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THE 
 
 BEAUTIES 
 
 PLUTARCH; 
 
 CONSISTING OF 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM HIS WORKS 
 
 BY ALFRED HOWARD, ESQ. 
 
 BOSTON I 
 
 PUBLISHED BY FREDERIC S. HILL 
 NO. 7, WATER-STREET. 
 
 1831. 
 
 Jenkins fy Greenought Stereotypers* 
 
 ' 
 

THE 
 
 BEAUTIES 
 
 OF 
 
 PLUTARCH. 
 
PLUTARCH. 
 
 AGESJLAUS AND POMPEY (JOMPARED. 
 
 Such is the account we had to give of the lives of 
 these two great men ; and in drawing up the parallel 
 we shall previously take a short survey of the differ- 
 ence in their character. 
 
 In the first, place, Pompey rose to power, and 
 established his reputation, ( by just and laudable 
 means ; partly by the strength of his own genius, 
 and partly by his services to Sylla, in freeing Italy 
 from various attempts at despotism. Whereas 
 Agesiiaus came to the throne by methods equally 
 immoral and irreligious ; for it was by accusing 
 Leotychidas of bastardy, whom his brother had 
 acknowledged as his legitimate son, and by eluding 
 the oracle relative to a lame king. 
 
 In the next place, Pompey paid all due respect to 
 Sylla during his life, and took care to see his remains 
 honourably interred, notwithstanding the opposition 
 it met with from Lepidus ; and afterwards he gave 
 his daughter to Faustus, the son of Sylla. On the 
 other hand, Agesiiaus shook off Lysander upon a 
 
6 PLUTARCH. 
 
 slight pretence, and treated him with great indignity. 
 Yet the services Pompey received from Sylla were not 
 greater than those he had rendered him ; whereas 
 Agesilaus was appointed king of Sparta by Lysan- 
 der's means, and afterwards captain-general of Greece. 
 
 In the third place, Pompey 's offences against the 
 t laws and the constitution were principally owing to 
 his alliances, to his supporting either Caesar or Scipio 
 {whose daughter he had married) in their unjust de- 
 mands. Agesilaus not only gratified the passion of 
 his son, by sparing the life of Sphodrias, whose death 
 ought to have atoned for the injuries he had done 
 the Athenians, but he likewise screened Phoebidas, 
 who was guilty of an egregious infraction of the 
 league with the Thebans, and it was visibly for the 
 sake of his crime that he took him into his protec- 
 tion. In short, whatever troubles Pompey brought 
 upon the Romans, either through ignorance or a tim- 
 orous complaisance for his friends, A-gesilaus brought 
 as great distresses upon the Spartans, through a spirit 
 of obstinacy and resentment ; for such was the spirit 
 that kindled the Boeotian war. 
 
 If, when we are mentioning their faults, we may 
 take notice of their fortune, the Romans could have 
 no previous idea of that of Pompey ; but the Lacedae- 
 monians were sufficiently forewarned of the danger 
 of a lame reign, and yet Agesilaus would not suffer 
 them to a\ail themselves of that warning. Nay, sup- 
 posing Leotychidas a mere stranger, and as much a 
 bastard as he was, yet the family of Eurytion could 
 easily have supplied Sparta with a king who was 
 neither spurious nor maimed, had not Lysander been 
 industrious enough to render the oracle obscure for 
 the sake of Agesilaus. 
 
PLUTARCH. 7 
 
 As to their political talents, there never was a finer 
 measure than that of Agesilaus, when, in the distress 
 of the Spartans how to proceed against the fugitives 
 after the battle of Leuctra, he decreed that the laws 
 should be silent for that day. We have nothing of 
 Pompey's that can possibly be compared to' it. On 
 the contrary, he thought himself exempted from ob- 
 serving the laws he had made, and that his trans- 
 gressing them showed his friends his superior power ; 
 whereas Agesilaus, when under the necessity of con- 
 travening the laws, to save a number of citizens, 
 found out an expedient which saved both the laws 
 and the criminals. I must also reckon among his 
 political virtues Ms inimitable behaviour upon the 
 receipt of the scytale, which ordered him to leave 
 Asia in the height of his success. For he did not, 
 like Pompey, serve the commonwealth only in affairs 
 which contributed to his own greatness ; the good of 
 his country was his great object, and, with a view to 
 that, he renounced such power and so much glory as 
 no man had either before or after him, except Alex- 
 ander the Great. 
 
 If we view them in another light, and consider 
 vtheir military performances, the trophies which Pom- 
 pey erected were so numerous, the armies he led so 
 powerful, and the pitched battles he won so extraor- 
 dinary, that I suppose Xenophon himself would not 
 compare the victories of Agesilaus with them ; though 
 that historian, on account of his other excellencies , 
 has been indulged the peculiar privilege of saying 
 what he pleased of his hero. 
 
 There was a difference too, I think, in their beha- 
 viour to their enemies in point of equity and modera- 
 tion. Agesilaus was bent upon enslaving Thebes^ 
 
W PLUTARCH, 
 
 and destroyed Messene ; the former the city front 
 which his family sprung^ the latter Sparta's siste* 
 eolony ; and in the attempt he was near raining 
 Sparta^ itself. On the other hand, Pompey, after he 
 had conquered the pirates, bestowed cities on such as 
 were willing to change their way of life ;«and when 
 he might have led T igranes, king of Armenia, captive 
 at the wheels of his chariot, he rather chose to make 
 \\im an ally, on which occasion he made use of that 
 memorable expression, " I prefer the glory that will 
 last for ever to that of a day." 
 
 But if the pre-eminence in military virtue is to be 
 decided by such actions and counsels as are most 
 characteristical of the great and wise commander, we 
 shall find that the LacedsBirionian leaves the Ro- 
 man far behind. In the first place, he never aban- 
 doned his city, though it was besieged by seventy 
 thousand men, while he had but a handful of men to 
 oppose them with, and those lately defeated in the 
 battle of Leuctra. But Pompey, upon Caesar's ad- 
 vancing with five thousand three hundred men only, 
 and taking one little town in Italy, left E,ome in a 
 panic ; either meanly yielding to so trifling a force, 
 or failing in his intelligence of their real numbers. In 
 his flight he carried off his own wife and children, 
 but he left those of the other citizens in a defenceless 
 state, when he ought either to have stayed and con- 
 quered for his country, or to have accepted such con- 
 ditions as the conqueror might impose, who was both 
 his fellow-citizen and his relation. A little while 
 before he thought it insupportable to prolong the 
 term of his commission, and to grant him another 
 consulship ; and now he suffered him to take posses- 
 sion of the city; and to tell Metellus, cc That heg|on- 
 
PLUTARCH. 
 
 adered him, and all the other inhabitant^, as his pris- 
 
 oners. 
 
 If it is the principal business of a general to know- 
 how to bring the enemy to a battle when he is 
 stronger, and how to avoid being compelled to one 
 when he is weaker, iVgesilaus understood th^t rule 
 perfectly well, and, by observing it, continued always 
 invincible. But Pompey could never take Caesar at 
 a disadvantage ; on the contrary, he suffered Caesar to 
 take the advantage of him, by being brought to haz- 
 ard all in an action at land. The consequence of 
 which was, that Caesar became master of his treas- 
 ures, his provisions, and the sea itself, when he might 
 hav§ preserved them all, had he known how to avoid 
 a battle. 
 
 As for the apology that is made for Pompey in 
 this case, it reflects the greatest dishonour upon a 
 general of his experience. If a young officer had 
 been so much dispirited and disturbed by the tumults 
 and clamours among his troops, as to depart from 
 his better judgment, it would have been pardonable. 
 But for Pompey the Great, whose camp the Romans 
 called their country, and whose tent their senate, 
 while they gave the name of rebels and traitors, to 
 those who stayed and acted as praetors and consuls in 
 Rome ; for Pompey, who had never been known to 
 serve as a private soldier, but had made all his cam- 
 paigns with the greatest reputation as general ; for 
 such a one to be forced by the scoffs of Favonius and 
 Domitius-, and the fear of being called ^gamemnon> 
 to risk the fate of the whole empire and of liberty 
 upon the cast of a single die — who can bear it ? If 
 he dreaded only present infamy, he ought to have 
 made a stand at first, and to have fought for the city 
 1* 
 
IX) PLUTARCH. 
 
 of Rome : and not, after calling his flight a manoeuvre 
 of Themistocles, to look upon the delaying a battle 
 in Thessaly as a dishonour. For the gods had not 
 appointed the fields of Pharsalia as the lists in which 
 he was to contend for the empire of Rome, nor was 
 he sunfcnoned by a herald to make his appearance 
 there, or otherwise forfeit the palm to another. There 
 
 ; were innumerable plains and cities ; nay, his com- 
 mand of the sea left the whole earth to his choice, had 
 he been determined to imitate* Maximus, Marius, or 
 Lucullus, or Agesilaus himself. 
 
 Agesilaus certainly had no less tumults to encoun- 
 ter in Sparta, when the Thebans challenged him to 
 come out and fight for his dominions : nor were the 
 calumnies and slanders he met with in Egypt from 
 the madness of the king less grating, when he ad- 
 vised that king to lie still for a time. Yet by pur- 
 suing the sage measures he had first fixed upon, he> 
 not only saved the Egyptians in spite of themselves, 
 but kept Sparta from sinking in the earthquake that 
 threatened her ; nay, he erected there the best trophy 
 imaginable against the Thebans ; for by keeping the 
 Spartans from their ruin, which they were so obsti- 
 nately bent upon, he put it in their power to conquer 
 afterward. Hence it was that Agesilaus was praised 
 by the persons whom he had saved by violence, and 
 Pompey who committed an error in complaisance to ' 
 it. Some say, indexed, that he was deceived by his 
 
 - father-in-law, Scipio, who, wanting to convert to his 
 own use the treasures he had brought from Asia, had 
 concealed them for that purpose, and* hastened the 
 action under the pretence that the supplies would 
 jsoon fail. But, supposing that true, a general should 
 mi have suffered himself to be so easily deceived, nor 
 
PLUTARCH. II 
 
 in consequence of being so deceived, have hazarded 
 the loss of all. Such are the principal strokes that 
 mark their military characters. ' 
 
 As to their voyages to Egypt, the one fled thither 
 out of necessity ; the other, without any necessity or 
 sufficient cause, listed himself in the service of a bar- 
 barous prince, to raise a fund for carrying on the war 
 with the Greeks. So that if we accuse the Egyptians 
 for their behaviour, to Pompey, the Egyptians blame 
 Agesilaus as much for his behaviour to them. The 
 one was betrayed by those in whom he put his trust. : 
 the other was guilty of a breach of trust, in deserting 
 those whom he went to support, and going over to- 
 then enemies. 
 
 AGIS AND CLEOMENES COMPARED WITH 
 TIBERIUS AND CAIUS GRACCHUS. 
 
 Thus we have given the history of these great men 
 severally, and it remains that we take a view of them 
 in comparison with each other. Those who hated 
 the Gracchi, and endeavoured the most to disparage 
 them, never durst deny, that of all the Romans of " 
 their time, nature had disposed them most happily to 
 virtue, or that this disposition was' cultivated by the 
 most excejlent education. But nature appears to 
 have done still more for Agis and Cleomenes ; for 
 though they not only wanted the advantages of edu- 
 cation, but were trained to such manners and customs 
 as had corrupted many before them, yet they became 
 examples of temperance and sobriety. 
 
 Besides, the Gracchi lived at a time when Rome 
 was in her greatest glory ; a time that was distin- 
 guished by a virtuous emulation ; and of course they 
 must have had a natural aversion to give up the inher- 
 
12 / PLUTARCH. 
 
 itance of virtue which they had received fr6m their 
 ancestors. Whereas Agis and Cleomenes had had 
 / parents of very different principles, and found their 
 j country in a very diseased and unhappy state ; and 
 I yet these things did not in the least abate their ardour 
 I in the pursuits of honour. 
 
