de Harusp. reso  to complain of their Magistrates, were abused after the same manner as those of Egypt were, but these last having, filled up the Measure, all honest Men in the Senate showed themselves on this occasion. Marcus Favorinus, amongst others, a Philosopher of the Sect of the Stoics, was the first that declared himself against Ptolemy, he caused to be resolved, that the Academist Dion, Chief of the Embassy, should be sent to the Senate House to declare the Truth of things, but 'twas to little effect; the Faction of the King joined with that of Pompey and Lentulus, of those whom he had gained with Money, and of those that had supplied him Money to corrupt others, acted so publicly in his favour, that Dion dared not appear, and Ptolemy causing him to be slain soon after, although the Homicide was lawfully accused, 
Pro Caelio.  yet he was acquitted for saying he had just reason for what he had done.  
Whether this Prince thought he had no more to do at Rome that required his Presence there; or that being generally hated, as he was, he might receive some Affront should he stay there any longer, he soon after withdrew himself to Ephesus, into the Temple of Diana, until he saw what Course his Destiny would take.  
Things were in this state, towards the end of the Year, DCXCVI. of the City's Foundation, at which time the new Tribunes of the People entered their Office, according to Custom the 13 of December; one of which called Cajus Cato, a bold resolute Young Man, who wanted no Eloquence, declared himself in frequent Speeches against Lentulus and Ptolemy, with a general Approbation.  
In the beginning of the following Year, DCXCVII. an Image of Jupiter, being overthrown by Lightning in Mount Alban, according to the ancient Custom, the Books of the Sibyls were consulted to know what this Prodigy portended, and in them these Words were found. If a King of Egypt has need of help, and addresses himself unto you, do not refuse him your Friendship, nevertheless grant him not Succours, for by so doing you will suffer much Damage.  
The usual Manner was, to communicate these kind of Oracles, first to the Senate, to examine if it were lawful to divulge them. But Cajus Cato, fearing the King's Faction might resolve to suppress this, it being so much to this Prince's prejudice, without farther Ceremony, presented the Priests, which kept these sacred Records unto the People, and by Virtue of the Power his Tribune-ship gave him, obliged them to expose unto the Public, what they had therein found without consulting the Senate in the matter.  
This unexpected proceeding was as 'twere another Thunderclap to Ptolemy and Lentulus. The words of the Sibyl were too precise and exactly calculated to the present Conjuncture, not to imprint in the People the Impressions, the King's Enemies desired, and Lentulus, whose Consulship was expired, not willing to receive in Person the disgrace of revoking the Senat's Decree, which had appointed him to restore Ptolemy, went away immediately into his Province. In fine, a few days after, one of the new Consuls, called Marcellinus, an open Enemy unto Pompey, having represented the Sense of the Oracle to the Senate; it was resolved, Obedience should be given unto it, and that it was not safe for the Commonwealth, 
Ad Fam. l. 1. Ep. 1. ad Q. F. l. 2. Ep. 2. Ap. in Sir. & Parth. etc.  to re-establish the King of Egypt by force of Arms.  
Caesarion stopping at these words, as 'twere to recollect what he had else to say; I could not hid my admiration from him, that in so learned an Age, the most Illustrious Assembly in the World, should give credit to so unlikely a Superstition. You must not wonder at it, saith he, unto me: A whole Assembly may have some difference upon a Religious score, which it may be not one of those Persons would do whereof it's composed, were they alone, and Men are very different when they are together, 
Ad Fam. l. 1. Ep. 1.  of what they be when they are single and apart. No body doubts, but this supposed Oracle was contrived on purpose in hatred of Pompey, 
Ad Fam. l. 1. Ep. 1.  who espoused the King's Interests, and whose ambitious deal were alike suspected and known. Besides, it is most certain that the generality of good Men, at that time made no esteem of the Books of the Sibyls. They were much admired indeed at the first beginning of the Commonwealth, when the Roman Ignorance was as great as their Virtue; but since Learning had passed out of Greece into Italy, those kind of Prophecies were not regarded, and the three Books sold by the Sibyl of Cuma at so great a price unto the first of the Tarquin's, having been burnt in the Capitol in the days of Sylla, it not being permitted to have Copies of them, other nice kind of Books, that had been gathered throughout the Empire, to supply their place when the Capitol was rebuilt, not being of the same Authority, little heed was given to them; but let us reassume the Course of our History.  
Ptolemy having observed during his stay at Rome, that the Correspondence betwixt him and Lentulus tended but little to his advantage, because this Proconsul had many Enemies; at his departure from thence he left one Ammonius, an Egyptian, his Ambassador there in his stead, and charged him not to insist upon the order of Senate, that had appointed Lentulus to act in his Re-establishment; moreover judging it necessary, this Commission should be put in the hands of some Person of Authority, and extraordinary Interest and Reputation, seeing it could not be executed by Force, by reason of the Oracles Prohibition; he Ordered his Ambassadors to demand, it should be committed into the hands of Pompey, attended only with two Bailiffs.  
Two Bailiffs, said I, to reduce a whole Kingdom to Obedience; replied Caesarion, the Majesty and Respect at that time born unto the Roman Name throughout the World, may be demonstrated from as improbable things as that; did you never hear, said he, of that great Ambassador sent by the Senate, the Age before that we speak of, unto Antiochus the famous King of Syria? This Prince, having almost subdued the whole Kingdom of Egypt, was going to beseige Alexandria, in which place the Royal Family had taken Sanctuary, being destitute of any other help, but the protection of the Romans.  
Cajus Popilius was the Name of this Ambassador, who meeting this proud King, being an Ally of Rome, four miles from this flourishing City, having saluted him, presented him his Hand in token of Friendship; Popilius made no other answer to his Civility, but presenting him the Senate's Letters bid him read them. Antiochus, having read them, said, he would advise with his Friends in the Case; but Popilius drawing a Circle about the King with a Rod he had in his Hand; before, said he, you pass the Limits of this Circle, give the Senate your Answer.  
The King, being surprised with so resolute a demand, paused a little, and then promised to do what the Senate commanded; whereupon Popilius stretched out his hand, and declared the King, a Friend and Ally of Rome; and Antiochus, quitting all he had conquered, soon after departed out of Egypt by the time prefixed.  
I confess, said I, the two Bailiffs are not so strange as this Adventure, and it had been necessary in this juncture, that this King had resembled one of our Kings, that boasted his Horse carried all his Council, but if you please, let us return unto Pompey.  
The Hopes, replied Caesarion, which Ptolemy had in him, was the more just, because this Illustrious Roman was at that time in the highest pitch of his Glory, by reason of the good success in conquering Mithridates, 
Rex post. Alex. Max. Cic. Luc.  the greatest King that Asia enjoyed, ever since the days of Alexander. Two Tribunes of the People, one called Lupus, the other Caninius, being both devoted unto Pompey, having in public read Letters from Ptolemy, whereby this Prince desired of the Senate, 
Plut. in Pomp.  that Pompey might be entrusted with the power of restoring him to his Kingdom; thereupon grew up amongst the Senators sundry different Opinions.  
Publius' Servilius Isauricus was of opinion not to give him any Assistance at all, and it had been so carried by Plurality of Voices, had not Caninius opposed himself thereto, as his Office of Tribune qualified him.  
Hortensius, Marcus Lucullus, and Cicero maintained, that the former Decree of the Senate ought to be observed in behalf of Lentulus, and that seeing the Oracle permitted him not to re-establish the King by force of Arms, it behoved him to find out some other convenient way of restoring him. Crassus' was of opinion, that Commission should be given to three Ambassadors, which should be indifferently chose out of the Senate. Bibulus, a declared Enemy of Caesar, and by consequence of Pompey his Son in Law, concurred also in the same Opinion, of sending three Ambassadors with Crassus, but excepting all such of the Senate, which bore any other Office, as Pompey and Lentulus did. This Opinion was liked by the new Consuls Marcellus and Philip, and generally by all those that had been Consuls, except Volcatius an intimate friend of Pompey's and Afranius, who had been his Lieutenant against Sertorius, and against Mithridates.  
About this time, his Geatness became suspected unto most of the Senate, especially by reason of his Alliance and Intimacy with Caesar. It was observed a good while, that he always ambitioned the greatest Commands, and that, as soon as ever one Office was expired, he presently grasped after some other, at any rate; so that having put an end to the Civil Wars in Italy, which took beginning presently after the death of Sylla, he procured to be sent into Spain against Sertorius, then soon after against the Pirates; afterwards by his Factions, he caused Lucius Lucullus to be recalled in the midst of his successes against Mithridates, and to be sent himself in his stead, to command the Legions in the East: To conclude, after the Death of this Prince, there being no considerable Wars stirring, he obtained a new Commission, to provide Corn for the speedy relief of the necessities, that Italy was then reduced unto. The Romans thought it no less glorious, to supply the wants of their Country, than it was to expel their Enemies; wherefore, this latter Commission stirred up all the Envy imaginable against him, even those that seemed to be his Friends before, upon this occasion, refused to favour his Design, in re-establishing the King of Egypt, 
Plut. in Pom.  because he had the Commission of providing Corn for five Years, whereas it was against the Laws, that any should Execute two Offices at once.  
Notwithstanding all these oppositions, 
Ad Fam. l. 1. Ep. 1.  Lucius Libo, whose Daughter afterwards Married Pompey's youngest Son, a Tribune named Plautius Hipsaeus, who had been his Quaestor against Mithridates, and generally all his Friends so highly declared for him in this Matter, that no body made any doubt, but that he earnestly desired this Employment, although he declared it not openly himself.  
He had received too many and public favours from Lentulus, to have dared to oppose him openly. It was Lentulus, that procured for him the Power of the Corn business, but this important Service, which had incurred to this Proconsul the hatred of all those which pretended to this Office, did never a whit the more assure him of the Friendship of Pompey, for no thing indeed could assure it. Cicero who knew him better than any Man, and who had the greatest Obligation unto the same Proconsul, for his being released from Banishment, ceased not to importune Pompey, in favour of their common Benefactor; and as this Oraror in this Rancounter, performed the part of a grateful friend; Pompey on his part, thought best to dissemble his Ingratitude, so far as to make a Speech in the Senate-house, 
Pompeius' fremit queritur, sed utrum front an ment dubitatur, l. 1. Ep. 14. Ad Att.  with all the Vigour and seeming Kindness could be, in behalf of Lentulus: But there was very little credit given to it, he was observed to compass his Ends by such obliqne Courses, that there was no trust given * to any thing he either did, or said.  
You give there, said I, interrupting him at these words, a strange Character of the great Pompey, and I could never have thought it, by his Surname and great Reputation. You mean, answered Caesarion, the Pharsalia; but you shall find afterwards, that Lucan has represented him quite different from what he was, and that many times there is no good ground for the greatest Reputations. I confess, answered I, at my turn, if things were as you say, Lentulus deserves to be pitied; for there can nothing be more cruel, than to be abused by a Person, that one has served, and to be exposed to the Malice of Enemies, that one has got by serving his Friend. But I expected however, that Pompey's Enemies would forbear persecuting Lentulus, when they saw he was betrayed by him: You are much deceived, answered Caesarion, this Treason repaired not the micheif don them by Lentulus, in preferring Pompey before them, and their hatred was no way mitigated, on the contrary they used all means possible in protracting the business, because it could not be terminated, but in favour of the Proconsul; for not agreeing to employ Pompey in the business, nor any one else to his prejudice, should a final resolution be taken, they could not avoid confirming the former Act of the Senate, which had nominated Lentulus on the terms the Oracle had prescribed, of settling the King of Egypt otherwise, than by force of Arms.  
In effect, the Opinion of Bibulus of granting a Commission about the the matter in agitation to three Ambassadors, excluding amongst others, Pompey and Lentulus, out of the number, because they were possessed of other Offices, was not insisted upon next day, as it had been till then, and there was only deliberated about those which confirmed Lentulus, and those which proposed Pompey.  
The usual form was that they should first consider that which confirmed Lentulus, because it had been proposed by Consulary Persons; whereas the other had only been proposed by the Tribunes: But Lupus, one of those Tribunes, seeing which way the Senate was inclined, feared, that if they should begin to deliberate upon Lentulus, that he he would be confirmed in spite of his Enemies; to prevent this Danger, and to use his last endeavour in in his friend's behalf, it came into his mind to propose, that it was most expedient, to deliberate of Pompey first.  
Most of the Senators highly rejected this Innovation, but the Consuls did not so, they were ever of the Judgement of Bibulus, equally contrary both unto Lentulus and Pompey. But seeing the cause almost deserted, they sided with those that favoured Pompey, not with intent to confirm him, but with a Design, to hinder Lentulus' friends from confirming him, in spending all the Session as the former had been, in frivolous Disputes. To this purpose they declared, not as the others did, against the Tribunes unaccustomed proceeding, neither did they much regard it; and keeping up the Feud amongst the several Factions, by this dubious proceed instead of composing differences, which they might easily have done by their Authority, they did what they desired, which was, that nothing at all should be done, and so they parted the third time, without coming to any Conclusion.  
The Enemies of Lentulus, for to frustrate his Pretensions, only needed to stave it off to the Sitting following, which was to be the 
* Ad. Fam. l. 1. Ep. 4.  15 of January, because the Senate could not meet all the rest of the Month, for sundry reasons, that time being appointed for giving Audience to Ambassadors, so that no other business was to be heard, until they were dispatched. The last day therefore of this Session, Curion the Father, who had not hitherto appeared in the Matter, spoke smartly, both against Pompey, and against Lentulus. And although Bibulus had almost declined the Opinion, which he at first gave, of joining with the friends of Lentulüs against Pompey, Pompey's party grew so insolent, and took such Liberty in speaking, that every one spoke and concluded what they listed; so that this Sitting also was as fruitlessly spent, as the others had been before.  