 3 We have a strong proof of the disinterested views 
 j ^ of the Gracchi, and their aversion to avarice, in their 
 ^keeping themselves clear of all iniquitous practices in 
 the whole course of their administration. But Agis 
 might even have resented it, if any one had com- 
 mended him for not touching the property of others* 
 /since he distributed his whole substance among the 
 / citizens of Sparta, which, besides other considerable 
 / articles, consisted of six hundred talents in money. 
 What a crime then must unjust gain have appeared 
 to him, who thought it nothing less than avarice to 
 possess more than others,, though by the fairest title ! 
 If we consider them with respect to the hardiness 
 of their enterprises, and the new regulations they 
 wanted to establish, we shall find the two Grecians 
 greatly superior. One of the two Romans applied 
 himself principally to making roads and colonizing 
 towns. The boldest attempt of Tiberius was the dis- 
 - tribution of the public lands ; and Caius /lid nothing 
 more extraordinary than the joining an equal number 
 of the equestrian order in commission with the three 
 hundred patrician judges. 
 
 The alterations which Agis and Cleomenes brought 
 into the system of their commonwealth were of a 
 different nature. They saw a small and partial 
 amendment was no better, as Plato expresses it, than 
 the cutting off one of the hydra's heads, and there- 
 fore they introduced a change that might remove all 
 
PLTJTARCH. 13 
 
 the distempers of the constitution at once. Perhaps 
 we may express ourselves with more propriety, if we 
 say that, by removing the changes that had caused 
 all their misfortunes, they brought Sparta back to its 
 first principles. 
 
 Possibly it may not be amiss to add, that the mea- 
 sures the Gracchi adopted were offensive to the great- 
 est men in Rome ; whereas all that Agis meditated, 
 and Cleomenes brought to bear, had the best and 
 most respectable authorities to support it ; I mean 
 the sanction of Lycurgus or Apollo* 
 
 What is s|ill more considerate, by the political 
 measures of the Gracchi, Rome made not the least 
 acquisition of power or territory ; whereas, through 
 those of Cleomenes, Greece saw the Spartans in a 
 little time become masters of Peloponnesus, and con- 
 tending for superiority with the most powerful princes 
 of that age ; and this without any other view than to 
 deliver Greece from the incursions of the Illyrians 
 and Gauls, and put her once more under the protec- 
 tion of the race of Hercules. 
 
 The different manner of the deaths of these great 
 men appears also to me to point out a difference in 
 their characters. The Gracchi fought with their fel- 
 low-citizens, and being defeated, perished in their 
 flight. Agis, on the other hand, fell almost a volun- 
 tary sacrifice, rather than that any Spartan should lose 
 his life on bis account Cleomenes, when insulted 
 and oppressed, had recourse to vengeance ; and, as 
 circumstances did not favour him, had courage enough 
 to give himself the fatal blow. 
 
 If we view them in another light, Agis never dis- 
 tinguished himself as a general ; for he was killed 
 before he had an opportunity of that kind ; and with 
 
14 PLUTARCH. 
 
 the many great and glorious victories of Cleomenes, 
 we may compare the memorable exploit of Tiberius, 
 in being the first to scale the walls of Carthage, and 
 his saving twenty thousand Romans, who had no 
 other hope of life, by the peace which he happily con- 
 cluded with the Numantians. As for Caius, there - 
 were many instances of his military talents both in the 
 Numantian war and in Sardinia,. So that the two 
 brothers would probably one day have been ranked 
 with the greatest generals among the Romans, had 
 they not come to an untimely death. 
 
 As to their 'political abilities, Agis seems to have 
 wanted firmness and despatch. He suffered himself 
 to be imposed upon by Agesilaus, and performed not 
 his promise to the citizens of making a distribution of 
 lands. He was, indeed, extremely young, and on 
 that account had a timidity which prevented the com- 
 pletion of those schemes that had so much raised the 
 expectation of the public. Cleomenes, on the con- 
 trary, took too bold and too violent a method to ef- 
 fectuate the changes he had resolved on in the police 
 of Sparta. It was an act of injustice to put the 
 ephori to death, whom he might either have brought 
 over to his party by force, because he was superior in 
 arms, or else have banished, as he difi many others. 
 For to have recourse to the knife, except in cases of 
 extreme necessity, indicates neither the good physi- 
 cian nor the able statesman, but unskilfuiness in both. 
 Besides, in politics that ignorance is always attend- 
 ed with injustice and cruelty. But neither of the 
 Gracchi began the civil war, or dipped his hands in 
 the blood of his countrymen. Caius, we are told, 
 even when attacked, did not repel force with force ; 
 and, though none behaved with greater courage and 
 
PLUTARCH. , 15 
 
 vigour than lie in other wars, none was so slow to lift 
 up* his hand against a fellow-citizen. He went out 
 unarmed to a scene of fury and sedition ; when the 
 fiaht began he retired ; and, through the whole, ap- 
 peared more solicitous to avoid the doing of harm 
 than the receiving it. The flight therefore of the 
 Gracchi must not be considered as an act of cowar- 
 dice, but patriotic discretion. For they were under 
 a necessity either of taking tne method they did, or 
 of fighting in their own defence if they, stayed. 
 
 The strongest charge against Tiberius is, that he 
 deposed his colleague, and sued for a second tribune- 
 ship. Caius was blamed for the death of Antyllius, 
 but against all reason and justice ; for the fact was 
 committed without his approbation, and he looked 
 upon it as a most unhappy circumstance. On the 
 other hand, Cleomenes, not to mention any more 
 his destroying the ephori, took an unconstitutional 
 step in enfranchising all the. slaves ; and, in reality, 
 he reigned alone, though, to save appearances, he 
 took in his brother Euclidas as a partner in the 
 throne, who was not Gf the other family that claimed 
 a right to give one of the kings to Sparta. -Archida- 
 mus, who was of that family, and had as much right 
 to the throne, he persuaded to return from Messene. 
 In consequence of this he was assassinated ;* and, as 
 Cleomenes made no inquiry into the murder, it is 
 probable that he was justly censured as the cause of 
 it Whereas Lycurgus, whom he pretended to take 
 as his pattern, freely surrendered to his nephew Cha- 
 rilaus the kingdom committed to his charge ; and 
 that he might not be blamed in case of his untimely 
 death, he went abroad and wandered a long time in 
 foreign countries ; nor did he return tiirCharilaus had 
 
16 . PLUTARCH. 
 
 a son to succeed him in the throne. It is true, Greece 
 had not produced any other man who can be com 
 pared to Lycurgus. 
 
 We have shown that Cleomenes, in the course of 
 his government, brought in greater innovations, and 
 committed more violent acts of injustice. And those 
 that are inclined to censure the persons of whom we 
 are writing represent Cleomenes as, from the first, of 
 a tyrannical disposition and a lover of war. The 
 Gracchi they accuse of Immoderate ambition, malig- 
 nity itself not being able to find anjj other flaw in 
 them. At the same time they .acknowledge that 
 those tribunes might possibly be carried beyond the 
 dictates of their native disposition by anger, and the 
 heat of contention, which, like so many hurricanes, 
 drove them at last upon some extremes in their admin- 
 istration. What could be more just or meritorious 
 than their first design, to which they would have ad- 
 hered, had not the rich and great, by t the violent 
 methods they took to abrogate their law, involved 
 them both in those fatal quarrels ; the one to defend 
 himself, and the other to revenge his brother, who 
 was taken off without any form of law and justice. 
 
 From these observations you may easily perceive 
 the difference between them ; and, if you required 
 me to characterize each of them singly, I should say 
 that the palm of virtue belongs to Tiberius ; young 
 Agis had the fewest faults ; and Caius, in point of 
 courage and spirit of enterprise, was little inferior to 
 Cleomenes. 
 
'PLUTARCH- *I7 
 
 ALCIBIADES AND COEIOLANUS COMPARED, 
 
 Having now given a detail of all the actions of 
 these two great men that we thought worthy to be 
 known and remembered, we may perceive at .one 
 .glance that as to their military exploits the balance is 
 nearly even. • For both gave extraordinary proofs of 
 courage as soldiers, and of prudence and capacity 
 as commanders-in-chief : though perhaps some may 
 think Alcibiades the more complete general on ac- 
 count of his many successful expeditions at sea as 
 well as land. But this is common- to both, that when 
 they had the command, and fought in person, the 
 affairs of their country infallibly prospered, and as in- 
 fallibly declined when they went over to the enemy. 
 
 As to their behaviour in point of government, if 
 the licentiousness of Alcibiades, and his compliances 
 with 'the humour of the populace, were abhorred by 
 the wise and sober part of the Athenians ; the proud 
 and forbidding manner of Coriolanus, and his exces- 
 sive attachment to the patricians, were equally de- 
 tested by the Roman people. In this respect, there- 
 fore, neither of them is to be commended ; though 
 he that avails himself of popular arts,, and shows too 
 much indulgence, is less blamabl* than he who, to 
 avoid the imputation of obsequiousness, treats the 
 people with severity. It is, indeed, a disgrace to 
 attain to power by flattering them ; but on the other 
 hand, to pursue it by acts of insolence and oppression 
 is not only shameful, but unjust. 
 
 That Coriolanus had an openness and simplicity of 
 manners is a point beyond dispute, whilst Alcibiades 
 was crafty and dark in the proceedings o£ his ad- 
 
18 . PLUTARCH. 
 
 ministration. The latter has been most blamed for 
 the trick which he put upon the Lacedaemonian am- 
 bassadors, as Thucydides tells us, and by which he 
 renewed the war. Yet this stroke of policy, though it 
 plunged Athens again in war, rendered the alliance 
 with the Mantineans and Argives, which was brought 
 about by Alcibiades, much stronger and more re- 
 spectable. But was not Coriolanus chargeable with 
 a falsity too, when, as Dionysius informs us, he 
 stirred up 'the Romans against the Volscians, by 
 loading the latter with an infamous calumny, when 
 they went to see the public games ? The cause, too, 
 makes this action the more criminal : for it was not 
 by ambition or a rival spirit in politics that he was in- 
 fluenced, as Alcibiades was ; but he did it to gratify 
 his anger, " a passion which," as Dion says, " is 
 ever ungrateful to its votaries." By this means 
 they disturbed all Italy, and in his quarrel with his 
 country destroyed many cites which had never done 
 him any injury. Alcibiades, indeed, was the author of 
 many evils to the Athenians, but was easily reconciled 
 to them, when he found that they repented. Nay, 
 when he was driven a second time into exile, he could 
 not bear with patience the blunders committed by the 
 new generals, nor see with indifference the dangers to 
 which they were exposed : but observed the same 
 conduct which Aristides is so highly extolled for with 
 respect to Themistocles. He went in person to those 
 generals, who, he knew, were not his friends, and 
 showed them what steps it was proper for them to 
 take. Whereas Coriolanus directed his revenge 
 against the whole Commonwealth, though he had not 
 been injured by the whole, but the best and most re- 
 spectable part both suffered and sympathised with him. 
 