Yet although the pretensions of Lentulus were still delayed by these Artifices; the Tribune Cato, fearing yet that it might succeed, proposed to the People about the beginning of February, to discharge him of his Government of Cilicia. His Son, as the manner was in the like cases, went into mourning to solicit for his Father, and his friends used all manner of Endeavours in his behalf. It was strictly prohibited, to treat with the People about any business whatsoever, on the Days wherein the flight of Birds was observed; and all Magistrates having the privilege to observe them when they pleased, Lentulus' friends made use of this Artifice, to hinder the People from deliberating of Cato's Proposition against him. A little while after, another Tribune, called Lucius Racilius, who was his Friend, removed this obstacle by interposing his Authority, after the usual form, according to the privilege of his Office. For when a Tribune opposed himself unto what the rest had proposed, they could not proceed any farther without the concurrence of the People, which was difficult and rare to be seen.  
During these Transactions, Pompey making a Speech to the People about another business, instead of receiving thanks and commendations, he was scoffed and reviled; amongst other things he was taxed, for starving the People for want of Corn, their indignation proceeded so far, that they accused him of the most horrible Crimes, but especially, they jeered him publicly, at his design of restoring the King of Egypt.  
The Tribune Cato some time after, in the Senate, pressed him so hard, and was so favourably heard by the whole Assembly, that Pompey, how close soever he carried it, could not at least conceal his trouble and grief. These two misfortunes, having plainly discovered unto him, the Envy which all the World bore him, made him wholly lay aside all farther thoughts of the business of Egypt: And some time after, Lentulus writing to him in such a way, as if he believed, he never had thoughts of seeking after it; he was so pleased with the Letter, that he forthwith embraced Cicero's opinion of the thing, in wishing it to their Common friend.  
I perceive then, said I, it was not Pompey alone, that knew how to dissemble in those days, and Lentulus knew how to do it as well as him. It is not a thing to be blamed, replied Caesarion, to wink at the failing of our friends, when this Connivance may recall them to their Duty; on the contrary there's nothing more manly and generous, and that was the case, as you see, of Lentulus. But to dissemble as Pompey did, by his evil designs against his friend, and to leave no means unattempted to effect them, is the basest of all treacheries.  
But what expectation, replied I, could Cicero have for Lentulus, and what could this Proconsul do, without employing open Force against a great Kingdom, where the fame of the Oracle had been spread, which enjoined, that it should not be attaqu'd by open Force: You are not very deep sighted, answered Caesarion. The Oracle only prohibited furnishing the King with an Army to re-establish him: Can not Lentulus have left the King, as 'twere incognito, in some place near the Borders, and in the mean time with a good Army, go beseige Alexandria? then when he had taken it, leaving good Garrisons behind him, come back and send the King into his Kingdom, who should find all places ready to receive him? and were not this, said I, to re-establish him by force of Arms, against the Prohibition made by the Sibyl; not at all, replied Caesarion, for in the time Lentulus subdued the Egyptians, the King was not with him; and when the King was returned, there was no Army, and so it could not be said that he had an Army given him, to restore him to his Country. You jeer, said I, to reason after this manner, as if it were not all one, that Ptolemy had been with Lentulus, or had not been with him, seeing the Proconsul subdued Egypt by force. You are dull of Apprehension, replied Caesarion, but if you will not believe me, it may be you will give more credit to Pompey and Cicero. Hearken then to the very words of this Orator, writing to Lentulus, as well in his own Name, as in Pompey's: It is for you to judge what you can undertake, being Master of Cilicia and Cyprus, and if you conceive it feasible, to take Alexandria and the rest of Egypt, doubtless it is for your Credit and for the Republics, that you should hasten thither, with your Fleet and Army, leaving the King at Ptolomais, or some other adjacent place, to the end, that when you have appeased the Rebellion, and placed good Garrisons every where, the King might return thither. In this manner you will re-establish him, as the Senate at first appointed you, and he will be restored without Force, as our Zealots affirm, the Sibyl appointed it should be done.  
Sic have to, me, cum illo re saepe communicata, de illius ad te sententia, & autoritate scribere; Te posse perscribere, qui Ciliciam Cyprumque tenes, quid officere, & quid consequi possis, & si res facultatem habitura videatur, ut Alexandriam atque Aegyptum tenere possis, esse & tui, & nostri Imperii dignitatis, Ptolemaide, aut aliquo propinquo loco, Rege collocato, te cum classe atque exercitu proficisci Alexandriam, ut cum illam pace praesidiisque firmaris, Ptolomaeus redeat in regnum. Ita fore ut per te restituatur, quemadmodum initio Senatus censuit, & sine multitudine reducatur, quemadmodum homines religiosi Sibyllae placere dixerunt. Ad Famil, l. 1. Ep. 7.  
You see by this, continued Caesarion, making a little pause, the truth of what I told you at first, that in the main, the Sybil's Books were not much valued: For Cicero adds in plain Terms, that how strange soever, the advice, he gives to Lentulus, does appear, all the World should judge of it by the Success; so that he should only be careful to take his measures so well as to be sure not to fail in his Design; and if he did not, he had as good do nothing at all.  
I freely confess, that I should never have thought of such a cunning piece of Policy, replied I, being able not to contain any longer, and I see thereby, Heaven may be compounded with at any time.  
But pray, let me know if this Project succeeded. Lentulus, replied Caesarion, did not think himself strong enough to follow this Counsel, and the Troops, which he could privately have furnished Ptolemy withal, appeared not sufficient unto this Prince, to restore him without the Presence of the Proconsul.  
But there was another which commanded at the same time in Syria, who was not altogether so scrupulous. It was Aulus Gabinius, one tutoured by Catiline, of whom he had been tenderly beloved in his Youth, and his Actions did not derogate from his Education. He was esteemed a great Dancer, 
Dion. l. 39 Strab. l. P7. ad Catilinam amatorem suum Ejus vir Catilina, l. 3. c. 14.  as Ptolemy was a Player upon the Flute; he rifled his own Province worse than the Banditty or wild Arabians would have done, had they had their Will. But especially he exercised his Cruelty against all sorts of Publicans, out of Envy against the Order of Knights they were of, who had in an eminent manner defended Cicero against him; for it was under his Consulship, and especially by his Authority that this Orator was condemned to to Banishment.  
Ex eventu homines de tuo consilio existimaturos; si exploratum tibi sit, non cunctandum; sin dubium, non conandum, ibid.  
His proceed had rendered him so odious at Rome, that having according to Custom given the Senate advice of a War, 
De Provin. Consular in Pisonem ad. Q.F. l, 2. Ep. 7.  that he had begun and brought to a happy Conclusion against the Kings of Judea, his Letters were slighted, and little or no notice taken of them, which had never been done before unto any else besides, neither would the Senate vouchsafe to thank the Gods in his Name. But he grew never the wiser nor better for this disgrace. There being no more to be got in Syria, which he had utterly ruined by his Oppressions, he designed a War against the Arabians, when Mithridates' Prince of the Parthians came to crave his assistance, who was expelled by the King his Brother out of Media, which had been assigned unto him for his Portion. Although it was strictly prohibited by Law, that no Proconsul should go out of his Province, nor undertake, or declare any War whatsoever, without the Senate's express Order, yet Gabinius made no Scruple of engaging in this Quarrel, in hope of making advantage of the great Riches of these two Princes, by their mutual animosities. He had already passed Euphrates with his Army, to this purpose, when Ptolemy met him with Letters from Pompey, the Friend and Protector of them both, who was then newly declared Consul for the ensuing Year, by which Letters, he conjured Gabinius to hearken to the Proposals this Prince should make him, concerning his re-establishment in his Kingdom.  
Whether it was out of regard to the Sibyl's Oracle, or that the Parthian War seemed less difficult and more profitable, than that of Egypt, most of the chiefest Men about Gabinius declared themselves against Ptolemy, Antonius only excepted, who though very Young, 
Ap. l. 5. & Plut. in Ant.  commanded the Cavalry, and was afterwards one of the Triumvirs, and an intimate friend of this Prince.  
But the more the business was disliked, the more Gabinius resolved to be courted, and to make his advantage by it. Ptolemy, who resolved to spare no cost, to procure his consent, offered for the General and the Army, Ten Thousand Talents, which amounts, in our Money, to about Seventeen Millions, the greatest part to be paid in advance, and the rest as soon as he was restored. It was no hard matter for Antonius, to prevail with Gabinius to accept this offer, who thirsted more after it than he himself.  
Egypt was governed by the King's Eldest Daughter, who I told you was Proclaimed Queen, when the King fled away. The Syrian Prince that Married her, proved a very mean and brutish Person. Whether it was his Natural Love to Riches, or that he thought not himself well Established, he resolved to make use of his Time. His first care was, to take the Body of Alexander the Great, out of the Coffin of Massy Gold, which he converted to his own use, having, till then lain quietly therein, and caused it to be put into one of Glass. But this, and several other the like Actions by him done, rendered him equally odious unto the Queen and her Subjects, so that she caused him to be strangled not long after. And the friends of this Princess, seeing the need she had of the Support and Counsel of some Person of eminent Fortune and Merit, against her Father's designs, they made choice of one of the Princes of the greatest Fame in all the East, for her second Husband.  
He was named Archelaus, Son of the great Mithridates, though he was not really, but the Son of his Lieutenant. This Lieutenant, being suspected by his Prince, about his managment of a Treaty with Sylla, thought it his wisest way, in time to change his Party to preserve his life, and joining himself to the Romans, he much enriched himself thereby; and also received the titles of Friend and Allye of Rome. His Son, following his Example, engaged also in the same party, and was made Prince of Comagene by Pompey, in recompense of Service, performed by him. Having contracted an intimate Friendship with Gabinius, in a time when this Proconsul made War in those Provinces, under other Generals, as soon as he came to command in chief in Syria,; this Prince went to him, with a design of attending him in the Parthian War, there to Merit, by his Service, new Favours and Commands under the Romans. But the Senate not approving this design, and the Queen of Egypt soliciting him at the same time, he withdrew himself privately from Gabinius to consummate his Marriage, 
Strab. l. 17.  judging the Romans would hinder it, should they have knowledge of it.  
About six Months after this Marriage, and in the Spring of the year D CX CV III under the Consulship of Pompey and Crassus, Gabinius left his Province to the care of his Son, 
Dion. l. 39 T. liv. 105. Egesip. l. 1. c. 21. Jose. Plut. in Anto.  who was but young and weakly guarded; and with his Army marched through Palestine towards Egypt. He received all the assistance could be desired, from Antipater the Father of Herod the Great, into whose hands he committed the chief Power of those Countries after the Wars, I told you he had in those parts. The greatest difficulty at present was, what course was best to take from thence to the fronteers of Egypt, over great and deep sands, full of Serpents, or by the Fens and Marshes of the Lake Sirbonides, in either of which there was no fresh water to be had: But Antonius marching before with the Cavalry, had so well prepared the way for the rest of the Army, that it all arrived safely at Pelusium.  
It was a large, strong and populous Seaport Town, which was, as may be said, the Key of the whole Kingdom, and the only convenient Haven near the Sea: But it being chiefly inhabited and defended by Jews, whose neighbourhood, together with the conveniency of Traffic, invited them thither; it was no difficult matter for Antipater, by the familiarity and commerce he had with them, to persuade them, to deliver the City to the Romans: Ptolemy being transported with Joy at so happy a beginning, also with rage against the Egyptians, would have put all that were in the City to the Sword, but that Antonius dissuaded him from it: The Army, being divided into two Battalions, soon after marched forwards, and meeting that of Egypt commanded by Archelaus, fought and took Archelaus prisoner, and defeated his Army. Gabinius might soon have put an end to this War, in carefully keeping this Prince, in whom the Queen and the Egyptians put their whole confidence. But he thought, that if he should so soon settle Ptolemy and with so little labour, this Prince would use some pretext of breaking his word, and not pay the Money according to his promise: He therefore thought it better, to get as great a Ransom as he could by his Prisoner, and to give him opportunities of making his escape, in consideration of their former friendship.  
Afterwards he caused his Fleet to sail up the River, where they met the Egyptian Fleet, which was also worsted, and then he marched directly to Alexandria, with his Land-forces. Archelaus, being retired thither, marched forth with his Army to give him Battle. 
Valeria, Max. l. 8. c. 1.  When he encamped and would entrench himself, the Egyptians cried out, that he should get Mercenaries to work at the public charge, if he would; you may easily guests what resistance such Soldiers would make. Archelaus, who in all likelihood acquitted himself better than his Soldiers, 
Dio. l. 1. P. 58. Caesar. l. 3. of Sivil War. T. lib. 6. 150. Strab. l. 12, 17, in Pison. Dion. l. 39 ad. Att. l. 4. Ep. 9 Por. in Easub. Ege. l. 1. c. 2.  caused himself [seeing all was lost) to be killed: Antonius having contracted friendship with this Unfortunate Prince, whilst he was with Gabinius, caused his Body to be found out amongst the Slain, and to be Royally Interred.  
Gabinius placed very strong Garrisons of Gauls and Germans in Alexandria, under Roman Commanders. Ptolemy being thus restor, d to his Kingdom, caused the Queen, his daughter to be Slain, and also the chiefest Men of the Kingdom, under pretext that they favoured the Revolt, but it was truly to seize their Goods to satisfy Gabinius: The Egyptians suffered all these Oppressions without Murmuring. But a few days after, a Roman Soldier, for killing a Cat by accident, was by the common People cut in pieces on the place, for the violation done to the Country Gods, the authority of Ptolemy nor Gabinius not being able to restrain them.  
Behold, said I, at these words, seeing Caesarion make a pause, a very strange story from first to last, and a strangely various destiny, of this Unfortunate King.  