PLUTARCH. 19 
 
 And afterwards, when the Romans endeavoured to 
 make satisfaction for that single grievance by many- 
 embassies and much submission, he was not in the 
 least pacified or won ; but showed himself determined 
 to prosecute a cruel war, not in order to procure his re- 
 turn to his native country, but to conquer and to ruin 
 it. It may, indeed, be granted, that there was this 
 difference in the case : Alcibiades returned to the 
 Athenians, when the Spartans, who both feared and 
 hated him, intended to despatch him privately. But 
 it was not so honourable in Coriolanus to desert the 
 Volscians, who had treated him with the utmost 
 kindness, appointed him general with full authority, 
 and reposed in him the highest confidence : very dif- 
 ferent in this respect from Alcibiades, who was abus- 
 ed, to their own purposes, rather than employed and 
 trusted by the Lacedaemonians ; and w T ho, after hav- 
 ing been tossed about in their city and their camp, 
 was at last obliged to put himself in the hands of 
 . Tissaphernes, But, perhaps, he made his court to 
 the Persian in order to prevent the utter ruin of his 
 country, to which he was desirous to return. 
 
 History informs us, that Alcibiades often took 
 bribes, 'which he lavished again with equal discredit 
 upon his vicious pleasures ; while Coriolanus' refused 
 to receive even what the generals he served under 
 w r ould have given him with honour. Hence the be- 
 haviour of the latter was the more detested by the 
 people in the disputes about debts ; since it was not 
 . with a view to advantage, but out of contempt and 
 by way of insult, as they thought, that he bore so 
 hard upon them. 
 
 Antipater, in one of his epistles, where he speaks of 
 the death of Aristotle the philosopher, tells us, " That 
 
20 PLUTARCH, 
 
 great man, besides his other extraordinary talents, 
 had the art of insinuating himself into the affections 
 of those he con versed with. ' ' For want of this talent, 
 the great actions and virtues of Coriolanus were 
 odious even to those who received the benefit of 
 them, and who, notwithstanding, could not endure 
 " that austerity, which, as Plato says, " is the com- 
 panion of solitude." But as Alcibiades, on the other 
 hand, knew how to treat those with whom he, con- 
 versed with an engaging civility, it is no wonder 'if 
 the glory of his exploits flourished in the favour and 
 honourable regard of mankind, since his very faults 
 had sometimes their grace and elegance. Hence it 
 was, that though his conduct was often very preju- 
 dicial to Athens, yet he was frequently appointed 
 commander-in-chief ; while Coriolanus, after many 
 great achievements, with the best pretensions, sued 
 for the consulship and lost it. The former deserved to 
 be hated by his countrymen, and was not ; the latter 
 was not beloved, though at the same time he was 
 admired. 
 
 We should, moreover, consider, that Coriolanus 
 performed no considerable services, while he com- 
 manded Jhe armies of his country, though for the ene- 
 my against his country he did ; but that Alcibiades, 
 both as a soldier and general, did great things for the 
 Athenians. When amongst his fellow-citizens Alcibi- 
 ades was superior to all the attempts of his enemies, 
 though their calumnies prevailed against him in his 
 absence ; whereas Coriolanus was condemned by the 
 Romans, though present to defend himself ; and at 
 length killed by the Volscians, against all rights, in- 
 deed, whether human or divine ; nevertheless, he af- 
 forded them a colour for what they did, by granting 
 
PLUTARCH. 21 
 
 that peace to the entreaties of the women, which he 
 had refused to the application of the ambassadors ; 
 by that means leaving the enmity between the two 
 nations, and the grounds of the war entire, and losing 
 a very favourable opportunity for the Volscians. For 
 surely he would not have drawn off the forces without 
 the consent of those that committed them to his con- 
 duct, if he had sufficiently regarded his duty to them. 
 But if, without considering the Volscians in the 
 least, he consulted his resentment only in stirring up 
 "the war, and put a period to it again when that was 
 satisfied, he should not have spared his country on 
 his mother's account, but have spared her with it ; for 
 botrf his mother and wife made a part of his native 
 city which he was besieging. But inhumanly to re- 
 ject the application and entreaties of the ambassadors, 
 and the petition of the priests, and then to consent to 
 a retreat in favour of his mother, was not doing 
 . honour to his mother, but bringing disgrace upon his 
 country ; since, as if it was not worthy to be saved 
 for its own sake, it appeared to be saved only in 
 compassion to a woman. For the favour was invi- 
 dious, and so far from being engaging, that, in fact, 
 it savoured of cruelty, and consequently was unac- 
 ceptable to both parties. He retired without being 
 won by the supplications of those he was at war 
 with, and without consent o£ those for whom he un- 
 dertook it. The cause of all which was, the auste- 
 rity of his manners, his arrogance and inflexibility of 
 mind, things hateful enough to the people at all 
 times ; but, when united with ambition, savage and 
 intolerable. Persons of his temper, as if they had no 
 need of honours, neglect to ingratiate themselves with 
 the multitude, and yet are excessively chagrined when 
 
22. PLUTARCH. 
 
 those are denied them. It is true, neither Metellus 
 nor Aristides, nor Epaminondas, were pliant to the 
 people's humour, or could submit to flatter them ; 
 but then they had a thorough contempt of every- 
 thing that the people could either give or take away ; 
 and when they were banished, or on any other occa- 
 sion, miscarried in the suffrages, or were condemned 
 in large fines, they nourished no anger against their 
 ungrateful countrymen, but were satisfied with their 
 repentance, and reconciled to them at their request. 
 And, surely, he who is sparing in his assiduities to 
 the people can but with an ill grace think of reveng- 
 ing any slight he may suffer*; for extreme resentment, 
 in case of disappointment in a pursuit of hoViour 
 must be the effect of an extreme desire of it. - 
 
 Alcibiades, for his part, readily acknowledged, 
 that he was charmed with honours,- and that he was 
 very uneasy at being neglected ; and therefore he 
 endeavoured to recommend himself to those he had 
 to do with, by every engaging art. But the pride of 
 Coriolanus would not permit him to make his court 
 to those who were capable of conferring honours 
 upon him ; and at the same time his ambition filled 
 him with regret and indignation when they passed 
 him by. This, then, is the blamable part of his 
 character ; all the rest is great and glorious. In 
 point of temperance and disregard of riches, he is fit 
 to be compared with the. most illustrious examples 
 of integrity in Greece, and not with Alcibiades, 
 who, in this respect, was the most profligate of 
 men, and had the least regard for decency and 
 honour. 
 
PLUTARCH. 23 
 
 ANTIOCHUS AND STRATONICE. 
 
 Antiochus was violently- enamoured of the young 
 Stratonice, though she had a son by his father. His 
 condition was extremely unhappy.. He made the 
 greatest efforts to conquer his passion, but they were 
 of no avail. At last, considering that his desires were 
 of the most extravagant kind, that there was no pros- 
 pect of satisfaction for them, and that the succours 
 of reason entirely failed, he resolved in his despair to 
 rid himself of life, and bring it gradually to a period, 
 by neglecting all care of his person, and abstaining 
 from food ; for this purpose he made sickness his 
 pretence. His physician, Erasistratus, easily dicov-* 
 ered that his distemper was love ; but it was difficult., 
 to conjecture who was the object. In order to find it 
 out, he spent whole days in his chamber ; and when- 
 ever any beautiful person of either sex entered it, he 
 observed with great attention, not only his looks, but 
 every part and motion of the body which corresponds * 
 the most with the passions of the soul. When others 
 entered he was entirely unaffected, but when«Strato- 
 nice came in, as she often did, either alone or with 
 Seleucus, he showed all the symptoms described by 
 Sappho, the faltering voice, the burning blush, the 
 languid eye, the sudden sweat, the tumultuous pulse ; 
 and at length, the passion overcoming his spirits, a 
 deliquiwn and mortal paleness. 
 
 Erasistratus concluded from these tokens that the 
 prince was in love with Stratonice, and perceived that 
 he intended to carry the secret with- him to the grave. 
 He saw the difficulty of breaking the matter to Seleu- 
 cus ; yet, depending upon the affection which the 
 
24 PLUTARCH» 
 
 king had for his son, lie ventured one day to tell him, * 
 *< That the young man's disorder was love ; but love 
 for which there was no remedy." The king, quite 
 astonished, said, " How ! love for which there is no 
 remedy I" " It is certainly so," answered Erasistra- 
 tus, " for he is in-]ove with my wife." " What ! 
 Erasistratus !" said the king, " would you, who are 
 my friend, refuse to give up your wife to my son, 
 when you see us in danger of losing our only hope ? ' ' 
 "Nay, would you do such a thing," answered the 
 physician, " though you are his father, if he were in 
 love with Stratonice ?" "O my friend," replied 
 Seleucus, " how happy should I be, if either God or 
 man could remove his affections thither ! I would 
 give up my kingdom, so I could keep Antiochus." 
 He pronounced these words with so much emotion, 
 and such a profusion of tears, that Erasistratus took 
 him by the hand, and said, " Then there is no need 
 of Erasistratus.. You, sir, who are a father, a hus- 
 band, and a king, will be the best physician too for 
 your family." 
 
 Upon this, Seleucus summoned the people to meet 
 in full assembly, and told them it was his will and 
 pleasure that Antiochus should intermarry with 
 Stratonice, and that they should be declared king and 
 queen of the Upper Provinces. * { He belieVed, ' ' he 
 said, " that Antiochus, who was such an obedient 
 son, would not oppose his desire ; and if the princess 
 should oppose the marriage, as an unprecedented 
 thing, he hoped his friends would persuade her to 
 think, that what was agreeable to the king, and ad- 
 vantageous to the kingdom, was both just and ho- 
 nourable." Such is said to have been the cause of 
 the marriage between Antiochus and Stratonice. 
 
PLUTARCH. 25 
 
 ARISTIDES AND CATO COMPARED. 
 
 Having thus given a detail of the most memorable 
 actions of these great men, if we compare the whole 
 life of the one with that of the other, it will not be 
 easy to discern the difference between them, the eye 
 being attracted by so many striking resemblances. 
 But if we examine the several parts of their lives dis- 
 tinctly, as we do a poem or a picture, we shall find, 
 in the first place, this common to them both, that they 
 rose to high stations and great honour in their re- 
 spective commonwealths, not by the help of family 
 connexions, but merely by their own virtue and abi- 
 lities. It is true^ that when Aristides raised himself, 
 Athens was not in her grandeur, and the demagogues 
 and chief magistrates he had to deal with were men 
 of moderate and nearly equal fortunes. For estates of 
 the highest class were then only five hundred medim-* 
 ni ; of those of the second order, who were knights, 
 three hundred ; and of those of the third order, who 
 were called Zeugitce b two hundred. ButCato, from 
 a little village and a country life, launched into the 
 Roman government, as into a boundless ocean, at a 
 time when it was not conducted by the Curii, the 
 Fabricii, and Hostilii, nor received for its magistrates 
 and orators men of narrow circumstances who worked 
 with their own hands^from the plough and the spade, 
 but was accustomed to regard greatness of family, 
 opulence, distributions among the people, and servil- 
 ity in courting their favour ; for the Komans, elated j 
 with their power and importance, loved to humble 
 those who stood for the great offices of state. And it 
 was not the same thing to be rivalled by a Themi* 
 2 
 
26 PLUTARCH. 
 
 stocles, who was neither distinguished by birth nor 
 fortune (for he is said not to have been worth more 
 than three, or, at the most, five talents, when he first 
 applied himself to public affairs) , as to have to con- 
 test with a Scipio Africanus, a Servius Galba, or a 
 Q,uintius Flaminius, without any other assistance or 
 support but a tongue accustomed to speak with free- 
 dom in the cause of justice. 
 
 Besides, Aristides was only one among ten, that 
 commanded at Marathon and Platasa ; whereas Cato 
 was chosen one of the two consuls, from a number 
 of competitors, and one of the two censors, though 
 opposed by seven candidates, w4io were some of the 
 greatest and most illustrious men in Rome. 
 