But pray let me know, if you please, if any thing else of Remark befell him afterwards; there is nothing else known, replied Caesarion, but that a decayed Knight of Rome, called * caius Rabirius Posthumus, 
Pro Rabirio, Postumo.  who had furnished or procured for him, several great sums of Money at Rome, when he was fully restored to his Kingdom, went to demand payment. This Prince told him, he feared he should never be able to satisfy him, unless he would take the care and charge of his Revenues, by which means, he might by degrees reimburse himself. But this Unfortunate Creditor, having accepted the offer for fear of losing his Debt: The King soon after found a pretext to commit him Prisoner, although he was one of the Ancientest, and best of Caesar's friends; and that Pompey was also in a manner Caution for the Debt; the Money being lent in his presence, and the Obligations passed by his request, at a Countryhouse of his Near Alba.  
But Rabirius had the good Fortune, not long after of escaping out of Prison, recovering out of Egypt more miserable than he went thither; and to complete this Misery, at his return to Rome, 
Suet. in Claud. c. 16.  * he was judicially accused, to have assisted Ptolemy, to corrupt the Senate, by the Sums of Money which he had lent him to this purpose, that he had forfeited his Honour of Knighthood, by the Employment he had taken upon him in Egypt, and that he had corresponded and shared with Gabinius, in the Money that had been given him. The admirable discourse Cicero made in his defence, and which we have yet remaining, is an Eternal Monument, of the ingratitude and perfidiousness of this unworthy King; he died in the peaceable possession of Egypt, soon after this wicked Action, and about four Years after his Restauration: An Authentical Copy of his last Will was brought to Rome, to be deposited in the public Treasury, having made the People of Rome his Executors, he conjrued the Senate, in the name of all their Gods. (Caution of their Alliance) to favour the disposal, which he made of his Kingdom to Ptolemy his eldest Son, who was afterwards surnamed Dennis, and to Cleopatra his eldest Daughter, whom he also enjoined to Marry together, according to the custom o● that Country. It is also found, that Pompey was appointed Guardian to the young King by the People, who caused him to be so basely Murdered four Years after. This is in few words, said Caesarion, what we find upon Record, of the Life and Actions of this King, Player on Flutes.  
For a Fiddler, said I, I think he was no fool. It seems to me, all things considered, that he could not do better in his ill Fortune, and that he knew to be Cruel, Prodigal, and Patient, for his own ends, as occasion required. But especially I commend him, for engaging Gabinius in his Restoration, and were I not loath to be too troublesome to you, I would desire to be informed, what happened to Gabinius afterwards: There happened, replied Caesarion, nothing but what must needs come to pass. 
Dion. l. 39 Ad Att l. 4. Ep. 16.  The Pirates taking occasion of his absence, overrun and wasted all his Government, without any resistance; and the Publicans of the Neighbour Provinces, being able no better than those of Syria, by reason of the multitude of Robbers, not to convey the Money by land-carriage, which they were obliged to pay to the public Treasury at the time prefixed, they were forced to take up Money at Rome, at excessive Interest, to do it, to their great Damage.  
The first News that was in Italy of Ptolomy's Restauration, being brought to the Waters at Pouzzol, whither Recreation as well as Health invited much good company to refort, it passed no sooner from thence to Rome, but all the several sorts of complaints and greivances, which were to be preferred against Gabinius, were, by the parties interested, dispersed about amongst the People; so that it was resolved, to inflict severe Punishments upon this Proconsul, at his return to Rome. The Fathers of the Senate were the forwardest in moving the Magistrates, to be informed of his Crimes, and there was nothing less than Death intended for him. He had not given the Senate advice of his expedition into Egypt, concluding it would be worse censured, than was that of Judea; and the Consul Crassus, who was to succeed him in Syria, having sent one of his Leivtenants, to take possession of the Government in his name, Gabinius, to complete his insolency, refused to resign although his time was expired.  
But how great soever this affront was to Crassus, having a greater love for Money than Honour, Gabinius would have soon appeased him; in so much that Cicero sometime after made a motion in the Senate, to publish again the Oracle of the Sibyls, the more to exasperate men's minds; but Crassus opposed himself thereunto, as much as Pompey, and both of them were so displeased at Cicero, that they reviled him with his banishment. You may imagine how this Orator answered them, seeing he desired no better Subject to insist upon, and that his reproach rather animated than discouraged him. To conclude, their Consulship ending soon after, he caused the business to be brought under deliberation.  
The new Consuls, Domitius and Appius, were not devoted unto Gabinus, as were the former; Domitius being promoted unto the Dignity in spite of Pompey, was upon this score his Enemy. Appius was his Ally, but he affected Popularity; and being moreover very Covetous, he was for compelling Gabinius to purchase his Protection: So it was agreed by common Consent, that the Oracle should be again published.  
Although Gabinius had been removed from his Government, from the beginning of the Year DCXCIX. by Crassus himself, who went the end of the precedent Year to take possession of it, yet he made no haste in coming to Rome, he would let the People's anger towards him to abate, and give time to his Friends to gain and corrupt his Judges and Accusers, by the vast Sums of Money he had sent before him to that purpose; but hearing that his delay rather exasperated men's minds against him than not, and that the Tribunes, displeased with his Stratagems, resolved to proceed to his Condemnation in his absence; at last he set forwards, and on the way gave out that he was going to Rome, to demand a public Triumph of the Senate for his two Expeditions into Judea and Egypt.  
And in effect, being arrived near Rome the 19 of September, he entered not into the City to rights, but stayed some Miles off, as the Generals were wont to do, that pretended unto the Triumph, which was no sooner known, but he was accused of three several Crimes, in the usual form of Justice. First against the State, for restoring the King of Egypt. 
As. in Pison ad Q. F. l. 3. Ep. 1.2. & 3.  Next of Interest, for the great Oppressions committed by him in Syria. And Lastly, For buying of voices, when he was made Consul 5 Years before.  
These Accusations, having soon made him relinquish the pretention of a Triumph, he came to Rome to defend himself the 27 of September, privately in the night time; and in the poorest Equipage, that ever Proconsul did. Next day he appeared, as he was assigned before the Praetor, who was to be the Chief Judge as to the Crime of State, he was a Person of known Worth and Integrity. Ten days after, he appeared before the Senate, to give an account of his Government; but intending to go out after he had done it in a slight manner, he was stayed by the Consuls, and at the same time the Publicans of Syria were called into the Senate, that he might answer their Complaints. Cicero speaking in their behalf, Gabinius defended himself by calling him Exile, with a low voice. But the whole Senate at this word rising up as 'twere with one accord, imposed silence on him, the Publicans testified no less displeasure, and the Consul Appius, having also declared himself an Accuser, named the Witnesses and Accessories of Gabinius' Crimes, so that he could not answer a word.  
Four days after he presented himself before the People, the concourse was so great, and the first resentment of his horrible Crimes so odious, that he had like to be stifled or torn to pieces. Especially a Tribune of the People, Cajus Memmius accused him with so much vehemency, and to so general a liking, that he could not avoid being condemned to Death, or atl east to perpetual Imprisonment, but that his Son, whom I mentioned to you before, being there present, supplicated Memmius to have compassion of him: But this Tribune transported with Pride, at the good success of his enterprise, let the unfortunate Son lie at his feet, 
Valer. Max. l. 8. c. 1.  without taking the least notice of him: The People being moved with some tenderness at such a dutiful Object, the favourableness of the conjuncture gave courage to another Tribune, which he dared not do before, also being gained by Gabinius, to spoke in his behalf, and made the Officer free him, that had already seized on his Body.  
The People not desiring to prevent the ordinary Judges in this Cause, as they were wont sometimes to do; it was sometime after debated before them, and the Assembly was no less before the Praetor's Tribunal, than it had been in the public place: They were to the number of Seventy, chosen partly out of the Senate, partly out of the order of Knights, and of the Tribunes of the Treasury. There were several accusers; but he that spoke in the behalf of the rest, performed it so coldly, that every body suspected he was corrupted by Gabinius, as also the Judges that favoured him. Pompey neglected no opportunity of serving him; he used all his endeavours to reconcile him to Cicero, and even to oblige this Orator, to plead his cause, but to no purpose, and Cicero could not dispense himself, from Witnessing against him.  
It was urged in his behalf, that it was the interest of the Commonwealth, to expel Archelaus out of Egypt; whose Fleet hindered the Navigation and Commerce of Rome, and the adjacent Seas, and gave all sorts of assistance to Pirates, who exercised all manner of Cruelties upon the Subjects of the Republic. It was also alleged, this expedition was permitted unto Gabinius, by a Law whereof we have no Record; that at the worst, the Oracle did not relate the present business, and that the matter happened long before, in the Person of a former King of Egypt, whereof I made mention, who had also been expelled out of his Kingdom, and prayed assistance of the Senat. But if the Oracle meant his Successor, 
Dion. l. 39 Ad Att. l. 4. Ep. 16. l. 3. Ep. 4.  the Sibyl not having expressed what Punishment they deserved, that should restore this Prince, by force of Arms against its Prohibition, no body hath right to determine it.  
But with all these Evasions Gabinius durst not have contested, were it not for a rumour spread abroad, that Pompey was to be made Dictator: This Report was not without some colour. The Election of Consuls being usual about the beginning of August, was deferred until towards the end of October, by several slights and interests, that nothing regarded the affairs of Gabinius; and these hindrances not being likely to remove of themselves, it was believed recourse must be had to the means used at all times formerly in the like occasions, which was to create a Dictator, whose unlimited power, was only able to reduce all persons to their Duty.  
You may easily believe on this occasion, no body could more justly pretend to it than Pompey, although it's true, the Tribunes did not propose it in due form, but several Months after. 
Dion. l. 40.  The Rumour that was spread abroad of it before hand, served to intimidate the Judges, the greater part whereof were Persons much inferior to him; and it was something strange, that there were found, in this Conjuncture thirty-two, that had the honesty and courage to condemn Gabinius, against Thirty-eight that declared him Innocent. 
Ad Att. l. 4. Ep. 16. l. 8. Ep. 14.  Domitius Calvinius amongst others, (through a partial Ostentation, the like whereof was never seen,) acquitted the Criminal by open voice, whereas he should have given his Judgement by Scrutiny, as others did. Another risen off the Bench, in sight of all the People, before the Session was ended, as soon as ever the Voices were taken, to be the first carrier of the News to Pompey.  
See here, said I, at these words, a happy Villian. Don't make too much haste, said Caesarion, and stay till the end, seeing you desire to know all. It wanted not much, but that the People had tore all the Judges to pieces, at the first motion of their Rage. One of Gabinius' freemen, that bore some command under him in Syria, being accused as one of his Accessaries, bore also the Punishment: This Wretch's business was heard an hour after, before other Judges, he was condemned with the greater severity, for Rage, that his Master had been accquitted and discharged.  
Dureing these Transactions the River Tiber overflowed its banks on a sudden, with so great violence, 
Dion. l. 39  that it overthrew many Houses and swept away many Persons, as well at Rome, as in the adjacent parts. The People supposed there was something extraordinary in this Accident, and looked upon it, as a Judgement from Heaven upon them, for Gabinius and his Judges, having slighted the Orracle of the Sibyls. I told you, he stood accused, for three several Crimes: Being therefore accquitted for that against the State, he was prosecuted for his Extortions, by the same Tribune Memmius, which had so sharply prosecuted him before the People; by Tiberius Nero, Father of the Emperor of that name; and by Cajus and Lucius, Brothers to the same Antonius, that was afterwards Tryumvir, and that commanded his Cavalry. The great Cato (who, I told you had the intervew with Ptolomey at Rhodes) presided in this Judgement in quality of Praetor. He had been indisposed, and for that reason Judgement was deferred, the Judges were also changed, but Gabinius thought himself so fully accquitted, that he took not the pains nor trouble, to gain them.  
Pompey having still the charge of the Corn business, was absent from Rome, repairing the damages made by the Inundation of the River, which had ravadged, destroyed, and spoiled, vast quanteties of Grain, and the most fertile Fields of all Italy. But receiving advice of the danger Gabinius was in, he came as near the City as he could, to try to save him once more, and his Office not permitting him to enter into the City, he assembled the People without the Walls, and harrangued them to that effect. He publicly read Letters from Caesar, wherein he recommended Gabinius unto him, with all the affection that could be, and for the last Remedy, he prevailed with Cicero, 
Dion. 39 Valer. Max. l. 4. c. 2.  to plead for him; for which this Orator was surnamed Turncoate to reproach either his weakness, or inconstancy.  
I perceive then, said I, at these words, Pompey was as zealous a Friend, as Cisero was a weak Enemy. Pompey, replied Cesarion, had, as all ambitious Men have, the vulgar Maxim, which almost comprehends the skill of the Politicians of these times; to be a good Friend and a cruel Enemy, without any Judgement in choosing, Friends or Enemies. But neither he nor they, need be obliged, to venture so far for their Friends, if there were none but good Men. It's only for bad Men, that these extraordinary endeavours of Credit and Authority need be used; and how bad a business soever befalls an honest Man, the regular forms are always sufficient, to bring him off. So that this resolvedness, and great zeal, which is shown for defending and protecting vicious Persons, is so far from being Praiseworthy, that nothing is more odious, and detestable; seeing that in effect, it hath only self-interest or Vanity for its Motive; and Injustice for its Scope.  
Beware of Digression, answered I, and pray let me know, if Gabinius was condemned or accquitted, this second time. He was condemned, said Caesarion, to perpetual banishment, and his goods confiscated, notwithstanding the power of Pompey, and Eloquence of Cicero. But Caesar esteeming him one of the best Commanders in Rome, making himself Master of the Republic six Years after, he recalled him out of banishment, and gave him the Command of a little Army in Illyria, 
Caesar de Bell. Allex. App. in Illiric.  where he was routed by the Barbarians of the Country, and being forced to fly to Salonia, he there ended his days, not long after.  
The End of the Second Day.   

CAESARION. The Third Day.  
IF you did not know as well as I, that Nature had endowed your Friend, with two of the most incomparable Talents in the World, I mean, a prodigious Memory, and an excellent Judgement; you would scarce believe, that he recited to me extempore, the Histories that I have related to you. Although I had heard much of his great Accomplishments, yet I was not a little surprised, for he looked not passed three or four times, on his Books and Papers, to make so long a Narration, and he had all he said, as ready in his mind, as if he related to me his own particular concerns. I was only desirous to be satisfied, where 'twas, that he read and found so many considerable things, as he mentioned to me, and which I do not remember, to have Read in the Greek nor Roman Historians, which wrote of those Times. His demeanour in all things, were very modest and obliging: meeting him the next day, as I walked upon a Terrace that fronted his House towards the Valley, I could not forbear ask him, and he soon answered me, putting a Book into my hand, that he was Reading, as if he should say, that 'twas from thence he collected all, that I thought he had invented in his own Brain. I opened the Book very hastily, but my curiosity was not much satisfied, when I saw it was nothing but Cicero's Epistles.  
As the Reading of those Epistles at the University, made no great impression on my mind, so I was the more surprised at what I saw; he began to laugh at my astonishment, and said unto me, that I should not be troubled, that it was not me he blamed but my Tutors, because it was their fault more than mine, if I had not relished the sweetness of the most precious remains of Antiquity. That he had often admired in himself, how those Doctors could pretend to know, the nice and finest things in the World, when they did not understand them, and that I should be no less surprised, if I would but Read over those Letters with him, that had been so irksome to me heretofore. You may well believe, I took him at his word. Having therefore opened the first Book of those to Atticus, he Read out two or three of them, which treated of the same Matter, and as I intimated to him, the great desire I had to hear him on this Subject, he delayed sattisfying me no longer, but till such time, as we retired into the Closet, where he so pleasantly entertained me, the Day before.  
What delights me most of all, said he, of the practice of the Ancients, is the regularity of their Friendship, it is the only thing wherein they most of all Excel us, and wherein we least strive to equal them. On the contrary, should any one at this time practise this regularity, he would be esteemed Ridiculous; the best of his friends would admire him, for the infinite advantages, of being beloved after this manner, whilst others would impudently deride it. But all in general would look upon him as a friendly Tyrant, if he expected they should be as regular towards him, as he is punctual to them.  
It was not so that Men lived in Greece, in the days of Zenophon, this Regularity so little practised amongst us, was then looked upon as an indispensable Duty: All aspired unto it, as a quality absolutely necessary for every body to have; they boasted of it, as of the most shining Virtues. They Died, said this Illustrious Athenian, making the Elegy of the Greek Captains his companions, that had been perfidiously Massacred by the Treacherous Persians. 
Zen. Ret. of 10. m. l. 2.  They died, having lived without reproach, either in War or Friendship. Who in our times, dare use the like commendations, in the Funeral Solemnities of our Generals?  
There seems to be as much Heat and Vigour in Friendship now a days, as there was formerly, but there is not so much Tenderness. It has produced in our days, Actions of as great Fidelity, Liberality, and Courage as ever; but I question, if there can be found, so many instances of Gentleness and Patience, so frequently seen amongst the Ancients, for the sorrows, and even the unjust reproaches of their Friends? for the modest complacency, which they showed for the boundless Passions, of them whom they loved, and to conclude, the same punctuality, the same regard, and the same concernedness, for all that regards our Friends, as we would, that they should have for Us.  
It may be, replied I, it is not because we Love less than they did formerly, but only we have less Knowledge and Judgement. You need only, said Caesarion, but compare the Lovers of our times, with the Friends, to discern the Invalidness of your Answer. Lovers, do they not daily do for their Mistresses, that which true Friendship should do for his Friend? Have they not for them all the Care, Diligence, and Respect that can be desired? A Soul truly touched with a lively Sympathy, never wants Motives to follow its Inclinations; there is common Effects of this seen in vulgar Persons. They seem to be inspired with some new Genius, when they begin to be in Love, they appear Witty beyond their Natural Endowments, especially in what regards their Passion. What Love Operates in mean Souls, not Friendship do much more, in Persons of a Nobler make, if it be Sincere? If it does not at all times discharge its Function, may it not well be concluded that 'tis not Sincere, and that 'tis kept up in the occasions wherein it Opperates, by some other Motive, to which it only lends its Name.  
But now 'tis high time to tell you, wherefore I took occasion to make those reflections; Atticus having been Arbitrat in a certain Business, of a Friend both of his and Cicero's, this Friend was not very well pleased with the Judgement made by Atticus, in the matter. And by what follows, it seems he had no great cause to be sattisfyed. For Atticus going into Greece a little after, he wrote to Cicero upon this Subject in these Terms, as soon as he was arrived at Athens. If any body be displeased with me, it is your part to appease them. It was needless, answered Cicero, that you should bid me do it, for I endeavoured it before; this party is very much offended at you, I omitted nothing that could be said on this subject, but I did not think it convenient to press him any farther, until I knew your mind, whether you desire it or not?  
Quod scribis, etiam si cujus animus in te esset offensior, a me recolligi oportere. Quid dicas? Neque id neglexi. Sed est miro quodam modo affectus Ego autem quae dicenda fuerunt de te non preterii. Quid autem contendendem esset, ex tua putabam voluntate statuere oportere Ad Atticum. l. 1. Fp. 5.  
You will grant that any body else besides Gicero, would not have stayed for a new Order, and would have thought themselves sufficiently empowered, by what Atticus had writ, to deal with their common Friend, perhaps more than Atticus would have desired. This daily falls out, because most Men rather aspire after Commendation, than to serve those well that do Employ them, in concerning themselves only so far as they have a mind; nothing is more dangerous, than to seek this kind of of Servise of ones Friend, for most do more than they are desired, and which is worst of all, one dares not complain, for fear of being blamed by the World, because of their pretended good meaning, which in my Judgement, is the most frivolous excuse in the World. For every body easily perceives, when they pass the bounds of their commission, and one questions in passing it, if what we do, will be well resented or not? and in this respect, it is a kind of perfidiousness to do it. Because one runs a Risque of disobliging a Friend, in seeming to go about to serve him. 
Quam si ad me per scripseris intelliges, me neque diligentiorem esses, voluisse quam tu esses neque negligentiorem fore quam tu velis. Ille noster amicus sane tibi iratus est. Hoc si quanti tu estimes, sciam tum quid mihi elaborarndum sit scire possim. 7.   
Cicero was too brave a Person, to fall into such an Error. If you writ unto me, continueth he, how far I shall proceed you, shall find, that I will not be more hasty in accommodating you than you desire, nor more backward than you would have me be. And in another Letter writ a little after, not having received answer unto the former. * Our Friend, saith he, again, is very angry with with you; if you let me know how much you care for it, I can tell what means to use to appease him.  
He knew very well, that how specious soever the pretext of Reconciling Friends is, yet he ought not to pass the intention of him, that Engaged him in the business, and desired the accommodation, on such and such Terms, but not on any Terms whatsoever. He had not the Ambition so common amongst us, to pretend to impose upon his Friends, in what they liked or liked not, but rested satisfied to reconcile them. Most Men do now a days advance themselves into Pedagogues, and affect a higher degree of Wisdom and Knowledge, which is the greatest Bane of true Friendship.  
How many be there, that Act in a Business according to the mind of him that Employ them, when nevertheless, they think they ought to Act quite contrary? It were something, if in this Consideration they would desire wholly to be excused, but there's very few, that Act with such freedom. On the contrary, either to be thought not to forsake their Friends in their necessity, or that they fear the business being done by others, it may have success contrary to their advice, the most part continue to interpose, even when they are not desired, and pretending to govern themselves as they were entrusted, which yet they approve not off, they endeavour what they can under hand, to let the business fall, thereby the better to Justify their own Sentiments. And if it be discovered that they have Acted contrary to directions, and to what they promised, they never want Reasons to show, that one should approve of their Conduct; but this is not much to the purpose: Or if they do not the quite contrary, of what they were desired, they satisfy themselves barely, with acting only so far, as that it might be said, that they employed themselves in the business, and how ill soever they acted, they think themselves discharged in saying, that one can never mind every thing, or that they thought they did all for the better.  
True Friendship is never reduced to such a nonplus, it is a continual Spring of Industry, it can do nothing by halves, and it holds that for ill done, which might be better done, but more especially it appears admirable in business, wherein Honour and Interest are concerned, not to explain it any farther. Nothing is easier, then to make him pass by what one has no Mind to discover, and although one expose not themselves by declaring one's Mind, he is not at all displeased at it, and he acts no less Diligence, than if one had fully and freely committed ones self to his discretion. Besides, he is not satisfied with himself, no farther than he satisfy's those for whom he acts: he cannot admit of any other Interest in what he does, but that of his Friend; he neglects himself the better and more perfectly to understand his Friend's Design and Passion. Therefore it falls out, that many times he knows better than they, what they would, and what they would not have done, he unridles their opposite thoughts wherewith they are most agitated, and discerns sometimes better than they do, what they most desire, and what at last shall be most predominant.  
False Friendship, on the contrary, is always dissatisfied with the manner that 'tis employed, it is always selfconceited; it never fails of making some private Interest in the business wherein it is employed, how little soever it regards him; it has always some private End, that it dares not own; It holds with the Letter when it should with the Sense, and commonly seeks some contrary meaning, when 'tis necessary to keep to the Literal Sense. Besides it has ever either ill Read or ill Herd, and things are never plainly enough expressed.  
One cannot, said I, ramble more pleasantly than you do, for we have almost lost sight of Atticus; and to say the truth, I would willingly hear farther of him. Cicero, repyed Caesarion, received Letters from him, soon after the Letter I formerly mentioned, and he replied to him in these Terms. I promise you to pacify our Friend, and it may be engage him also, to be wholly yours. I endeavoured it before of my own accord, but now I perceive by your Letter, that you earnestly desire it, I will employ myself more diligently therein, and will press him more earnestly than I did. You need not doubt but he is highly displeased with you, but as I know that he has no great reason for it, I dare undertake to pacify and to dispose him as I list.  
Tibi de nostro amico placando, aut etiam plane restituendo polliceor. Quod ego, etsi mea sponte ante faciebam, eo nunc tamen, & agam studiosius, & contendam ab illo vehementius, quod tamen ex Epistola voluntatem ejus rei tuam perspicere videor. Hoc te intelligere volo, pergraviter illum esse offensum. Sed quia nullam video gravem subesse causam, magnopere confido illum fore in officio, & in nostra potestate. l. 1. Ep. 1. ad Atticum.  
You may see what were Cicero's hopes, but he was mistaken, and you need not be surprised at it, for there's no body but may be mistaken, if they do not fully know the ground and bottom of a Business, and one is only bound to judge aright of what one is informed; after having used all endeavours, says he to Atticus, very far from settling you in his thoughts as you had been before, I could not so much as gather from him, the cause of his Strangeness. For whatsoever he says of your Arbitration, and of the other things, I knew before wherewith he was dissatisfied at your departure, there is something else he sticks at more than all that; the which neither your Letters, nor my Mediation cannot reconcile, as well as you may do yourself at your return hither, not only by Conversation, but also by your Obliging ways, that is, if you think it worth your while. And do not think strange, that I dare not promise any Kindness from him, having intimated to you in my last, that I used all my endeavours. You cannot believe, how much stranger he appears to me than formerly, and persists more in his Obstinacy.  
Cum omnia fecissem, non modo eam voluntatem ejus, quae fuerat erga te, recuperare non potui, verum ne causam quidem elicere immutatae voluntatis. Tametsi jactat ille quidem illud suum arbitrium, & ea quae jam tum cum aderas offendere ejus animum intelligebam. Tamen habet quiddam profecto quod magis in animo ejus insederit, quod neque Epistolae tuae, neque nostra Allegatio tam potest facile delere, quam tu praesens, non modo oratione, sed illo tuo vultu familiari, tolles, si modo tanti putabis, id quod si me audies, & si humanitati tuae constare voles certe putabis. Ac ne illud mirere cum ego antea significarem tibi per literas, me sperare eum in nostra protestate fore, nunc idem videar diffidere. Incredibile est, quantum mihi videatur illius voluntas obstinatior, & in hac iracundia obfirmatior. 10.  
You see by this, that Cicero's moderation was very discreet, and you perceive that his Friend being irreconcilable, Atticus it may be would not have gone any farther to have pacified him, and therefore would have had just cause to blame Cicero, had Cicero done it without his express Order.  
But wherefore would not this Man, replied I at these words, declare his greatest Cause of displeasure against Atticus? You must not, answered Caesarion, wonder at that; the most Sincere and the most Sensible are they which say least; because they are Clear, Constant, and Free from making feigned or frivolous Excuses. Now to what purpose is it to discover a thing, where there is not a Salve or Remedy for it.  
Moreover the greatness of an injury is never well known, but by him that gave it, and by him that received it, forasmuch as it depends on the Circumstance, wherein the party offended was, when he received it; to know to what degree he was concerned, and how far the Offender knew his Sensibility. And from hence it happens, that the most cruel Injuries be those, that sometimes seem the least, to those that have not received them.  
Besides, there be things that cannot be fully explained without Publishing others, which it were better to hid and conceal. Therefore, those, which have committed such Extravagancies, do so often dare those to Publish them, to whom they have done them, knowing very well the Parties offended will rather endeavour to Conceal them if they be Wise, but if they be so imprudent to discover themselves, they are soon punished by their own Folly, by gratifying others, in declaring what they have suffered; this pleasure is so great and pleasing to corrupt Minds, that instead of being ashamed to publish their wickedness, they glory in it, and do manifest, that this very declaring of it is the accomplishing the Triumph of their Spleen and Malice.  
Nevertheless, answered I, there's nothing more generally blamed, than this unwillingness, of owning the displeasure, one harbours against our Enemy. You see however, replied Caesarion, that at certain times, there's nothing more just and prudent, than this kind of Obstinateness.  