 It should be observed, too, that Aristides was never 
 principal in any action ; for Miltiades had the chief 
 honour of the victory at Marathon ; Themistecles 
 of that at Salamis : and the palm of the important 
 day at Plataea, as Herodotus tells us, was adjudged 
 to Pausanias. Nay, even the second place was dis- 
 puted with Aristides by Sophanes, Aminias, Callima- 
 chus, and Cynsegirus, who greatly distinguished 
 themselves on that occasion. 
 
 On the other hand, Cato not only stood first in 
 courage and conduct, during his own consulate, and 
 in the war with Spain ; but when he acted at Ther- 
 mopylae only as a tribune, under the auspices of an- 
 other, he gained the glory of the victory ; for he it 
 was that unlocked the pass for*the Romans to rush 
 upon Antiochus, and that brought the war upon the 
 back of the king, who minded only what was before 
 him. That victory, which was manifestly the work 
 of Cato, drove Asia out of Greece, and opened the 
 passage for Scipio to that continent afterwards. 
 
PLUTARCH. 27 
 
 Both of them were equally victorious in war, but 
 Aristides miscarried in the administration, being ba- 
 nished and oppressed by the faction of Themistocles : 
 whilst Cato, though he had for antagonists almost ail 
 the greatest and most powerful men in Rome, who 
 kept contending with him even in his old age, like a 
 skilful wrestler, always held his footing. Often im- 
 peached before the people, and often the manager of 
 an impeachment, he generally succeeded in his pro- 
 secution of others, and was never condemned him- 
 self ; secure in- that bulwark of life, the defensive 
 and offensive armour of eloquence ; and to this, 
 much more justly than .to fortune, or his guardian 
 genius, we may ascribe his maintaining his dignity un- 
 blemished to the last. For Antipater bestowecj the 
 same encomium upon Aristotle the philosopher, in 
 what he wrote concerning him after his death, that, 
 among his other qualities, he had the very extraordi- 
 nary one of persuading people to whatever he pleased. 
 
 That the art of governing cities and common- 
 wealths is the chieC excellence of man admits not of a 
 doubt ; and «it is generally agreed, that the art of gov- 
 erning a family is no small ingredient in that excel- 
 lence. For a city, which is only a collection of fami- 
 lies, cannot be prosperous in the whole, unless the 
 families that compose it be flourishing and prosperous. 
 And Lycurgus, when jie banished gold and silver out 
 of Sparta, and gave the. citizens, instead of it, money 
 made of iron, that had been spoiled by the fire, did 
 not design to excuse them from attending to economy, 
 but only to prevent luxury, which is a tumour and in- 
 flammation caused by riches ; that every one might 
 have the greater plenty of the necessaries and con- 
 veniences of life. By this establishment of his, it ap- 
 
28 PLUTARCH. 
 
 pears, that he saw farther than any other legislator ; 
 since he was sensible that every society has more to 
 apprehend from its needy members than from the 
 rich. For this reason, Cato was no less attentive to 
 the management of his domestic concerns than to 
 that of public affairs : and he not only increased his 
 own estate, but became a guide to others in econ- 
 omy and agriculture, concerning which he collected 
 many useful rules. 
 
 But Aristides. by his indigence brought a disgrace 
 upon justice itself, as if it were the ruin and impov- 
 erishment of families, and a quality that is profitable 
 to any one rather than the owner. Hesiod, however, 
 has said a good deal to exhort us both -to justice 
 and economy, and inveighs against idleness as the 
 source of injustice. The same is well represented 
 by Homer* — 
 
 The culture of the field, which fills the stores 
 With happy harvests ; and domestic cares, 
 Which rear the smiling progeny, no charms 
 Could boast for me ; 'twas mine, to sail 
 The gallant ship, to sound the trump jof war, 
 To point the polish'd spear, and hurl the quivering 
 lance. 
 By which the poet intimates, that those who neglect 
 their own affairs generally support themselves by 
 violence and injustice. For what the physicians say 
 of oil, that used outwardly.it is beneficial, but per- 
 nicious when taken inwardly, is not applicable to the 
 just man ; nor is it true, that he is useful to others, 
 and unprofitable to himself and his family. The 
 politics of Aristides seem, therefore, to have been de- 
 
 * Odyss, L. iv, 
 
PLUTARCH. 29 
 
 fective in this respect, if it is true (as most writers 
 assert) , that he left not enough either for the portions 
 ofjiis daughters, or for the expenses of his funeral. 
 
 Thus CatoV family produced praetors and- consuls 
 to the fourth generation ; for his grandsons, and men- 
 children bore the highest offices : whereas, though 
 Aristides was one of the greatest men in Greece, yet 
 the most distressing poverty prevailing among his de- 
 scendants ; some of them were forced to get their 
 bread by showing tricks by sleight of hand, or telling 
 fortunes, and others to receive public alms, and not 
 one of them entertained a sentiment worthy of their 
 illustrious ancestor. 
 
 It is true, this point is liable to some dispute ; for 
 poverty is not dishonourable in itself, but only when 
 it is the effect of idleness, intemperance, prodigality, 
 and folly. And when, on the contrary, it is asso- 
 ciated with 'all the virtues, in the sober, the indus- 
 trious, the just, and valiant statesman, it speaks a 
 great and elevated mind. For an attention to little 
 things renders it impossible to do any thing that is 
 great ; nor can he provide for the wants of others, 
 whose own are numerous and craving. The great and 
 necessary provision for a statesman is, not riches, but 
 a contented mind, which requiring no superfluities for 
 itself, leaves a man at full liberty to serve the com- 
 monwealth. God is absolutely exempt from wants ; 
 and the virtuous man, in proportion as he reduces his 
 wants, approaches nearer to the Divine perfection. 
 For as a body well built for health needs nothing ex- 
 quisite, either in food or clothing, so a rational way 
 of living, and a well governed family, demand a very 
 moderate support. Our possessions, indeed, should 
 be proportioned to the use we" make of them : he that 
 
30 PLUTARCH, 
 
 amasses a great deal, and uses but little, is far from 
 being satisiied and happy in his abundance ; for if, 
 while he is solicitous to increase it, he has no desire 
 of those things which wealth can procure, he «is 
 foolish ; if he does desire them, and yet out of mean- 
 ness of spirit will not allow himself in their enjoy- 
 ment, he is miserable. 
 
 I would fain ask Cato himself this question, " If 
 riches are to be enjoyed, why, when possessed of a 
 great deal, did he plume himself upon being. satisfied 
 with a little ?" If it be a commendable thing, as in- 
 deed it is, to be contented with coarse bread, and such 
 wine as our servants and labouring people drink, and 
 not to covet purple and elegantly plastered houses, 
 then Aristides, Epaminondas, Manius Curius, and 
 Caius Fabricius were perfectly right, in neglecting to 
 acquire what they did not think proper to use. For 
 it was by no means necessary for a man whfl, like 
 Cato, could make a 'delicious meal on turnips, and 
 loved to boil them himself, while his wife baked the 
 ' bread, to talk so much about a farthing, and to write 
 by what means a man might soonest grow rich. In- 
 deed, simplicity and frugality are tha|L only great 
 things, when they free the mind from the desire of 
 superfluities and .the anxieties of care. Hence it was 
 that Aristides, in the trial of Callias, said, " It was 
 fit for none to be ashamed of poverty, but those that 
 were poor against their wills ; and that they who, 
 like him, were poor out of choice, might glory in it." 
 For it is ridiculous to suppose that the poverty of 
 Aristides was to be imputed to sloth, since he might, 
 without being guilty of the least baseness, have raised 
 ^imsejf to opulence, by the spoil of one barbarian, or 
 the plunder of one tent. ., But enough of this." 
 
PLUTARCH. 31 
 
 As to military achievements, those of Cato added 
 . but little to the Roman empire, which was already 
 very great ; whereas the battles of Marathon, Sakimis, 
 and Platsea, the most glorious and important actions 
 of the Greeks are numbered among those of Aristides. 
 And surely Antiochtts is not worthy to be mentioned 
 with Xerxes, nor the demolishing of the walls of the 
 Spanish towns with tht; destruction of-so many thou- 
 sands of barbarians both by sea and land. On these 
 , great occasions Aristides was inferior to none in real 
 service, but he left the glory and the laurels, as he 
 did 'the wealth, to others who had more need of 
 them, because he was above them. 
 
 I»do not blame Cato for perpetually boasting and 
 giving himself the- preference to others, though in one 
 of his pieces he says, " It is absurd for a man either 
 to commend or depreciate himself :" but I think the 
 man who is^ften praising himself not so complete in 
 virtue as the^nodest man who does not even want 
 others to praise him. For modesty is a very proper 
 ingredient in the mild and engaging manner necessary 
 for a statesman ; on the other hand, he who demands 
 any extraordinary respect is difficult to please, and 
 liable to envy. Cato was very subject to this fault, 
 and Aristides entirely free from it. For Aristides, 
 by co-operating with his enemy Themistocles in his 
 greatest actions, and being as it were a guard to him. 
 while he had the command, restored the affairs of 
 Athens : whereas Cato, by counteracting Scipio, had 
 well nigh blasted and ruined that expedition of his 
 against Carthage, which brought down Hannibal, 
 who till then was invincible. And he continued to 
 raise suspicions against him, and to persecute him with 
 calumnies, till at last he drove him out of Rome, and 
 
32 PLUTARCH, 
 
 got his brother stigmatized with the shameful crime 
 of .embezzling the public money. 
 
 As for temperance, which Cato always extolled as 
 the greatest of virtues, Aristides preserved it in its 
 utmost purity and perfection ; while Cato, by marry- 
 ing so much beneath himself, and at an unseasonable 
 time of life, stood justly -impeached in that respect. 
 For it was by no means decent, at his great age, to 
 bring home to his son and daughter-in-law a young- 
 wife, the daughter of his secretary, a man who receiv- 
 ed wages of the public. ■ Whether he did it merely to 
 gratify his appetite, or to revenge the affront which 
 his son put upon his favourite slave, both the cause 
 and the thing were dishonourable. And the reason 
 which he gave to his son was ironical and groundless. 
 For if he 'was desirous of having more children like 
 him, he should have looked out before for some wo- 
 man of family, and not. have put orTth#thoughts of 
 marrying again, till his commerce with so mean a 
 creature was discovered ; and when it was discovered, 
 he ought to have chosen for his father-in-law, not the 
 man who would most readily accept his proposals, but 
 one whose alliance would have done him the most 
 honour* 
 
 ATHENS DESERTED. 
 
 The embarkation of the people of Athens was a. 
 very affecting scene. What pity S what* admiration 
 of the firmness of those men, who, sending their pa- 
 rents and families to a distant place, unmoved with 
 their cries, their tear*, or embraces, had the fortitude 
 to leave the city, and embark for Salamis ! What 
 greatly heightened the distress was the number of 
 citizens whom they were forced to leave behind, be- 
 
PLUTARCH. 38 
 
 <cause of their extreme old age. And some emotions 
 of tenderness were due even to the tame domestic 
 animals, which, running to the shore, with lamentable 
 howlings, expressed their affection and regret for the 
 persons that had fed them. One of these, a dog that 
 belonged to Xanthippus, the father of Pericles, un- 
 willing to be left behind, is said to have leapt into the 
 sea, and to have swam by the side of the ship, till it 
 reached Salamis, where, quite spent with toil, it died 
 immediately. And they show us to this day a place 
 called Synos Svrna, where they tell us that dog was 
 buried. 
 
 BIRTH-PLACES. 
 