What Cicero adds afterwards, 
Sed haec aut sanabuntur cum veneris, aut ei molesta erunt, in utro culpa erit. ibid.  continues he, will more surprise you. But, concludes he, either you will compose these matters when you arrive here, or which ever of you both are in the wrong, it will far the worse with him.  
This Discourse which seems so unreasonable, was the very Truth itself. The Reputation of Atticus' Wisdom and Probity was so well settled, that no body in Rome would scarce have questioned it, although his proceed, at all times, were not the fairest.  
He was one of those kind of Sparks, that was neither Eminent by Birth, nor by Office, nor by any extraordinary Parts, but made himself be talked of by an affected way of Living, and of being admitted into Great men's company, who, for the most part, are not the hardest to be deceived. For which purpose, it is enough to have store of Wealth, and a great deal of Wit; to be born with a temper incapable of violent Passions, neither good nor bad, and with a great stock of indifferency for Truth and Justice, that can see these divine Virtues violated, and be able to violate them, when 'tis for ones Interest. It is requisite, to be naturally neither a Deceiver nor Unjust, that one should, in most occasions, practise these Virtues in show and seemingly, because in a great measure it is more useful, to be Just and Sincere, than to be otherwise. Also it is requisite, to appear a Friend equally alike to all sorts of persons, and not to be so truly to any body. Not much to frequent one's Equals, and neither to despise them. With these qualities, it is an easy matter to insinuate into great men's company, especially if ones behaviour be not Offensive.  
If such a person as this will also force himself to flatter great Persons in their follies, wherewith they are most pleased, praise them for qualities which they really have, and for which every body blames them, and for those they think they have, and that every body knows they have not, how do they delight in such a Person, and how do they cry him up? But especially, if he holds in favour with those, that are at enmity amongst themselves, than he becomes alike useful to both party's, they both vie in his commendation, and others, seeing Persons so divided, agree in admiring him; it's presently believed, it can only be pure Merit, that can so unite them, and so conceive a good opinion of him, which, 
Si liberius, ut consuesti, agendum putatis. ep. 12. l. 5. ad fam. Sanctissimi hominis atque integerrimi illahumanitate illis studiis, artibus, doctrina.  diffusing abroad, does insensibly create this shadow of Reputation, wherewith those are deluded, that do really want it themselves.  
Such a kind of Person was Atticus, but his Antagonist was a Man of another Temper, and of a make altogether as Solid and Sincere, as that of Atticus was Forced and Artificial. He was called Lucius Lucceius, and was of a very good Family. He wrote the History of his times, with much Honour and Eloquence, as may be judged by Cicero's desiring him to write that of his Consulship apart, and with that Freedom and Sincerity, which was so Natural to him. 
Pro Caelio.  The same Cicero in a public Act applauds The integrity of his life, his virtue, 
Mehercule vir optimus & mihi amicissimus. ad Att. l. 1. Ep. 17.  goodness, and learning, with a greatness, that cannot be the least questioned; especially considering, that writing to Atticus himself about their difference, he cannot forbear to call the same Lucceius, a very honest Man, and his very good Friend. He was afterwards Competitor with Caesar and Bibulus for the Consulship, 
Sueto. c. 19 ad Att, l. 4. Ep. 16. Optimates, viri boni ad Att. passim.  and was refused it for no other reason, but for Corresponding with Caesar against Bibulus. For this Familiarity made him be suspected by the great Men, which were called the Honest Party, and declared Enemies to Caesar: But as they could not exclude this great Man, and that 'twas of great Moment to the Commonwealth, that he should not have the Colleague he desired, they used such extraordinary means to frustrate Lucceius, that at last they effected their desires, and and chose Bibulus in his stead.  
It appears that failing in this design, he quitted all farther pretensions, doubting the success, by reason of his many great and powerful Enemies, and in all likelihood, the very great sincerity of Life, that he professed and practised, made him give over the Correspondence he had maintained with Caesar, for which reason he employed him not in the Civil Wars, as he did all his other friends, and kept himself all that time in the Country, or privately in Rome at his Study, or other Domestic Affairs.  
But if you desire to know him more particularly, than by what I have already said, you may be pleased to read a Letter which he wrote to Cicero, upon the death of his dear Daughter Tullia. Methinks it shows so much tenderness, wisdom and discretion, that I was much pleased in Translating it. At these words Caesarion opening a little Manuscript full of Translations made by him, which I since copied out; I there read this which follows.  
LUCCEIUS his Letter to CICERO.  
IF you are in Health, I am glad of it; for my part I am much after one rate, or rather something worse than I use to be. I went to visit you, but was surprised to hear you were gone out of Rome as soon as you had left me, and am still so, not imagining what should oblige you thereto. If you are best pleased with privacy and retirement to write and study after your usual manner, I rejoice at it, and am very far from blaming you; for one can neither be better employed in these sad times wherein we live, nor in more flourishing and happy days, especially such a rare Genius as yours, which seeks a little respite from the trouble of your great Employments, and that always produceth something delightful unto others, and glorious for yourself. But if it be wholly to give yourself up to grief, as you did here, that you are retired, then am I sensibly concerned for you, because you suffer. But if you suffer me to speak my mind, I cannot approve your conduct. For can it be, that you, whose judgement penetrates the most hidden things, don't perceive that your continual sorrowing does you no good at all, and that you only increase your affliction, which your discretion should rather mitigate. But if I cannot prevail with you by my persuasions, I beg it of you in kindness, and by all the respect you have for me. I conjure you to give off this doleful kind of living, and return to the enjoyment of your friends; or if you desire to live solitary, in living at least with yourself, as you were wont to do before your misfortune, do so. If you are displeased with me for my good will, I am sorry to have troubled you, yet I would fain divert you from the course you take. Being moved with these two contrary passions, I hope you will either grant what I desire, if you can, or that you will pardon my importunity if you cannot. Farewell.  
LUCCEIUS CICERONI.  
SI vales bene est, ego valeo sicut soleo, paululo tamen etiam deterius quam soleo. Te requisivi saepius ut viderem. Romae, quia postea non fuisti quam a me discesseras, miratus sum; quod item nunc miror. Non habeo certum quae te res hinc maxime retrahat. Si solitudine delectere cum scribas, & aliquid agas eorum, quorum consuesti, gaudeo, neque reprehendo consilium tuum. Nam nihil isto potest esse jucundius, non modo miseris his temporibus & luctuosis, sed etiam tranquillis & optatis: praesertim, vel animo defatigato tuo, qui nunc requietem quaerat ex magnis occupationibus, vel erudito, qui semper aliquid ex se promat quod alios delectet, teipsum laudibus illustret. Sin autem sicut hic dum eras, & lacrymis & tristitiae te tradidisti, doleo, quia doles & angere: nec possum te (si concedis quod sentimus ut liberius dicamus) non accusare. Quid enim? tu solus aperta non videbis, qui propter acumen occultissima perspicis? Tu non intelliges, to querelis quotidianis nihil proficere? non intelliges duplicari sollicitudines, quas elevare tua te prudentia postulat. Quod si non possumus aliquid proficere suadendo, gratia contendimus; & rogando, si quid nostra causa vis, ut istis te molestiis laxes, & ad convictum nostrum redeas, & ad consuetudinem, vel nostram communem, vel tuam solius, ac propriam. Cupio non obtundere te si non delectere nostro study: cupio deterrere ne permaneas in incaepto. Quum dua res istae contrariae me conturbent, ex quibus, aut in altera mihi velim, si potes, obtemperes, aut in altera non offendas, Vale. L. 5. Ad famil. Ep. 14.  
See here, said I, (having done reading) a very obliging advice, and I cannot tell how a person of such singular merit could be refused, being in the right. Yet there's nothing more frequently seen, replied Caesarion. The greatest merits were not most esteemed in corrupt ages, as was the last of that of the Roman Commonwealth. There shined so many virtues amongst that glorious people for the space of six hundred years, that it could not be but some footsteps of them remained in the age we speak of. But in like manner, as craft and vice, which necessarily attend the greatness of Worldly Empire, had attained unto their highest pitch: Art had in most things subverted Nature, and the little, but precious remainder, of ancient simplicity and integrity of former ages, being mixed with much deceit and seeming virtue, became so much the more odious, as that it put on the resemblance of truth itself.  
In all age's Truth has been called a Chimaera by those that are not able to understand it, and those which do comprehend it, not putting it in practice, through malice, speak slightly of it, and give it the worst character they can. It were well if it were quit for not pleasing them; but as they cannot but admire it in their soul, they continue not in an indifferency, but go on to hate it, because naturally men hate what they Esteem very much, but cannot Love.  
How is't possible, say they, to live with persons that never will be reconciled with those they have once differed, that forgive not their friends, that have no regard for their counsels, nor for their entreaties; that expect such care and observance, that good Masters would not require from their Slaves; that do not regard their own concerns, and that will not suffer their friends to take the care which they ought to take their ownselves?  
Cicero might have said all this against Lucceius upon his obstinacy in not agreeing with Atticus, but he knew very well, that 'tis only those which easily differ, that are soon reconciled again. That offences which deserve but little notice to be taken of them, being received from indifferent persons, are mortal injuries when they proceed from a person that one loves, or of those by whom we think we deserve to be loved; no body is a better judge of advice, than him to whom it is given; that there are requests which be injurious as well as just: That one may expect from their friends, the same care and kindness as one hath for them. And to conclude, it is for the most part a kind of reproof, rather than sign of friendship, to concern one self in others affairs, whether they will or not.  
These are the Rules whereby Cicero governed himself with his friends. But there were but very few that were so virtuous as he was; as the friendship of Atticus was artificial, crafty, and suited, and adapted to the Commerce of the World; so that of Lucceius was pure and sincere, and altogether unfit for the World: It is not strange therefore, that Atticus his humour was more taking, and oftentimes procured him an applause that he did not really deserve.  
For the World does usually judge of affairs by the persons, instead of judging by the things themselves, for it requires some pains to examine a business, and 'tis a trouble which men do not willingly undergo; whereas there's no pains in judging of affairs thereafter as one is affected more or less with the person it concerns. Moreover when once one is settled in a fancy, one naturally shuns knowing what might change our opinion, because men don't care to know that they have been deceived.  
There is therefore no cause to wonder why Cicero said, That whoever it was that was in the right, either Atticus or Lucceius, their contest would only prove prejudicial to Lucceius in the World's esteem. Although Cicero wrote so plainly to Atticus himself, in supposing he might be in the wrong; to Atticus I say, who always boasted to be in the right. I make no doubt, but knowing him as I do, this supposition touched him to the quick, though perhaps he was glad at the heart that Cicero owned, as he did by this Discourse, that his reputation was settled to such a degree, that it might be supported, even without reason, against a man of that worth Lucceius was of; and in all likelihood it was to give him this secret pleasure, that Cicero, who understood him very well, wrote to him after this manner.  
Yet I have one request more to make to you, replied I, seeing Caesarion silent. It is to know if this grudge lasted always, it is not known, said he, how they were reconciled. But it appears by Cicero's Letters, that they visited each other familiarly twelve years after. That's a thing often seen when one has to do with a man of Atticus his temper. How much soever one is persuaded of their perfidiousness, they'll make themselves no strangers, and wanting no excuses of one sort or other, they employ so many friends to compose matters, that at last one is forced to comply: for commonly persons are more inclinable to the Offender, than to the Offended; the malignity of nature, being delighted at the seeing and suffering of ill, never fails, in these Occasions, to incline to him that gave the offence, to the prejudice of him that received it, under the specious pretence of making Peace.  
Nevertheless I cannot tell but the open Enmity of Atticus had been less hurtful to Lucceius than their reconciliation: for Atticus never acted but through respect of his own private interest, and would never have been so desirous of reconciliation, had he not believed that Lucceius his Enmity would have been to his disadvantage; not but that his also might have been hurtful to Lucceius; but there was this difference to be made, that their accommodation did absolutely remove the disadvantage which Atticus might receive by this Enmity, because Lucceius could not be reconciled but with a truly good intent, whereas there was great cause to think that Atticus would not be any truer to him after reconciliation, than he was before their rapture, especially being nettled by the long refusal Lucceius made of being accommodated, and by the secret reproaches of his own Conscience, wherewith the most vicious persons (do they what they can to suppress them) are as often tormented, as the most ignorant sort of men.  
By what I had ever heard of Atticus formerly, the description Caesarion now gave me of him, could not choose but surprise me. I had always heard him represented as the true model of an honest man: having read his Life in Latin, French and English, I was fully confirmed in this opinion, and I freely confess, I feared there might be some affectation of singularity in your friend's sentiment; he judged of my thoughts by my countenance, and having freely owned it to him, he continued his Discourse as follows.  
It is very true, said he, most intelligent Persons, and that are best skilled in these matters, are of a very different judgement from me touching the man we speak of, and do not wonder at it. He deceived wiser than they, and those that had opportunity of knowing him better. I speak of the learned age wherein he lived, wherein I told you already, that his Reputation was as great as I believe it was undeserved. You must not imagine that he was the only person of this kind: I'll instance in others both Ancient and Modern when you please, and 'tis very probable his Historian took the voice of the People for it, which is not always the voice of God. But his error is no authority, and the character of his Hero is of that importance to be cleared up, that it deserves to be examined a little narrower than he has done it.  
You may guests how easily Fame is acquired by having great Riches, when one knows ever so little how to use them; to judge aright of a man he should be considered by the qualities which are least seen; and there is no degree of Reputation but may be attained without virtue; by riches, wit and a great deal of vanity; there can nothing more necessary be taught Gentlemen of your age, than to distinguish counterfeit virtues from real, and not to be deceived by common report in the merit of particular persons. You cannot imagine the trouble one has all their life, for admiring persons in their youth, which deserve not to be admired. And when I speak of merit, pray observe, that I thereby mean true integrity and honesty, without which I know not any, and it is that merit which I deny to Atticus, for (this excepted) it was hard to have more wit and prudence than he had, or to understand the Times, Men and Business better than he did.  