 Whoever it was, my Sossius, that wrote the enco- 
 mium upon Alcibiadesfor his victory in the chariot- 
 race at the Olympic games ; whether Euripides 
 (which is "the common opinion) , or some other, he as- 
 serts, that " The first requisite to happiness is, that. a 
 . man be born in a famous city. ' J But, as to real happi- 
 ness, which consists principally in the disposition and 
 habit of the mind, for my part I think it would make 
 no difference, though a man should be born in an in- 
 considerable town, or of a mother who had no advan- 
 tages either of size or beauty : for it is ridiculous to 
 suppose that Julius, a small town 1 in the isle of Ceos, 
 which is itself not great, and iEgina, which an Athe- 
 nian " wanted to have taken away, as an eyesore to 
 the Piraeus, " should give birth to good poets and 
 players*, and not be able to produce a man who 
 might attain the virtues of justice, Of contentment, and 
 of magnanimity. Indeed, those arts, which are to gain 
 
 * The poet Sintonides was of Ceos ; and Polus 
 the actor. was of iEgina. 
 
 2* 
 
34 . PLUTARCH. 
 
 the master of them considerable profit or honour, may 
 probably not flourish in mean and insignificant towns. 
 But virtue, like a strong and hardy plant, will take 
 root in any place where it can find an ingenuous na- 
 ture and a mind that has no aversion to labour and . 
 discipline. Therefore, if our sentiments or conduct 
 fall short of the point they ought to reach, we must 
 not impute it to the obscurity of the place where we 
 were born, but to our little selves. 
 
 These reflections, however, extend not to an au- 
 thor who would write a history of events which hap- 
 pened in a foreign country, and cannot be come at in 
 his own. As he has materials to collect from a variety 
 of books dispersed in different libraries, his first care 
 should be to take up his residence in some populous 
 town which has an ambition for literature. There he 
 will meet with many curious and valuable books ; 
 and the particulars that are wanting in writers he 
 may, upon inquiry, be supplied with by those who 
 have laid them up in the faithful repository of me- 
 mofy. This will prevent his work from being de- 
 fective in any material point. As to myself, I live 
 in a little town, and I choose to live there, test it 
 should become still less. When I was in Rome, and 
 other parts of Italy, I had not leisure to study the 
 Latin tongue, on account of the public commissions 
 with which I was charged, and the number of people 
 that came to be instructed by me in philosophy. It 
 was not, therefore, till a late period in life, that I 
 began to read the Roman authors. The process may 
 seem strange ; and yet it is very true. I did not so 
 much gain the knowledge of things by the words, as 
 words by the knowledge I hacPof things. I shall 
 only add, that, to attain such a skill in the language 
 
PLUTARCH. 35 
 
 as to be master of the beauty and fluency of its expres- 
 sions, with its figures, its harmony, and all the other 
 graces of its structure, would indeed be an elegant 
 and agreeable accomplishment.. But the practice 
 and pains it requires are more than I have time for, 
 and 1 must leave the ambition to excel in that walk 
 to younger men. • 
 
 HONOUR OF CAMILLUS. 
 
 . The Falerians, trusting to the fortifications with 
 which they were surrounded, made so little account 
 of the siege, that the inhabitants, except those who 
 guarded the walls, walked the streets in their common 
 habits. The boys too went to school, and the master 
 took them out to walk and exercise about the walls. 
 For the Falerians, like the Greeks, chose to have 
 their children bred at one public school, that they 
 might betimes be accustomed to the same discipline, 
 and form themselves to friendship and society. 
 
 This schoolmaster, then, designing to betray the 
 Falerians, by means of their children, took them 
 every day out of the city to exercise, Keeping pretty 
 close to the walls at first, and when their exercise was 
 over led them in again. By degrees he took them out 
 farther, accustoming them to divert themselves freely, 
 as if they had nothing, to fear. At last, having got 
 them all together, he brought them to the Roman ad- 
 vanced guard, and delivered them up to be carried 
 to Camillus. When he came into his presence, he 
 said, " He was the schoolmaster of Falerii, but pre- 
 ferring his favour to the obligations of duty, he came 
 to deliver up those children to him, and in them the 
 whole city." This action appeared very shocking to 
 Camillus, and he said to those that were by, " War 
 
36 PLUTARCH. 
 
 (at best) is a savage thing, and wades through a sea 
 of violence and injustice ; yet even war itself has its 
 laws, which men of hpnor will not depart from ; nor 
 do they so pursue victory, as to avail themselves of 
 acts of villainy and baseness. • For a great general 
 should only rely on his own virtue, and not upon the 
 treachery of others. ' ' Then he ordered the licturs 
 to tear off the wretch's clothes, to tie his hands be- 
 hind him, and furnish the boys with rods and scourges 
 to punish the traitor, and whip him into the city. 
 By this time the Falerians had discovered the school- 
 master's treason ; the city, as might be expected* 
 was full of lamentations for so great a loss, and the 
 principal inhabitants, both men and women, crowd- 
 ed about the walls and the gate like persons distract- 
 ed. Iri the midst of this disorder they espied the 
 boys whipping on their master, naked and bound, 
 and calling Camillus their god, their deliverer, their 
 father. Not only the parents of those children s but 
 all the citizens in general were struck with admira- . 
 tion at the spectacle, and conceived such an affec- • 
 tion for the justice of Camillus, that they immedi- 
 ately assembled in council^ and sent deputies to sur- 
 render to him both themselves and their city. 
 
 THE SAYINGS OF CATO THE CENSOR. 
 
 One day when the Romans clamored violently 
 and unseasonably for a distribution of corn, to dis- 
 suade them from it he thus began his address : " It 
 is a difficult task, my fellow-citizens, to speak to the 
 belly, because it hath no ears." Anothertime com- 
 plaining of, the luxury of the Romans, he said, " It 
 is a hard matter to save that city from ruin where a 
 fish was sold for more than an ox." On another oc- 
 
PLUTARCH. 37 
 
 casion, he Said, " The Roman people were like 
 sheep, for as those can scarce be brought to stir singly, 
 but all in a body readily follow their leaders, just such 
 are ye. The men whose counsel you would not take 
 as individuals, lead you with ease in a crowd." 
 Speaking of the power of women, he said, " All men 
 naturally govern the womenj we govern all men, and 
 our wives govern us. ' ' But this might be taken from 
 the Apophthegms of Themistocles. For, his son, di- 
 recting in most things through his mother, he said, 
 6i The Athenians govern the Greeks, I govern the 
 Athenians, you, wife, govern me, and your son gov- 
 erns you : let him then use that power with modera- 
 tion, which, child as he is, sets him above all the 
 Greeks." Another of Cato's sayings was, " That 
 the Roman people fixed the value, not only of the 
 several kinds of colours, but of the arts and sciences." 
 For, added he, " as the dyers dye that sort of purple 
 which is most agreeable to you, so our youth only 
 study and strive to excel in such things as you esteerri 
 and commend. ' ' Exhorting the people to virtue, he 
 said, " If it is by virtue and temperance that you are 
 become great, change not for the worse ; but if by 
 intemperance and vice, change for the better ; for 
 you are already great enough by such means as 
 these." Ofsuchaswere perpetually , soliciting for 
 great offices, he said, " Like men Who knew not 
 their way, they wanted lictbrs always to conduct 
 them." He found fault with the people for often 
 choosing the same persons consuls ; " You either," 
 said he, " think the consulate of little worth, or that 
 there are but few worthy of the consulate." Con- 
 cerning one of his enemies who led a very profligate 
 and infamous life, he said, u His mother takes it for a 
 
S8 t>LUTARCEt. 
 
 curse and not a prayer, when any one wishes this son, 
 may survive her. ' ' Pointing to a man who had sold a 
 paternal estate near the sea-side, he pretended to ad- 
 mire him, as one that was stronger than the sea itself ; 
 " For," said he, " what the sea could not have swal- 
 lowed without difficulty, this man has taken down 
 with all the ease imaginable." When king Eumenes 
 came to Rome, the senate received him with extraor- 
 dinary respect, and the great men strove which should 
 do him the most honour, but Cato visibly neglected 
 and shunned him. Upon which somebody said, 
 « Why do you shun Eumenes, who is so good a man, 
 and so great a friend to the Romans ?" " That may 
 be," answered Cato, " but I look upon a king as a 
 creature that feeds upon human flesh ; and of all the 
 kings that have been so much cried up, I find not one 
 to be compared with an Epaminondas, a Pericles, a 
 Themistocles, a Manius Curius, or with Hamilcar 
 surnamed B areas. ' ' He used to say, that his enemies 
 hated him, because he neglected his own concerns, 
 and rose before day to mind those of the public. But 
 that he had rather his good actions should go unre- 
 warded, than his bad ones unpunished ; and that he 
 pardoned every body's faults sooner than his own. 
 The Romans having sent three ambassadors to the 
 king of Bithynia, of whom one had the gout, another 
 had his skull trepanned, and the third was reckoned 
 little better than a fool, Cato smiled and said, " They 
 had sent an embassy which had neither feet,head, nor 
 heart." When Scipio applied to him, at the request 
 of Polybius, in behalf of the Achaean exiles, and the 
 matter was much canvassed in the senate, some 
 speaking for their being restored, and some against it, 
 Cato rose up, and said, " As if we had nothing else 
 
PLUTARCH, 39 
 
 to do, we sit here all day debating whether a few 
 poor old Greeks should be buried by our grave-diggers 
 or those of their own country. ' ' The senate then de- 
 creed, that the exiles should return home ; and Poly- 
 bius, some days after, endeavoured to procure another 
 meeting of that respectable body to restore those exiles 
 to their former honours in Achaia. Upon this aflair 
 he sounded Cato, who answered, smiling, " This was 
 just as if Ulysses should have wanted to enter the 
 Cyclops' cave again for a hat and a belt which he 
 had left behind. ' ? It was a saying of his, « < That wise 
 men learn more from fools, than fools from the wise ; 
 for the wise avoid the errors of fools, while fools do 
 not profit by the examples of the wise. ' ' Another of 
 his sayings was, " That he liked a young man that 
 blushed, more than one that turned pale : and that he 
 did not like a soldier who moved his hands in march- 
 ing, and his feet in fighting, and who snored louder 
 in bed than he shouted in battle." Jesting upon a 
 very fat man, he said, " Of what service to his coun- 
 try can such a body be, which is nothing but belly ? ' ' 
 When an epicure desired to be admitted into his friend- 
 ship, he said, " He could not live with a man whose 
 palate had quicker sensations than his heart," He 
 used to say, " The soul of a lover lived in the body 
 of another :" and that in all his life he never re- 
 pented .but of three things : the first was, that he had 
 trusted a woman with a secret ; the second, that he 
 had gone by sea, when he might have gone by land ; 
 and the third, that he had passed one day without 
 having a will by him. To an old debauchee, he said, 
 " Old age has deformities enough of its own : do not 
 add to it the deformity of vice." A tribune of the 
 people, who had the character of a poisoner, proposed 
 
40 PLUTARCH. 
 
 a bad law, and taking great pains to have it passed, 
 Cato said to him, " Young man, I know not which 
 is most dangerous, to drink what you mix, or to enact 
 what you propose. ' ' Being scurrilously treated by a 
 man who led a dissolute and infamous life, he said, 
 " It is upon very unequal terms that I contend with 
 you : for you are accustomed to be spoken ill of, and 
 can speak it with pleasure ; but with me it is un- 
 usual to hear it, and disagreeable to speak it." $uch 
 was the manner of his repartees and short sayings. 
 
 CATO THE YOUNGER AND PHOCION. 
 
 The effects of austerity were seen in the younger 
 Cato. There was nothing engaging or popular in his 
 behaviour ; he never studied to oblige the people, and 
 therefore his weight in the administration was not 
 great. Cicero says, " He acted as if he had lived in 
 the commonwealth of Plato, not in the dregs of Ro- 
 mulus, and by that means fell short of the consulate. '* 
 His case appears to me to have been the same with 
 that of fruit which comes out of season ; people look 
 upon it with pleasure and admiration, but they make 
 no use of it. Thus the old fashioned virtue of Cato, 
 making its appearance amidst the luxury and corrup- 
 tion which time had introduced, had all the splendour 
 of reputation which such a phenomenon could claim, 
 but it did not answer the exigencies of the state ; it 
 was disproportioned to the times, and too ponderous 
 and unwieldy for use. Indeed, his circumstances 
 were not altogether like those of Phocion, who came 
 not into the administration till the state was sinking ; 
 whereas Cato had only to save the ship beating about 
 in the storm. At the same time we must allow that he , 
 had not the principal direction of her ; he sat not at the [ 
 
iPLtJTARCIf. 4.1 
 
 helm ; he could do no more than help to hand the sails 
 and the tackle. Yet he maintained a noble conflict 
 with Fortune, who having determined to ruin the com- 
 monwealth, effected it by a variety of hands, but with 
 great difficulty, by slow steps and gradual advances. 
 So near was Rome being saved by Cato and Cato's 
 virtue ! With it we would compare that of Phocion : 
 not in a general manner, so as to say they were both 
 persons of integrity and able statesmen ; for there is a 
 difference between valour and valour, for instance, be- 
 tween that of Alcibiades and that of Epaminondas ; 
 the prudence of Themistocles and that of Aristides 
 were not the same ; justice was of one kind in Numa, 
 and in Agesilaus of another : but the virtues of Pho- 
 cion and Cato were the same hi the most minute par- 
 ticular ; their impression, form, and colour, are per- 
 fectly similar. Thus their severity of manners was 
 equally tempered with humanity, and their valour 
 with caution ; they had the same solicitude for others, 
 anddisregard for themselves : the same abhorrence of 
 everything base and dishonourable, and the same 
 firm attachment to justice on all occasions : so that it 
 requires a very delicate expression, like the finely 
 discriminated sounds of the organ, to mark the differ- 
 ence of their characters. 
 
 THE DEATH OF CATO THE YOUNGER. 
 
 After bathing, he went to supper, with a large 
 company, at which he sat, as he had always done 
 since the battle of Pharsalia ; for, (as we observed 
 above) he never now lay down except to sleep. All 
 his friends, and the magistrates of Utica, supped with 
 him. After supper, the wine was seasoned» with 
 much wit and learning ; and many questions in phi- 
 
42 rLUTAECH. 
 
 losophy were proposed and discussed- In the course 
 of the conversation, they came to the paradoxes of 
 the stoics (for so their maxims are commonly called), 
 and to this in particular, « That the good man only is 
 free, and all bad men are slaves." The Peripatetic, 
 in pursuance of his principles, took up the argument 
 against it. Upon which, Cato attacked him with 
 great warmth, and in a louder and more vehement 
 accent than usual, carried on a most spirited dis- 
 course to a considerable length. From the tenor of it, 
 the whole company perceived he had determined to 
 put an end to his being, to extricate himself from the 
 hard conditions on which he was to hold it. 
 
 As he found a deep and melancholy silence the 
 consequence of his discourse, he endeavoured to re- 
 cover the spirits of his guests, and to remove their 
 suspicions, by talking of their present affairs, and ex- 
 pressing his fears both for his friends and partisans 
 who were upon their voyage ; and for those who had 
 to make their way through dry deserts, and a barba- 
 rous country. 
 
 After the entertainment w r as over, he took his usual- 
 evening walk with his friends, and gave the officer» 
 of the guards such orders as the occasion required, 
 and then retired to his chamber. The extraordinary 
 ardour with which he embraoed his son and Ills 
 friends at this parting recalled all their suspicions. 
 He lay clown and began to read Plato's book on the 
 immortality of the soul : but before he had gone 
 through with it, he looked up, and took notice that 
 his sword was not at the head of his bed, where it 
 used to hang ; for his son had taken it away while he 
 was at supper. He, therefore, called his servant and 
 asked him, who had taken away his sword ? As the 
 
riiUTARCH. 4 J 
 
 servant made no answer, he returned to his book ; and, 
 after a while, without any appearance of haste or 
 hurry, as if it was only by accident that he called for 
 the sword, he ordered him to bring it. The servant still 
 delayed to bring it, and he had patience till he had 
 read out his book : but then he called his servants one 
 by one, and in a louder tone demanded his sword. 
 At last he struck one of them such a blow on the 
 mouth that he hurt his own hand ; and growing more 
 angry, and raising his voice still higher, he cried, " I 
 am betrayed and delivered naked to my enemy by my 
 son and my servants." His son then ran in with his 
 friends, and tenderly embracing him, had recourse to 
 tears and entreaties. But Cato rose up, and, with 
 a stern and awful look, thus expressed himself : — 
 " When and where did I show any signs of distrac- 
 tion, that nobody offers to dissuade me from any 
 purpose that I may seem to be wrong in, but I must 
 be hindered from pursuing my resolutions, thus dis- 
 armed ? And you, young man, why do you not bind 
 your father ? bind his hands behind his back, that 
 when Caesar comes, he may find him utterly incapable 
 of resistance ? As to a sword, I have no need of it to 
 despatch myself ; for if I do but hold my breath 
 awhile, or dash my head against the wall, it w T il! 
 answer the same purpose as well." 
 
 Upon his speaking in this manner, the young maia 
 went out of the chamber weeping, and with him all 
 the rest except Demetrius and Apollonides. To 
 these philosophers he addressed himself in a milder 
 tone. — " Are you also determined to make a man of 
 my age live whether he will or no ? And do you sit 
 here in silence to watch me ? Or do you bring any 
 arguments to prove, that, now Cato has no hopes from 
 
44 PLtlTA&Ctf. 
 
 any other quarters, it is no dishonour to beg mercy 
 of his enemy ? Why do not you begin a lecture to 
 inform me better, that, dismissing the opinions in 
 which you and 1 have lived, we may, through Caesar'g 
 means, grow wiser, and so have a still greater obli- 
 gation to him ? As yet I have determined nothing 
 with respect to myself ; but I Ought to have it in 
 my power to put my purpose in execution, when I 
 have formed it. And indeed I shall, in some mea^ 
 sure, consult with you, for I shall proceed with 
 my deliberations upon the principles of your phi- 
 losophy. Be satisfied then, and go tell my son, 
 if persuasion will not do, not to have recourse to 
 constraint. ' ' 
 
 They made no answer, but went out : the tears 
 falling from their eyes as they withdrew. The sword 
 was sent in by a little boy. He drew, and examined 
 it, and finding the point and the edge good, " Now," 
 said he, "I am master of myself." Then laying 
 down the sword, he took up the book again, and, it 
 is said, he perused the whole twice. After which, 
 he slept so sound that he was heard by those who 
 were in waiting without. About midnight he called 
 for two of his freedmen, Cleanthes the physician, 
 and Butas, whom he generally employed about pub- 
 lic business. The latter he sent for to the port, to 
 see whether all the Romans had put off to sea, and 
 bring him word. 
 
 In the meantime he ordered the physician to dress 
 his hand, which was inflamed by the blow he had 
 given his servant. This was some consolation to the 
 whole house, for now they thought he had dropped 
 his design against his life. Soon after this Butas 
 returned, and informed him that they were all got off 
 
PLUTARCH. 45 
 
 except Crassus, who had been detained by some bu- 
 siness, but that he intended to embark very soon, 
 though the wind blew hard, and the sea was tem- 
 pestuous. Cato, at this news, sighed in pity of hk 
 friends at sea, and sent Butas again, that if any of 
 them happened to have put back, and should be in 
 want of any thing, he might acquaint him with 
 it. 
 
 By this time the birds began to sing, and Cato fell 
 again into a little slumber. Butas, at his return, told 
 him, that all was quiet in the harbour ; upon which 
 Cato ordered him to shut the door, having first 
 stretched himself on the bed, as if he designed to 
 sleep out the rest of the night. But after Butas was 
 gone, he drew his sword, and stabbed himself under 
 the breast. However, he could not strike hard 
 enough on account of the inflammation in his hand, 
 and therefore did not presently expire, but in the 
 struggle with death fell from the bed, and threw down 
 a little geometrical table that stood by. 
 
 The noise alarming the servants, they cried out, 
 and his son and his friends immediately entered the 
 room. They found him weltering in his blood, and 
 his bowels fallen out ; at the same time he was alive 
 and looked upon them. They were struck with in- 
 expressible horror. The physician approached to ex- 
 amine the wound, and finding the bowels uninjured, 
 he put them up and began to sew up the wound. 
 But as soon as Cato came a little to himself, he 
 thrust away the physician, tore open the wound, 
 plucked out his own bowels, and immediately ex- 
 pired. J 
 
 In less time than one would think all the family 
 could be informed of this sad event, the three hun- 
 
46 PLUTARCH. 
 
 dred were at the door ; and a little after, all the people 
 of Utica thronged about it, with one voice calling him 
 " their benefactor, their saviour, the only free and 
 unconquered man. This they did, though, at the 
 same time, they had intelligence that Caesar was ap- 
 proaching. Neither fear, nor the flattery of the con- 
 queror, nor the factious disputes that prevailed among 
 themselves, could divert them from doing honour to 
 Cato. They adorned the body in a magnificent man- 
 ner, and, after a splendid procession, buried it near 
 the sea ; where now stands his statue, with a sword 
 in the right hand. 
 
 REPARTEES AND WITTICISMS OF CICERO. 
 
 These were the effects of his vanity. Superior 
 keenness of expression, too, which he had at com- 
 mand, led him into many violations of decorum. He 
 pleaded for Munatius in a certain cause ; and his 
 client was acquitted in consequence of his defence. 
 Afterwards Munatius prosecuted Sabinus, one of 
 Cicero's friends ; upon which he was so much trans- 
 ported with anger as to say, " Thinkest thou it was 
 the merit of thy cause that saved thee, and not rather 
 the cloud which I threw over thy crimes, and which 
 kept them from the sight of the court ?" He had 
 succeeded in an encomium on Marcus Crassus from 
 ' the rostrum : and a few days after as publicly re- 
 proached him. " What !" said Crassus, " did you 
 not lately praise me in the place where you now 
 stand ?" " True :" answered Cicero, " but I did it 
 by way of experiment, to see what I could make of a\ 
 bad subject." Crassus had once affirmed, that none 
 of his family ever lived above threescore years : but 
 afterwards wanted to contradict it, and said, " What 
 
PLUTARCH. 47 
 
 could I have been thinking of when I asserted such 
 a thing !" " You knew," said Cicero, " that such 
 an assertion would be very agreeable to the people of 
 Rome." Crassus" happened one day to profess him- 
 self much pleased with that maxim of the stoics, 
 " The good man is always rich*. " " Imagine," said 
 Cicero, " there is another more agreeable to you, All 
 things belong to the prudent." For Crassus was 
 notoriously covetous. Crassus had two sons, one of 
 which resembled a man called Accius so much that 
 his mother was suspected of an intrigue with him. 
 This young man spoke in the senate with great ap- 
 plause ; and Cicero being asked what he thought of 
 him, answered in Greek, axios Crassou}'. When 
 Crassus was going to set out for Syria, he thought it 
 better to leave Cicero his friend than his enemy ; and 
 therefore addressed him one day in an obliging man- 
 ner, and told him he would come and sup with him- 
 •Cicero accepted the offer with equal politeness. A 
 few days after, Vatinius likewise applied to him by 
 his friends and desired a reconciliation. " What !" 
 said CicCro, " does Vatinius too want to sup with 
 me ?" Such were his jests upon Crassus. Vatinius 
 had scrofulous tumours in his neck ; and one day 
 
 * navra sivai rov ao(pt]. The Greek ooyog signi- 
 fies cunning, shrewd, prudent, as well as wise ; and 
 in any of the former acceptations the stoic maxim 
 was applicable to Crassus. Thus.frugi in Latin, is 
 used indifferently either for saving prudence, or for 
 sober wisdom. 
 
 t An ill-mannered pun, which signifies either that 
 the young man was worthy of Crassus, or that he 
 was the son of Accius. 
 