If what you say be true, replied I to this Discourse, his Historian is the greatest flatterer that ever was. Say rather that he was his Panegyrist, said Caesarion; Nepos is in most things a down right Liar, and appears to be but of a mean capacity, as may be judged by what we have remaining of his; he took for currant all that his Hero said to make himself be cried up; and relates, as undoubted truth, all that he had heard spoken in favour of Atticus, by Atticus himself.  
One cannot be justly more suspected than Nepos is: he boasts to have lived so familiarly with this Gallant, that he was privy to his Journal of Expenses; he intervened in his actions, and at his request registered some of them. It does not appear that this Historian made any great Figure in the World, as most of his time did; so that there's just cause to suspect, that Atticus his friendship being the highest of his preferment, his own private interest moved him to advance the glory of Atticus to the highest pitch he could. But you shall find afterwards that he was so unfortunate or indiscreet, that the most glorious actions related by him, are either convinced of falsehood by other Writers, of greater credit than him, or related in such a manner by himself, that unawares he destroys all their Merit in discoursing of their true Original.  
You promise me things that are very curious, replied I to Caesarion; I very much question if any besides yourself could perform your promise, and you will do me a singular pleasure if you discharge it faithfully. There's no need of being a very able man, replied he, to satisfy you therein, and I'll not defer your desire any longer.  
To render the Oeconomy and Liberality of Atticus the more admirable, and to show that he had not increased his wealth but by honest ways; Nepos boldly affirms, 
Nullius rei neque praes, neque manceps. Tu aliquid publicanus pendis. l. 2. ep. 15.  that he was never concerned in business, neither directly nor indirectly, as other Knights of Rome usually were. Nevertheless the quite contrary appears by Cicero's Letters, which Nepos himself testifies to have seen; in which this Orator calls Atticus Publican in express terms, and gives him an account of a Decree of the Senate against the Creditors of the Free People, wherein Atticus himself was concerned, because he had advanced great Sums of money for those of Sicionia, which were of that quality.  
And it would be very strange to conceive, how he should acquire such extraordinary great Riches, distributing so Liberally, and living so Honourably as he did, having never born any Office nor Command, if he had not gained Wealth some other way; and there's no doubt but it was the cause that made a learned French Critic, in some obscure words which he wrote to Cicero, discover, that he held a Bank at Rome in his own House, under the Name of Oppius', which were at his Devotion, and made public profession of it. But I excuse Nepos for being ignorant of the thing, for by the dark Enigmatical manner that Atticus mentions it to Cicero, it may easily be seen that he concealed it with extraordinary care, and made not his Historian privy to it.  
In another place to exaggerate the great esteem every body had for him; the same Historian positively affirms, that Pompey had no ill will for him, for staying in Italy during the Civil Wars, without joining to any side, although he was bound in strict bands of Amity to this great Man. Nevertheless the same Cicero, who must needs know things better than Nepos, 
Constitutum omnium vestrum bonae praedam esse illius victcriae. Vestrum plane dico, nunquam enim de te ipso nisi crudelissime cogitatum est. ep. 6. l. 11.  seeing he was at that time with Pompey in Thessaly, writes in express terms to Atticus after the Death of this General, that he esteemed them equally his Enemies, that had not followed and sided with him, I say you as well as others, says Cicero, for it was determined, to have used you Cruelly, if we had returned to Rome.  
I would instance in sundry other places, wherein Nepos has not been more faithful, than in these two now mentioned, but as that would be too tedious, so I'll content myself to instance one more, after which, you will the easier credit the rest; it is where he affirms, 
Ciceroni in omnibus ejus periculis singularem fidem praebuit.  that Atticus had a perfect kindness for Cicero in all his troubles. You shall hear what Cicero himself saith, and I cannot sufficiciently admire the impudence of this Writer, to dare affirm a thing so boldly, in a Work wherein he speaks in the praise of Letters written by Cicero himself to his Hero; 
L 3. ep. 15.24. etc.  whereas the very same Letters avouch the quite contrary, and are full of reproofs and just and vehement complaints, which Cicero makes of Atticus, to Atticus himself.  
I am not any longer surprised at Nepos' Errors, said I to Caesarion, by what you have related to me of him. But I much admire at Atticus, by what you have now said, and I could never have thought, but that so great a Friendship, as that betwixt him and Cicero, should have been maintained on both parts with all the fidelity imaginable; you won't so much wonder at it, replied Caesarion, if you consider what follow's, with a little more heed than you have hitherto done. You will not find in him any symptom of true goodness, and it cannot be said it was the commerce of the World that depraved him, because in this respect he was the same in his Youth as he was in his riper Years.  
His Father died when he was very Young, and left him Wealth more than enough to serve him as long as he lived. For his Quality, he was but of the Equestrian Order, that is to say, a good Alderman or Citizen. In his Youth when the most timorous have some courage, he quited Italy, and retired to Athens under a pretence of studying, but in effect, it was because a Seditious Tribune had been executed at Rome, 
Anicia Pomponii consobrina nupserat M. Servio fratri P. Sulpitii qui tribunus plebis interfectus est.  whose Brother had Married Atticus his Cousin-german, this was, as you may perceive, to see a storm far off; and one could not have desired more favourable circumstances of becoming a perfect Epicure than these were, as he verified afterwards. I don't design to censure this Sect, I perfectly know its sentiments as well as you: Nevertheless I cannot but say, that 'tis a strange kind of Wisdom, to see one's Country on the point of utter ruin, without concerning one's self one way or other, although one has Extraordinary means and opportunities of serving it; and to suffer all things to be turned upside-down, rather than to be exposed to the least danger. I make no doubt, but you have heard of the Law of Solon, that declared those Infamous, which took not some side or other in a public Insurrection. But this Subject would engage us too far; you may only observe, that this kind of temper of profound indifferency, not to say insensibleness, which Atticus had all his life, for all things which did not directly concern himself, was the true cause of his continual prosperity; and it was this prosperity that made him chiefly to be admired. But it is an easy matter to be happy when one is left rich, enjoys wit and health, and cares for no body.  
Do you call that, replied I, caring for no body, to support one's Friends, when they are forsaken by all the World, with money and all necessaries in their need, without expecting any return or recompense: Yes answered Caesarion unconcernedly; I call this proceeding, vanity, ostentation, policy, in fine, any thing rather than true Liberality, when it is so dissembled, artifitial, and selfended, as was that of Atticus, when it has only vain glory for its scope, and does not appear as well in private as on public occasions.  
He sent money to young Marius his schoolfellow, when he fled proscibed by Sylla; it was the greatest name of Rome, 
Neque longius quam dictum esset eos debere passus fit, neque indulgendo inveterascere eorum as altenum patiebatur.  and it was hard to judge at that time, if he would not become more powerful than ever he was before, according to what had lately happened his Father. He lent to the Athenians considerable sums of Money without Interest, to pay their City Debts, and Nepos commends him, for requiring it to be paid punctually at the prefixed time; so great an itch had he to praise him on any score. He could not better have bestowed his Liberality than upon the most Illustrious City in the World, which he had chose for the place of his retirement, at a time when he thought it not oversafe to stay at Rome. And all kind of respects were paid him in acknowledgement thereof, nothing was done but by his Ministry and Advice; it proceeded so far, that they erected Statues in his Honour, whether he would or no, in the most public places in the City.  
I see nothing, said I, but what was very commendable in this action; the Athenians gratitude could not render the thing to be done out of self-interest, and it seems to me to enhance the kindness, rather than to lessen it. If there be no more in't than to say Atticus did it through vain glory; then the best and most commendable actions may by the same reason be sensured, because every thing may be esteemed vain glorious when 'tis known, that is, as soon as it comes to be spoken of.  
Nevertheless, replied Caesarion, he did more generous actions than these were in appearance, the which however Cicero did not very well approve of; and after the manner that he dealt with Atticus, it may safely be affirmed, that he put no great value on these splendid Liberalities, seeing he cannot forbear writing slightly of them unto Atticus himself. But, saith he in a certain place, 
Sed heus tu Achenis, placet hoc tibi.  Is it true that you have distributed Corn to the Athenians, do you think it's well done?  
This Discourse, if I mistake not, intimates that these actions were at least much suspected in those times, when they could be better judged of than now; and Cicero's authority is of far greater weight in this matter than that of Nepos. Nevertheless it must be granted, it would be unjust to censure them, did one know no more than what this Historian does relate; but he reporting others of the same stamp, which are undoubtly false, one may by the same measure the more naturally judge of those that be dubious.  
After the death of Caesar it was proposed amongst the Roman Knights, to raise a stock for the maintenance of his Assassinates, in consideration of the pretended service they had done the Commonwealth. One of these Knights who had the chief conduct of the business, thinking he could not better advance it, than by engaging therein one of the chief of his Order, addressed himself unto Atticus, as unto a particular friend of Brutus, who was chief of the Murderers. What answer think you Atticus made unto this proposal? 
Ille consensionis globus hujus unius dissensione dissectus est qui officia amicis praestanda sine factione existimaret, etc.  there was need of maintaining an action, which at that time was esteemed generous by every body, and there appeared no danger in doing it. He made the whole design fall to the ground (saith Nepos) thinking it not fit to serve his friends by a spirit of faction. Did you ever see a poorer excuse, nor the word Faction worse applied? and that you may the plainer see that he refused only out of singularity. Affairs having quite changed soon after, and Brutus with his complices being forced to withdraw, Atticus sent him considerable sums of money of free gift. But who doth not see that this supply, how great soever, could not be comparable to that which was designed to be given him by the greatest part of the welthyest Citizens, of which he was deprived by Atticus his refusal: and to conclude, this denial could proceed only from an affectation of being distinguished from all others, without any other end or aim, but an envious fear and jealousy of sharing with his equals in the glory of a good action.  
It's true, replied I, there appears something very strange in this conduct, and that renders it something suspicious, and I cannot but own it. But in requital you must grant in the next place, that there could be nothing more free and generous, than what he did a while after in regard of Antonius. One had need be something more than a Prophet, to foresee the Triumvirate during the Siege of Modena; Antonius declared an Enemy by the Senate, routed, and forsed to raise the Siege by Octavius and the Consuls, his whole Army dispersed and slain, himself flying into Gaul to the mercy of Lepiddus, abandoned by his best Friends, and persecuted by some of them as by his worst Enemies; his Wife and Children exposed every moment to the greatest Extremitys. In this deplorable condition Atticus entertains and supports those of his, that held true to him, supplies them with all necessaries; accompanies Fulvia in all places, intercedes for her, and becomes her caution, lends her money without interest, to pay Debts which were fallen due, without obliging her to repayment. It seems to me that 'tis not enough to be good and disinterested to act after this manner, but also it shows resoluteness and great courage.  
To answer the exaggeration you have now made, replied Caesarion; before we examine this matter to the bottom, let me desire you to make? reflection, which I have taken from a good authority, which perhaps you have never yet thought of. At these words Caesarion musing about what he intended to say, we heard a noise of several Horsemen in the Court, which obliged us to rise and see what it meant.  
The End of the Third Day.   

CAESARION. The Fourth Day.  
OUr Conversation was deferred for some time by company that came to visit your friend, and though it wrought in me some impressions not very agreeable unto one of my years, yet I can say without vanity, that it was with great satisfaction I returned unto it. Besides the extraordinary desire one has naturally to improve one's self in knowledge, having never met a man that condescended more to humour my weak apprehension; our discourse had also in it the pleasure of Novelty, and I was sensibly taken in that part that was most grateful to me. I fancied therefore to be returned to the light after a long darkness, the first time we met together alone, and the delight I conceived might have been discerned in my looks by any body else, as well as by him. It was, I shall never forget it, the very afternoon of the same day that our Company went away, we walked in the same Gallery talking together, which I told you faced his Closet; and as he could not but wonder at the pleasure I took in his discourse, not knowing otherwise how to divert the commendations he gave me on that account, and which was burdensome to me; I bethought myself of ask him the meaning of the first Picture that offered itself to my view, amongst several others that were in the same place.  
It represented a Man with a Face as great as it was ill fetured, very ill accoutered after the Greek habit, leaning with one Hand upon his Staff, and stretching out the other, half open, unto a Statue richly adorned. Near this man lay an empty Vessel, part of the Head being out, the bottom of the Cask might be seen: without much difficulty, by this equipage I knew it was the Philosopher Diogenes, but the posture wherein he was represented appearing something strange, I desired to know of Caesarion what it signified; I'll make you, replied he, the same answer Paulus Emilius made those that desired him in the behalf of King Perseus his prisoner, that he might not be carried in Triumph through Rome, That he would ask it of his own self. If I understood what the Painter had done, said I, I should not have any need to ask the explication of it of myself, nor of you. And have you not heard, replied he, that sometimes one knows things that one thinks they be ignorant of. Inquire therefore of your own self with a little reflection, what this posture means, and you will find at last, that you will resolve your own self as well as I can.  
This Picture, said he, is not like most others which represent Histories. Painters have not always the judgement as good as the sight, they think that all things are alike fit to be painted, yet there be but few things proper to be painted, for the Pencil not being capable, to give the Figures motion upon the Cloth, it cannot represent but very imperfectly, those Objects which consist in motion, as Combats, bodily Exercises, Tempests, Incendiaries, and most of those things which they most of all delight in. I know not if any body else has felt the displeasure that I have done, in considering this kind of Painting, for methinks the Figures ought to have Motion, and the Moving Posture wherein they be represented, though in effect they are immovable, doth imply a kind of contradiction, wherewith my mind is somewhat dissatisfied.  