48 tLITTAItCH, 
 
 when he was pleading, Cicero called him " a tumid 
 orator." An account was once brought Cicero that 
 Vatinius was dead, which being afterwards contra- 
 dicted, he said, " Ma)*- vengeance seize the tongue 
 that told the lie !" When Caesar proposed a decree 
 for distributing the lands in Campania among the 
 soldiers, many of the senators were displeased at it } 
 and Lucius Gellius, in particular, who was one of the 
 oldest of them, said, " That shall never be while I 
 live." " Let us wait a while, then," said Cicero ; 
 " for Gellius requires no very long credit." There 
 was one Octavius, who had it objected to him that he 
 was an African. One day when Cicero was plead- 
 ing, this man said he could not hear him. " That 
 is somewhat strange," said Cicero ; " for you are 
 not without a hole in your ear*." When Metellus 
 Nepos told him, " That he had ruined more as ari 
 evidence than he had saved as an advocate :' 5 "I 
 grant it," said Cicero, " for I have more truth than 
 eloquence." A young man who lay under the im- 
 putation of having given his father a poisoned cake, 
 talking in an insolent manner, and threatening that 
 Cicero should feel the weight of his reproaches, 
 Cicero answered, " I had much rather have them 
 than your cake." PuDlius Sestius had taken Cicero, 
 among others, for his advocate, in a cause of some 
 importance ; and yet he would suffer no man to speak 
 but himself. When it appeared that he would be 
 acquitted* and the judges were giving their verdict, 
 Cicero called to him, and said, " Sestius, make the 
 
 * A mark of slavery amongst some nations ; but 
 the Africans wore pendants in their ears by way of 
 ornament. 
 
test use of your time to-day, for to-morrow you will 
 be out of office*.' ' Publius Cotta, who affected to 
 be thought an able lawyer, though he had neither 
 learning nor capacity ; being called in as a witness hi 
 a certain cause, declared, " He knew nothing of the 
 matter." " Perhaps i" said Cicero* " you think I 
 am asking you some question in law. ' \ Metellus Ne- 
 pos, in some difference with Cicero, often asking him, 
 " Who is your father ?" he replied, " Your mother 
 has made it much more difficult for you to answer that 
 question. ' ' For his mother had not the most unsullied 
 reputation. This Metellus was himself a man of a 
 light unbalanced mind. He suddenly quitted the; 
 tribunitial office, and sailed to Pompey in Syria ; and 
 when he was there, he returned in a manner still more 
 absurd. When his preceptor Philagrus died, he 
 buried him in a pompous manner, and placed the 
 figure of a crow in marble on his monumentf. 
 " This," said Cicero, " was one of the wisest things 
 you ever did : for your preceptor has taught you ra- 
 ther to fly than to speakf." Marcus Appius having 
 mentioned, in the introduction to one of his pleadings* 
 that his friend had desired him to try every source of 
 
 * Probably Sestius, not being a professed advo- 
 cate, would not be employed to speak for any body 
 else ; and therefore Cicero meant that he should in- 
 dulge his vanity in speaking for himself. 
 
 t It Was usual among the ancients to place em-? 
 blematic figures on the monuments of the dead ; and 
 these were either such instruments as represented the 
 profession of the deceased, or such animals as resem- 
 bled them in disposition. 
 
 X Alluding to the celerity of his expeditions, 
 3 
 
60 PLUTARCH. 
 
 care, eloquence, and fidelity, in his cause, Cicero 
 said, " What a hard-hearted man you are, not to 
 do any one thing that your friend has desired of 
 you !" 
 
 It seems not foreign to the business of an orator to 
 use this cutting raillery against enemies or opponents ; 
 but his employing it indiscriminately, merely to raise 
 a laugh, rendered him extremely obnoxious. To 
 give a few instances : he used to call Marcus Aqui- 
 lius Adrastus, because he had two sons-in-law who 
 were both in exile*. Lucius Cotta, a great lover of 
 wine, was censor when Cicero solicited the consul- 
 ship. Cicero, in the course of his canvass, happening 
 to be thirsty, called for water, and said to his friends 
 who stood round him as he drank j " You do well to 
 conceal me, for you are afraid the censor will call 
 me to account for drinking water. ' ' Meeting Voco- 
 nius one day with three daughters, who were very 
 plain women, he cried out : 
 
 On this conception Phoebus never smiledf . 
 
 Marcus Gellius, who was supposed to be of servile 
 extraction, happened to read some letters in the senate 
 with a loud and strong voice : " Do not be surprised 
 at it," said Cicero, " for there have been public criers 
 in his family. ' ' FaUstus, the son of Sylla the dictator, 
 who had proscribed great numbers of Romans, having 
 run deep in debt, and wasted great part of his estate, 
 was obliged to put up public bills for the sale of it. 
 
 * Because Adrastus had married his daughters to 
 Eteocles and Polynices, who were exiled. 
 
 t A verse of Sophocles, speaking of Laius the 
 father of CEdipus. 
 
PLUTARCH. 51 
 
 Upon which Cicero said, " I like these bills much 
 better than his father's." 
 
 CIMON AND L.TJCTTL.I.ITS COMPARED. 
 
 We cannot but think the exit of Lucullus happy, 
 as he did not live to see that change in the consti- 
 tution which fate was preparing for his country in the 
 civil wars. Though the commonwealth was in a 
 sickly state, yet he left it free. In this respect the 
 case of Cimon was particularly similar. For he died 
 while Greece was at the height of her prosperity, and 
 before she was involved in those troubles which prov- 
 ed so fatal to her. It is true there is this difference, 
 Cimon died in his camp, in the office of general ; not 
 like a man, who, fatigued with war, and avoiding its 
 conflicts, sought the reward of his military labours 
 and of the laurels he had won, in the delicacies of the 
 table and the joys of wine. In this view Plato was 
 right in the censure of the followers of Orpheus, who 
 had placed the rewards of futurity, provided for the 
 good, in everlasting intoxication. No doubt, ease, 
 tranquillity, literary researches, and the pleasures of 
 contemplation, furnish the most suitable retreat for a 
 man in years, who has bid adieu to military and 
 political pursuits. But to propose pleasure as the 
 end of great achievements, and, after long expeditions 
 and commands, to lead up the dance of Venus, and 
 riot in her smiles, was so far from being worthy of 
 trie famed Academy, and a follower of the sage 
 Xenocrates, that it rather became a disciple of Epi- 
 curus. This is the more surprising, because Cimon 
 seems to have spent his youth in luxury and dissipa- 
 tion, and Lucullus in letters and sobriety. It is cer- 
 tainly another thing, notwithstanding, to change for 
 
52 PLX7TARCH. 
 
 the better, and happier is the nature in which vices 
 gradually die, and virtue flourishes. 
 
 They were equally wealthy, but did not apply their 
 riches to the same purposes. For we cannot compare 
 the palace at Naples and the Belvideres amidst the 
 water, which Lucullus erected with the barbarian 
 spoils, to the south wall of the citadel which Cimon 
 built with the treasure he brought from the wars. 
 Nor can the sumptuous table of Lucullus, which 
 savoured too much of eastern magnificence, be put in 
 competition with the open and benevolent table of 
 Cimon. The one, at a moderate charge, daily nou- 
 rished great numbers of poor ; the other, at a vast 
 expense, pleased the appetites of a few of the rich and 
 the voluptuous. Perhaps, indeed, some allowance 
 must be made for the difference of the time. We 
 know not whether Cimon, if he had lived to be old, 
 and retired from the concerns of war and of the state, 
 might not have given into a more pompous and luxu- 
 rious way of living : for he naturally loved wine and 
 company, was a promoter of public feasts and games, 
 and remarkable, as we have observed, for his incli- 
 nation for the sex. But glorious enterprises and great 
 actions, being attended with pleasures of another 
 kind, leave no leisure for inferior gratifications ; nay, 
 they banish them from the thoughts of persons of 
 great abilities for the field and the cabinet. And if 
 Lucullus had finished his days in high commands and 
 amidst the conflicts of war, I am persuaded the most 
 envious caviller could have found nothing to reproach 
 him with. So much with respect to their way of 
 living. 
 
 As to their military character, it is certain they 
 were able commanders both at sea and land. But as 
 
PLtfTAilCH* 53 
 
 the champions, who in one day gained the garland 
 not only in wrestling but in the Pancration*> are not 
 simply called victors, but by the custom of the games* 
 the flowers of the victory ; so Cimon, having 
 crowned Greece with two victories gained in one 
 day, the one at land, the other a naval one, deserves 
 some preference in the list of generals. 
 
 Lucullus was indebted to his country for his power? 
 and Cimon promoted the power of his country. The 
 one found itome commanding her allies, and under 
 her auspices extended the conquests ; the other found 
 Athens obeying instead of commanding, and yet 
 gained her the chief authority among her allies, as 
 well as conquered her enemies. The Persians he 
 defeated, and drove them out of the sea, and he per- 
 suaded the Lacedeemonians voluntarily to surrender 
 the command. 
 
 If it be the greatest work of a general to bring his 
 . men to obey him from a principle of affection, we 
 shall find Lucullus greatly deficient in this respect, 
 He w T as despised by his own troops, whereas Cimon 
 commanded the veneration, not only of his own sol- 
 diers, but of all the allies. The former was deserted by 
 his own, and the latter was courted by strangers. The 
 one set out with a fine army, and returned alone., 
 abandoned by that army ; the other went out with 
 troops subject to the orders they should receive from 
 another general, and at his return they were at the 
 head of the whole league. Thus he gained three of 
 the most difficult points imaginable — peace with the 
 
 * The Pancration consisted of boxing and wrestling 
 together. 
 
54 PLtTTARCIt 
 
 enemy, the lead among the allies, and a good under- 
 standing with Sparta. 
 
 They both attempted to conquer great kingdoms, 
 and to subdue all Asia ; but their purposes were un- 
 successful. Cimon's course was stopped by fortune ; 
 he died with his commission in his hand, and in the 
 height of his prosperity. Lucullus, on the other hand, 
 cannot possibly be excused, as to the loss of his au- 
 thority, since he must either have been ignorant of 
 the grievances of his army, which ended in so incu- 
 rable an aversion, or unwilling to redress them. 
 
 This he has in common with Cimon, that he was 
 impeached by his countrymen. The Athenians, it is 
 true, went farther ; they banished Cimon by the os- 
 tracism, that they might not, as Plato expresses it, 
 hear his voice for ten years. Indeed, the proceedings 
 of the aristocratical party are seldom acceptable to the 
 people ; for while they are obliged to use some vio- 
 lence for the correction of what is amiss, their mea- 
 sures resemble the bandages of surgeons, which are 
 uneasy at the same time that they reduce the dislo- 
 cation. But in this respect perhaps we may excul- 
 pate both the one and the other. 
 