At this rate, said I, you had need of Comedians or Stage-players to represent things, and you would deprive Painters of the greatest and pleasantest part of their Profession: That is not my design, replied he, and if it were, I would not venture to divulge it. But I say to judge naturally of things, it were better to Paint Histories, whose essential part consisted in a fixed posture, which the Pencil may very well perform, whereof there has been some instances, wherein the persons concerned have been in all liklyhood immovable. As for Example, the action of Saevola, immovably constant holding his hand in the Flames, whilst Porsenna and the rest that beheld him were immovable through admiration. Such also was the judgement of Soloman, where the true Mother held the Arm of him that went to Divide her Child, whilst the pretended Mother stood immovable in her Obstinacy. And such to conclude, is the Picture that you see. Imagine then what sense you would give the Action it represents, if you see it in the Original, seeing it would be but the same that 'tis in the Copy.  
If passing through the Caemariqae amongst the Statues of the Demy Gods of Greece, 
Plutar. of Shame.  you should see Diogenes prostrate before one of those Images, holding out his hand ask an Alms, what would you think of it? I should be much startled at it, said I, to see so careless a Man begging, and so wise a Man to beg of a Statue; that is the very reason, riplyed Caesarion, which should make you guess the meaning of his posture. It don't seem strange to you to beg of a Statue, but because it cannot give any thing. If then any body asks of it, 'tis not because they think to receive any thing; this demand therefore is not out of Interest, it is not therefore incompatable with the great indifferency of Diogenes, there only remains to inquire why he amused himself about so frivolous (not to say so foolish) an Action.  
To understand the true Reason, you need only consider him with attension in this posture; I should soon be tried, said I, and could not long hold out without growing impatient. Admire then, replied Caesarion, the patience of this Philosopher in so unpleasant an exercise, that you cannot behold him a moment without displeasure. If your Patience cannot resist so little a thing, what would you do at Court, where you would find a Thousand greater occasions to try it. It would be in vain to flatter one's self with Success, If one did not practise this important Virtue, as you see Diogenes here doth. If one does not beg as he doth without hope of being heard, and of being refused too without being discouraged. Importunity perseverance, boldness, these be the qualities necessary to make our servise acceptable to those Idols, to whom our ambition and covetousness does sacrifice the best of our days; whoever has these qualities, shall be heard sooner or later; without them, wisdom, valour, goodness and virtue, are but frivolous ornaments.  
You are surprised at this Discourse, replied Caesarion, seeing me silent, you thought till now, that Merit alone had been sufficient to advance a man in the World. The several Masters and Tutors you have been under, have only laboured in a manner to no other end, than to imprint this in your mind: That a perfectness in corporal exercises and virtuous qualities were a necessary and infallible means of making a fortune in the World. This is true in one sense; this persuasion was necessary for you at that time and age, doubtless it contributed very much towards your accomplishment, and it was not very requisite you should know any more at that time.  
But when you left those Masters to enter into the commerce of the world, had they fully discharged themselves of their duty, they ought to have told you quite another thing, they ought to have told you what you dreamt not of, that the best qualities both acquired and natural, are things difficult to be used; that they must be concealed almost as often as shown; that oftentimes they make those conceited that enjoy them, make them silly and hated, and sometimes render them ridiculous, and therefore for the most part do more hurt than good. That at best they only procure a forced and unprofitable esteem, that they have very little contributed unto the greatest fortunes that have been made, and that if any that are endowed with these qualities and know best to use them, arrive at any extraordinary promotion, they served only for show, he owes the true cause of it to some other quality of more value in the main, and which lies more hid.  
Caesarion stopping at these words, I confess said I, you surprise me. I believed indeed there was ill ways of advancement, but I also concluded that there were good ways no less certain, and that a man of good merit might attain good fortune without doing any thing unworthy of himself.  
You are very much deceived, replied Caesarion, a man of this stamp is a kind of public Enemy, which all the world has reason to hate; he tyranizes over men by a kind of necessity, he imposes upon them to esteem him; he is the cause that all other things are not admired as much as himself; he engrosses a great many applauses which would serve to gratify a great many others; how then can he but be envied?  
This persuasion is as firmly rooted in the minds of men, as the love of glory itself; and it never appeared more than amongst the people that were most of all inflamed with a love of this glory. You know against what sort of men the Ostracism was set up at Athens: and doubtless you have heard of that Country Fellow that gave his voice for banishing Aristides; he could give no other reason for it, but that it displeased him to hear him always be called the Just. 
Nemo de nobis unus excellat; sed siquis extiterit, alio in loco & apud alios sit. Sic. Tusc. quaest. l. 5.  So those of Ephesus expelled the most virtuous of their Citizens without any other reason, but for these memorable words, That none amongst them should excel above his fellows, and if there be any here that would, let them go excel elsewhere. So the Ephori condemned Agesilaus into a Mulct, because he alone possessed the hearts of the Lacedæmonians. And he that conquered Hannibal thought he ought to banish himself from Rome, that so he might give liberty to virtues inferior to his, to appear there; so true it is, that at all times nothing has been more dangerous amongst men, than too shining a merit.  
If this remarkable truth has appeared in the most virtuous and best governed Commonwealths, do you think it will not appear in Courts, where many times there is neither order nor virtue? There's nothing harder than for such a man as you mean, there to find favour or protection; because those which have the chief power, are not always of such merit, as not to fear such as are endowed with higher merit than themselves. One had need have a great stock of virtue, to love it in another as much as it deserves; this is the most assured sign of true merit, and one may, without vanity, be fully assured of his own, when one does right to that of other men's; that one takes pleasure in making it known, and that one honours the party indifferently, in all places, and at all times.  
And such a one was Scipio, that I before mentioned to you; and I cannot better represent him to you by this great Idea, than in the very words of his incomparable Historian. After the unfortunate death of his Father and Uncle in Spain, one of their Lieutenants, called Martius, maintained the glory of Rome, which had been shrewdly shaken by such two terrible blows, that scarce any that succeeded those two great men, could not well have supplied their place better than him: So that of those that were in Rome capable of such employments, there was none that durst aspire to that, in Spain, but the Heir of the Illustrious deceased; he was aged about 24 years. How do you think he carried himself towards this brave Lieutenant, who would have darkened the glory of any other Captain but this, when he arrived in his Province? He did not set about changing the Orders Martius had given; he did not narrowly search into the faults that might be committed before his coming, amongst so many great transactions, and of what might have been done better than was done: He kept not strictly his distance and port, as was due to him as General, and affected not the respect due to it, 
Martium secum tanto cum honore habeb at, ut facile appareret, eum nihil minus vereri, quam ne quis obstaret gloriae suae. l. 26. Aelian. Hist. divers. l. 12. c. 16. Quint. Curt. l. 8  with this great Person, more than he did with others his inferiors: neither did he use indirect ways, as most Commanders do, to disparage the conduct of their Predecessors; He had Martius always near him, saith Tit. Livius, and he did him so great honour, that 'twas plainly seen, he feared not that any body could hinder the progress of his glory.  
Alexander, surnamed the Great attained not such a pitch of virtue; he was not so ingenious, saith the most impartial of his Historians, in valuing the virtue and courage of his own Countrymen, as much as he did that of strangers. Another Author makes a long narrative of the good qualities peculiar unto each of his Captains, for which he hated them without any other cause, and therefore Parmenion, him that of all others knew him best, said for an only lesson to Philotas, My Son be little in thine own esteem. If a person of so eminent degree as this Conqueror, was not free from jealousy, how can it be expected, that the most part of the great Men, we speak of, can be exempt from it? And what assistance can a man of true virtue and merit hope from such, in preferring him at Court? Yet what possibility is there of being considered without the favourable recommendation of some or other? The Prince's favour and goodwill is already engaged, how virtuous and valiant soever a person is, he must not think to be regarded for that reason alone, unless he is engaged to do it by some other way and means. It's possible he may do you right, should he reward your merits; but how unlikely is it, that he will trouble himself to inquire into your deserts? Something else is requisite for the attaining your ends.  
A Prince that has already chose and settled his affection upon his Ministers and Favourites, before ever you were thought of, thinks that he has no further need of any body else; he sees by their Eyes, hears by their Ears, and for the most part Judges by their judgement: So that any body that offer their service, otherwise than by their means, is not regarded by him, he must move out of his Sphere to do otherwise: being only familiarly acquainted with them, he knows not if there be any others that excel them; and herein he resembles that Woman amongst the Ancients, that supposed all men had stinking breath, because she never kissed any but her own Husband.  
Moreover, Favourites and great Ministers, looking upon the Prince's favour to be uncertain, and a thing that may be lost; they dread nothing more than a man that is endowed with the many good qualities you speak of; they knowing him a long time, do judge better than new Comers the effects it may produce in the mind of their Master; they know how to represent such of these qualities as may not be pleasing, and use all means to hinder those from being known, which would please too much.  
And do not imagine, that 'tis interest alone that makes them act in this manner, in dissipating the cloud that threatens them, it is the general practice of Courtiers to preceded this way, although they drive at several ends; and the most opposite agree in this, to discourage porsons of extraordinary merit from having any shear in the Prince his favour, although they cannot but have a great esteem for such themselves. It is a compact which they be naturally inclined to, and they never fail to agree in the executing of it: they have no need of consulting, nor of being advised to join together in these occasions; envy and vanity, wherewith they are equally possessed, directs them to the same end, more than all the consultatious in the World can do.  
Let but one of them begin to tell a ridiculous story of such a Person as this, either false, or so grossly counterfeit, that it can scarce be discerned by those which know the contrary; he is surprised, that another, who it may be knows not so much as he does, should presently give such credit to what he heard, that the other might be ready, to guests at what he so cunningly invented. Two or three such ill Offices as this, were sufficient to ruin any Man, were he never so well esteemed by his Prince, who if not very wise, never inquires into the Cause of things; or if he doth, is not for the most part more favourable to Persons of extraordinary Merit, than his Courtiers are.  
Therefore it is, that he scarce ever regards such Persons as these be, for Men are startled at the least inclination he has for them, and then they are envied by all the World; and this general design of ruining them, which is a necessary Consequence of the goodness of his choice, discourages the Prince and naturally inclines him to be suspicious.  
It may plainly be perceived, that the general aversion he finds in men's minds for the good choice he should make, does at length reduce him to the necessity of making a bad one, and then he finds no longer any opposition; for it is only Virtue and Merit which are suspected; a Man is seldom hated for being Vicious, the first favours bestowed on him are not suspected, they are attributed to some other Cause, and 'tis not believed they can hold long, yet such a person easily and without opposition, by his corruptness, Establishes himself in the Prince's favour, to the Admiration of all the World; It is not believed till 'tis too late, and the wisdom of the Prince being engaged, he is bound in honour to vindicate it, and will not be persuaded to the contrary of what he has done.  
Caesarion having delivered this Discourse with some concerndness, stopping at these words, I could not but testify to him my Astonishment at what he said; for although the consequence seemed very natural in hearing him, yet I did not well perceive to what it tended. If it be so, said I, nothing is more difficult, than for a Prince to make a wise choice; there's no question of it, said he, for he never understands the persons that he chooses, and all that are about him agree to cousin him; and the life of those especially that are nearest him is nothing else but a continual Fars, wherein all things are represented to him in Masquerade: However methinks, said I, when it falls out that he makes any extraordinary ill choice, it being the interest of a great many to inform him of it, it cannot choose, but in time he must be somewhat sensible of it, and so by consequence reform his error. Then you think it a small matter, replied Caesarion, to confess that one is mistaaken; this aversion being natural to all Men, is more particularly rooted in the spirits of Princes. Vain glory is so inherent to them, that 'twere almost unjust to censure them for it. Pray tell me which is the best course they can take in the condition you place them, either to publish to the World the ill choice they have made by correcting it; or by continuing to persist in the same.  
Now by this demand I understand your meaning. I find that what you say of Favourites is true, and that a Prince is much in the right, not to change them how bad soever they be. But methinks it should not be so of his Ministers; no certainly, replied Caesarion, Favourites are not directly concerned with public affairs, all their actions do only regard the person and particular actions of the Prince; so that the little Merit they have, is scarce known to any, but to those which be as near the Prince as themselves, and such are sufficiently concerned not to disclose it to the rest of the World.  
On the contrary, the Function of Ministers of State being public, a Prince that has made an ill choice of them cannot hid the Error he has committed in persevering in it; and rather than convince the World of their incapacity, one of these two things is believed; either that he understands it not, and that ignorant as they be, he thinks them very able, because they are wiser than him, or that, if he wants not judgement, and is destitute of humanity and true glory, seeing he cares not that all the World should suffer through his Fault, and is less sensible of his People's just grievance, than at the shame of owning his own Error.  
And is it not just, replied I, at these words, to judge after this sort? One cannot judge otherwise, answered Caesarion, but Princes do not think so. And what can they think, when they prefer persons to the greatest Employments, that are not capable of discharging the least? They think, said he, and they are not altogether deceived, that most Men do not judge of things themselves, and much less of those things that are above their Capacity: that 'tis easy to deceive the sight, when one appears but seldom and at a distance; to hid one's Ignorance when one speaks but seldom, or when one lists, and when one is not bound to be accountable for on's Actions. To give an outward attention and seemingly listen to Discourse, and yet though they did so seriously, do not at all comprehend what they hear. To conclude, they believe that the number of those that have judgement sufficient, to distinguish truth through the mist of error, and have courage to defend it, being but very few in comparison of the contrary party, their wisdom and freedom makes them only be scoffed at, and they be suppressed by the great numbers of those who are not so judicious, or if they be, dare not declare what they think.  
But grant that all this were true, said I again, were it not better and more glorious for a Prince, to choose Ministers, that stood not in need of these poor shifts, to conceal their little Merit from the sight of the World? There's no doubt of it, replied Caesarion, but you don't consider, that most great Men desire not to be often seen, nor narrowly discerned by Men of great Virtue and Merit.  
Persons do not make choice of extraordinary Men, any farther than they resemble them. It is only a wise Prince, that will make choice of a wise Minister, and that will praise him, and declare to the World the benefit he receives thereby. Let us drink said Philip of Macedon, making a Debauch amongst his Friends, in the midst of his greatest affairs, Let us Drink, 
Athen. l. 10.  it is sufficient that Antipater is sober. This in my opinion, is the highest commendation that ever was given by a Sovereign to a subject. To speak after this manner, Philip must needs look upon the great Merit of Antipater, as making up a part of his own. A Prince that gave so high an Encomium to his Minister, had no cause to be jealous of him; he must be as excellent a Prince, as his Minister was an excellent Minister. And had I no other proof than this Discourse, I should be no less assured of it, than by the great things which daily experience shows us.  
It's true, replied I, that of all the passages of Antiquity, that I have heard of, none touched me sosensibly as this did. Do not you find therein as well as I, said Caesarion, something that appears not only natural and familiar, but also noble and great? In the liberty of Wine and feasting of those Times, which was not so regular as in our Days, to have the presence of Mind excusing his excess, even when it might have been connived at, to those that might have blamed it, and of giving a sober account of it, although the time and place might have dispensed him herein, whosoever knew how to make a Debauch in this manner, could not be much prejudiced thereby.  
But to return to our Discourse; Do not imagine that all great Men, such as the King we speak of, do glory in having near them Persons of the Merit of Antipater: An excellent Minister cannot suit with a Prince of little judgement; it's enough that he may have good servants, and 'tis also true, that such will never preserve him from falling into danger. If Agrippa had been a Man of such a Soul, Augustus had never been Master of the World. These are excellent Mariners in calm and fair weather, and during a prosperous Gale, but the first Storm they soon are split to pieces on some Rock or Sands. But they have the pleasure for a while to diceive the World, and to be thought able persons amongst such as be not so; their very Shipwreck which awakens the most insensible, does not always reclaim the Prince from his Error; they impute the misfortune to the Winds or Planets, and although he does not excuse them, yet had he rather be dishonoured by persons, that he can sometimes look upon as inferior to him, than to be well served by others, that he must be obliged to admire.  
I cannot tell, answered I, at these words, if there be any such Princes as those you speak of; but I know that Augustus whom you mentioned but now, was none of the number: You may, replied Caesarion, be deceived as well as many others; he had a great deal of wit and ingenuity, 'tis not to be denied; but he was not altogether so great a Genius as most do imagine, grounding their belief upon the report of some Modern Writers, who have not had knowledge sufficient to be competent Judges in the Case. And I am much deceived, continued he, if you are not well pleased at what I shall relate to you of him.  
You know better than I, 
Abstinuit congressu hominum Diu prae pudore, & jam de necanda deliberavit. Suet.  that being informed of his Daughter's misfortunes, he was at the same time so afflicted in hearing that it was known, and so exasperated against her, for the singular circumstances wherewith it was attended: That he not only refused to appear in in public for a considerable time, but had also thoughts of putting his Daughter to Death. But altering his mind, 
De silia absens, ac libello per Quaestorum recitato sub notum senatui fecit. ibid.  instead of wholly conniving at her Debauches, not being willing to punish them as they deserved, he could not forbear complaining to the Senate, by a Memorial which he caused there to be read publicly to that purpose. It was his Custom after this manner to impart his most important Affairs, whether Public or Domestic, to the Fathers of the Senate, when he did not do it in person. But some time after, his anger and grief giving place to his Reason, he repent publishing his own Shame, in such a manner as all the World was sensible of the business, and in the just displeasure thereof cried out more than once: 
Horum mihi nihil accidisset, si aut Agrippa, aut Mecoenas vixisset. Senec. 6 de Benef.  That if Agrippa or Maecenas had been alive, he had not committed such an Error.  
Nothing can be more to the Subject we speak of, than what you have now mentioned. This unfortunate Father, so happy in all things else, knew very well, as you see, the great need that a Prince has (be he never so able himself) of a Minister, that may be as able or wiser than himself; of one that he may love and esteem so much, as to suffer him to reclaim him when he doth amiss. And to quit this old pernicious Maxim of Court; If thou dost hinder thy Master from Falling, he will not be sensible, that 'tis thou that Raisest him up. But believe me, there are but very few, that will own, as this Emperor did, that their Counselors have more wisdom than they. And were I to begin the World agine, I should be cautious how I judged of others by him; and I would rather give credit to a Courtier belonging to Emanuel King of Portugal, whose Example may serve for a Rule, to all able persons, that have to do with great Men.  
This Prince, having a Letter of importance to write, commanded one of his Gentlemen to do it; the Gentleman performed his part the best he could, and carried it to the King: The King, having read it, drew one out of his Pocket, that he had composed himself about the same business, and comparing them together, he ingeniously confessed, that the Gentleman's was the best, and that he would make use of it. What reflection, think you, made the Courtier on this Discourse; he took no farther notice of it, but making a profound Obeisance, went presently and took leave of his best Friend, teling him, That he had no more to do at Court, the King knew that he had more wit than himself. I do not conceive, replied I, at this story, that this Example is of any great moment. In all likelihood this Gentleman was too soon alarmed, and the Noble sinceririty of his Master, in doing him justice, would have produced other effects, than to expel a person of his Merit. As it was more glorious to the King to submit, than it was to the Courtier to be submitted to; he had more reason to be jealous of his Master, than to fear that his Master should be jealous of him, and it could not be thought, but a Prince, that could do so generous an Action, would also put a due value upon it.  
Nothing can be better imagined, than what you have now expressed, replied Caesarion, to me: Nevertheless as nothing obliged the King to show his Letter, and it not being to his Credit to do it; it may well be supposed he did it unawares, and that he repent doing of it. Now if you do not think, that the effects of the displeasure he had for it, would not fall on him, that was the occasion of it, you have not the same Idea of the hearts of Men that I have, and especially of great Men.  
How can they, without displeasure, acknowledge themselves inferior, in any thing, to persons that are so far from being worthy to be their Equals? All that they hear or see tends only to make them believe that they are above all things; what appearance is there, that they can resist so pleasant an impression? Men not only endeavour to give them an opinion of the greatest Idea of themselves, but also strive to find high mysteries in the explication they make of the meanest of their expressions, which they could never have dreamt of themselves, by turning into ridioule the good Qualities of their Equals, thereby to provoke their displeasure, and what is worst of all, and most tends to corrupt them, is, by disguising their greatest faults with the names of virtues which resemble them.  
Now if private persons, 
Non vides ipsum illum Aristotelis discipulum tanto ingenio, tanta modestia, postquam Rex appellatus sit, crudelem, superbum, immoderatum fuisse. Cic. ad Att. l. 13. ep. 2.8  whose whole life is nothing but a continual passage from one subjection to another, or that at least spend the greatest part of it with persons that have no need to flatter us, find it so difficult to rule our passions and self-love: how should a great Prince, whose state is a kind of continual intoxication, become reasonable, without it be by a special grace of God, or by an extraordinary gift of wisdom?  
Do you not see, cried the greatest Wit in Rome, speaking familiarly to his best friend of what might be expected of Caesar, (who then appeared very moderate) if once he became peaceable and absolute Master of the Commonwealth, Do you not see (saith he unto him) how the Disciple of Aristotle so wise, so modest, became passionate, cruel and proud, as soon as he was mounted the Throne.  
As able as he thought himself, this great Judge was however deceived in his opinion: the Roman, he prophesied so ill of, made as great a progress in virtue, even to his death, as the Greek, to whom he resembles him, had done in vice. But Caesar had been 50 years a private person, and besides we do not every day find a Caesar.  
Not that I will say, but that our age has produced great Spirits, that do move in high Spheres. Nature is as liberal and vigorous as heretofore; not to instance in those whose reputation equals their merit, such as the invincible Monarch of France, envied by the whole World. I was told, some years past, of a great Prince, who at 13 years of age, being praised by his Courtiers, for some Action that he was not over well satisfied withal himself, he answered in reproving them of their flattery, I Prencipi fanno sempre tutto bene.  
But once again, such Answers are not heard every day; and for my part, very far from wondering or thinking strange, that persons of this degree should not have the Merit which is duo unto them, I rather think it strange, that they do not reason as Caligula did, and that our blind submission to their unreasonable desires should raise their Presumption unto the highest extravagance, Seeing those that conduct droves of Cattle (said the fool) are not beasts like themselves, 
Philo. in his Ambass.  but are of a more excellent nature; is it not just, that those which command so absolutely over men, and whom all others obey, should be more than men, like those over whom they command?  
This is the effect our flattery does naturally produce in the Spirit of Princes, and it is what frequently happened for the most part in the times of Papanism. But if our holy Religion does not allow of these apotheosis, yet it does so well establish the absolute Authority of Princes, that it is much easier for them to offend in this regard, than it was heretofore to those deified Kings and Emperors.  
Although Caesarion had done speaking, I was so concerned at what he said, that I fancied I still heard him; his discourse seemed so strange to me, and withal so apparent, that I knew not what judgement to make of it. On one hand I had much difficulty to disuse myself from admiring the condition of Princes, whom I always heard called Gods upon earth; on the other hand I could not deny the weakness' which he demonstrated they were inclined to. But at length, truth carrying a kind of Majesty with it, which no prejudice is able to resist, I could not avoid being of his judgement; and in this manner, with as great pleasure as good fortune, I divested myself of the strong opinion I sucked in, in my youth.  
At this rate, replied I at length, having paused a while, the condition of Kings is a deplorable state; to judge rightly of it, there's no state more miserable, said Caesarion, and which deserves more pity; and it is whereof we ought to be well persuaded when we go to Court. On the contrary, answered I, methinks this persuasion seems to discourage us from engaging at all at Court: you are much mistaken, said he. A Courtier that looks upon greatness with such an eye, not as a sovereign Good, but as a Good whose consequences are commonly attended with error and ignorance, will not be so easily agitated with those disorderly and furious desires of attaining them, which trouble the mind in the same degree as it excites it, which makes a man take ill measures, and inspires him with rashness and folly. Ambition thrusts him forwards barefaced, it does not transport him beyond himself with joy nor grief at the appearance of frowns or smiles; it does not make him, through greediness or impatience, guilty of any false step, which may without necessity oblige him to discover his designs, and which may render him ridiculous if he should not succeed in them: There appears nothing but what is decent, equal, and moderate in all his deal. If he does not arrive at some great fortune by these means, yet at least he exposes not himself much, and 'tis no disgrace not to obtain, what he does not very eagerly pursue.  
Indeed a man of this temper may be a Courtier all days of his life; he considers it as a School, where he must go to receive his Master's directions, and not as an employment. If he seeks his Prince's favour, it is that he might be serviceable to him, either to make Religion flourish amongst his Subjects, or to defend them from their Enemies, or to see that they have Justice done them. But not to do any thing all his life, but gaze at a man, and to seek all occasions to show himself, he would not think all the Riches and Honour in the World worth he getting, by such an idle dissembling sort of life.  
Not but that he likes Riches, and approves of Honour and Glory, and will spare no just means to attain them; it is because he thinks not that true Glory, which is attained by these ways. It may be offered to him at a rate that he thinks unreasonable; he knows what to lay out before he cheapens it, he will give for it no more than 'tis worth, and if it be ovevalued, he will not disparage it, but thinks he should be counted a fool to buy it at too dear a rate.  
And do not think, that 'tis out of any disrespect or aversion for Princes that he is of this opinion, or because he thinks them to be unfortunate and corrupt. The faults, which would deserve his hatred in private persons, only excite his pity towards Princes; and as it is the most active of all the Passions in a generous soul, it inclines him naturally to assist them, and not to shun and abandon them to the mercy of Cheats and Flatterers; he satisfies himself in using all honest ways and means to procure their favour and good liking, that they may see the need of having such as him near them: If they were duly informed, they would spare no cost of employing such in their service, for he excuseth in them a thousand things, which those that envy them do condemn: He saith, that it would not be only unjust, but also inhuman to reproach them with defects, which are almost inseparable from their quality; very far from that dark, black and malicious spite, mixed with indignation and envy, where with most of them that approach their persons be infected; he bears to them the pity and tenderness that a Father doth to his Child before it attains the age of discretion: And the care of a tender Physician to his sick Patient, whose soul sympathises with the sickness of his Patient's body: He has always this great truth in his mind, that he should perhaps be more frail than they, were he raised to the same Eminency: By this noble consideration, he bears from them what he would not from any else; he persists in serving them when all others forsake them; he prays for them when all the World doth curse them, and without trouble renders them the Religious respect which all Laws give unto them; he bears always in mind the the saying of the ancient Poet, 
Senec. Epig. 41. de Exilio suo.  Res est Sacra Miser.  
It was Sun set, when Caesarion had ended this Discourse: I cannot describe the impressions it made on my mind, and I did not perfectly understand it, but by the use I since made of it. I only remember that going afterwards to walk in a Garden, that fronted his House, to take the fresh air; I was so concerned, that I could not speak a word all that Evening, nor do any thing but look at him, as if I had never seen him before: Any body besides him would have perceived it with pleasure, and would have let me gone on in my folly, but he laughed at me as soon as ever he perceived it: Whether it was by nature, or by much study, he was wholly insensible of the pleasure that self-love usually affords. He confessed to me afterwards in our familiar meetings and discourses, that this indifferency proceeded from the continual experience he had of his own defects, and the impossibility he found to prevent them; that they were odious to him, and no less present in his thoughts, than his good Qualities, although perhaps less discerned by the World; that it may be every man might say so much of himself, would they make a diligent scrutiny; but most did not trouble themselves in examining their thoughts as strictly as he did, wherein he knew not if he deserved be envied or to be pitied. If it were not to be happy to be in this temper of mind, it was at least to be prudent and discreet, and you have as great cause to lament surviving so rare a friend, as I have of retaining in my mind a tender and religious Remembrance of his admirable great Learning and Wisdom.  
The End of the Fourth Day.