 Lucullus carried his arms much the farthest. He 
 was the first who led a Roman army over Mount 
 Taurus, and passed the Tigris. He took and burned 
 the royal cities of Asia, Tigranocerta, Cabira, Sinope, 
 Nisibis, in the sight of their respective kings. On 
 the north he penetrated as Far as the Phasis, on the 
 east to Media, and on the south to the lied Sea, by 
 the favour and assistance of the princes of Arabia. 
 He overthrew the armies of the two great kings, and 
 would certainly have taken them, had they not fled, 
 
PLXj TAKC11, 
 
 like savages, into distant solitudes and inaccessible 
 woods. A certain proof of the advantage Lucullus 
 had m this respect is, that the Persians, as if they had 
 suffered nothing from Cimon, soon made head against 
 the Greeks, and cut in pieces a great army of theirs 
 m Egypt ; whereas Tigranes and Mithridates could 
 effect nothing after the blow they had received from 
 Lucullus. Mithridates, enfeebled by the conflicts he 
 had undergone, did not once venture to face Pompey 
 m the field : instead of that, he fled to the Bosphorus, 
 and there put a period to his life. As for Tigranes, he 
 delivered himself, naked and unarmed, to Pompey, 
 took his diadem from his head, and laid it at his feet ; 
 in which he complimented Pompey, not with what 
 was his own, but with what belonged to the laurels of 
 Lucullus. The poor prince, by the joy with which he 
 received the ensigns of royalty again, confessed that 
 he had absolutely lost them. However, he must be 
 deemed the greater general, as well as the greater 
 champion, who delivers his adversary, weak and 
 breathless, to the next combatant. 
 
 Besides, Cimon found the king of Persia extremely 
 Weakened, and the pride of his people humbled, by 
 the losses and defeats Vaey had experienced from 
 Tliemistocles, Pausanias, and Leotychidas ; and their 
 hands could not make much resistance, when their 
 hearts were gone. But Lucullus met Tigranes fresh 
 and unfoiled, elated and exulting in the battles he 
 had fought and the victories he had won. Nor is the 
 number of the enemy's troops which Cimon defeat- 
 ed m the least to be compared to that of those who 
 gave battle to Lucullus. 
 
 In short, when we weigh all the advantages of each 
 of these great men, it is hard to say to which side the 
 
■56 PLtj'f AB.CH. 
 
 balance inclines. Heaven appears to have favoured 
 both ; directing the one to what he should do, and 
 warning the other what he should avoid. So that the 
 gods bore witness of their virtue*, and regarded them 
 as persons in whom there was something divine. 
 
 CINEAS AND PYRRHUS, 
 
 Cineas now seeing Pyrrhus intent upon his prepa- 
 rations for Italy, took an opportunity, when he saw 
 him at leisure, to draw him into the following con- 
 versation : " The Romans have the reputation of 
 being excellent soldiers, and have the command of 
 many warlike nations ; if it please Heaven that we 
 conquer them, what use, sir, shall we make of our 
 victory ?" " Cineas," replied the king, " your ques- 
 tion answers itself. When the Romans are once sub- 
 dued, there is no town, whether Greek or barbarian, in 
 all the country, that will dare oppose us ; but we shall 
 immediately be masters of all Italy, whose greatness, 
 power, and importance no man knows better than 
 you." Cineas, after a short pause, continued, " But 
 after we have conquered Italy, what shall we do next, 
 sir?" Pyrrhus not yet perceiving his drift, replied, 
 " There is Sicily very near, and stretches out her arms 
 to receive us, a fruitful and populous island, and easy 
 to be taken. For Agathocles was no sooner gone than 
 faction and anarchy prevailed among her cities, and 
 every thing is kept in confusion by her turbulent de- 
 magogues." " What you say, my prince," said Ci- 
 neas, " is very probable ; but is the taking of Sicily 
 to conclude our expeditions ?" " Far from it," an- 
 swered Pyrrhus ; " for if Heaven grant us success in 
 this, that success shall only be the prelude to greater 
 things. Who can forbear Libya and Carthage, then 
 
PLUTARCH, 07 
 
 within reach ? which Agathocles, even when he fled 
 in a clandestine manner from Syracuse, and crossed 
 the sea with a few ships only, had almost made him- 
 self master of. And when we have made such con- 
 quest, who can pretend to say that any of our enemies, 
 who are now so insolent, will think of resisting us ?" 
 " To be sure," said Cineas, " they will not ; for it is 
 clear that so much power will enable you to recover 
 Macedonia, and to establish yourself uncontested so- 
 vereign of Greece. But when we have conquered all, 
 what are we to do then ?" " Why then, my friend," 
 said Fyrrhus laughing, " we will take our ease, and 
 drink and be merry." Cineas, having brought him 
 thus far, replied, " And what hinders us from drink- 
 ing and taking our ease now, when we have already 
 those things in our hands, at which we propose to 
 arrive through seas of blood, through infinite toils and 
 dangers, through innumerable calamities which we 
 must both cause and suffer ?" 
 
 THE DEATH OF CLEOPATRA. 
 
 There was in Csesar's train a young nobleman, 
 whose name was Cornelius Dolabella. He was smit- 
 ten with the charms of Cleopatra, and having engag- 
 ed to communicate to her every thing that passed, he 
 sent her private notice that Caesar was about to return 
 into Syria, and that, within three days, she would be 
 sent away with her children. When she was inform- 
 ed of this, she requested of Caesar permission to make 
 her last oblations to Antony. This being granted, she 
 was conveyed to the place where he was buried ; and 
 kneeling at his tomb, with her women, she thus ad- 
 dressed the manes of the dead : — " It is not long, my 
 Antony, since with these hands I buried thee.' Alas I 
 3* 
 
!>8 PLUTARCH. 
 
 they then were free ; but thy Cleopatra is now a pri- 
 soner, attended by a guard, lest in the transports of 
 her grief she should disfigure this captive body, which 
 is reserved to adorn the triumph over thee. These are 
 the last offerings, the last honours she can pay thee : 
 for she is now to be conveyed to a distant country. 
 Nothing could part us while we lived ; but in death 
 we are to be divided. Thou, though a Roman, liest 
 buried in Egypt ; and I, an Egyptian, must be in- 
 terred in Italy, the only favour I shall receive from 
 thy country. Yet if the gods of Rome have power or 
 mercy left (for surely those of Egypt have forsaken 
 us), let them not suffer me to be led in living tri- 
 umph to thy disgrace ! No ! — hide me, hide me with 
 thee in the grave ; for life, since thou hast left it, has 
 been misery to me." 
 
 Thus the unhappy queen bewailed her misfortunes ; 
 and after she had crowned the tomb with flowers, and 
 kissed it, she ordered her bath to be prepared. When 
 she had bathed, she sat down to a magnificent sup- 
 per ; soon after which, a peasant came to the gate with 
 a small basket. The guards inquired what it con- 
 tained ; and the man who brought it, putting by the 
 leaves which lay uppermost, showed them a parcel 
 of rigs. As they admired their size and beauty, he 
 smiled and bade them take some ; but they refused, 
 and not suspecting that the basket contained any thing 
 else, it was carried in. After supper, Cleopatra sent 
 a letter to Csesar, and ordering every body out of the 
 monument, except her two women, she made fast the 
 door. When Caesar opened the letter, the plaintive 
 style in which it was written, and the strong request 
 that she might be buried in the same tomb with An- 
 tony, made him suspect her design. At first he was 
 
PLUTARCH. 59 
 
 for hastening to her himself, but he changed his mind 
 and despatched others. Her death, however, was so 
 sudden, that though they who were sent ran the whole 
 way, alarmed the guards with their apprehensions, 
 and immediately broke open the doors, they found her 
 quite dead, lying on her golden bed, and dressed in 
 ail her royal ornaments. Iras, one of her women, lay 
 dead at her feet, and Charmion, hardly able to sup- 
 port herself, was adjusting her mistress's diadem. 
 One of Cgssar's messengers said angrily, " Charmi- 
 on, was this well done ?" " Perfectly well," said she, 
 " and worthy a descendant of the kings of Egypt." 
 She had no sooner said this, than she fell down dead. 
 It is related by some that an asp was brought in 
 amongst the figs, and hid under the leaves ; and that 
 Cleopatra had ordered it so that she might be bit 
 without seeing it ; that, however, upon removing the 
 leaves, she perceived it, and said, " This is what I 
 wanted." Upon which she immediately held out her 
 arm to it. Others say that the asp was kept in a 
 water vessel, and that she vexed and pricked it with 
 u golden spindle till it seized her arm. Nothing of 
 this, however, could be ascertained : for it was re- 
 ported likewise that she carried about with her a cer- 
 tain poison in a hollow bodkin that she wore in her 
 hair ; yet there was neither any mark of poison on her 
 body, nor was there any serpent found in the monu- 
 ment, though the track of a reptile was said to have 
 been discovered on the sea sands opposite to the 
 windows of Cleopatra's apartment. Others, again, 
 have affirmed, that she had two small punctures on 
 her arm, apparently occasioned by the sting of the 
 asp ; and it is clear that Caesar gave credit to this ; 
 for her effigy, which he carried in triumph, had an 
 asp on the' arm, 
 
60 fcLTJfAttCIl* 
 
 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 It is reported that the cantharides fly, by a certain 
 kind of antipathy, carries within itself the cure of the 
 wounds it inflicts. On the other hand, wickedness, 
 at the same time that it is committed, engendering its 
 own vexation and torment, not at last, but at the 
 very instant of the injury offered, suffers the reward 
 of the injustice it has done. And as every malefactor 
 bears his own cross to the place of his execution, so 
 are all the various torments of various wicked actions 
 prepared by the several sorts of wickedness them- 
 selves. Such a diligent architectress of a miserable 
 and wretched life is wickedness, wherein shame is still 
 accompanied with a thousand terrors and commotions 
 of the mind, incessant repentance, and never-ceasing 
 tumult of the spirits, There are, however, some 
 people that differ little or nothing from children, who 
 many times beholding malefactors on the stage, in 
 their gilded vestments and short purple cloaks, danc- 
 ing with crowns upon their heads, admire and look 
 upon them as the most happy persons in the world, 
 tiil they see them goaded and lashed, and flames of 
 fire curling from under their sumptuous and gaudy 
 garments. Thus there are many wicked men, sur- 
 rounded with numerous families, splendid in the 
 pomp of magistracy, and illustrious for the greatness 
 of their power, whose punishments never display 
 themselves till these glorious persons come to be the 
 public spectacles of the people, either slain and lying 
 weltering in their blood, or else standing on the top 
 of the rock, ready to be tumbled headlong down the 
 precipice, which indeed cannot so well be said to be 
 a punishment, as the consummation and perfection 
 
PLUTARCH. ' 61 
 
 of* punishment. Moreover, as Herodicus the Selim- 
 brian, falling into a consumption, the most incurable 
 of all diseases, was the first who intermixed the gym- 
 nastic art with the science of physic (as Plato relates) 
 on purpose to spin out in length a tedious time of 
 dying, as well for his own sake, as for that of others 
 labouring under the same distemper ; in like manner 
 there are some wicked men, who flatter themselves 
 to have escaped the present punishment, yet not after 
 such a space, but for a longer tract of time, endure a 
 more lasting, not a shorter punishment ; not punished 
 with old age, but growing old under the tribulation 
 of tormenting affliction. When I speak of a long 
 time, I speak in reference to ourselves. For as to 
 the gods, every distance and distinction of human life 
 is nothing. And now, and not thirty years ago, is 
 the same thing, as that such a malefactor was tor- 
 mented or hanged in the morning, and not in the 
 afternoon. More especially since a man is but shut 
 up in this life, like a close prisoner in a gaol from 
 whence it is impossible to make an escape ; and yet 
 we feast and banquet, are full of business^ receive re- 
 Wards, and enjoy offices. Though, certainly, these 
 are but like the sports of those who play at dice, or 
 any other games in the gaol, while the rope all the 
 while hangs over their heads. So that what should 
 hinder me from asserting, that neither they who are 
 shut up in prison are truly punished till the execu- 
 toner has chopped Off their heads ? or that he who 
 has drunk hemlock, then walks about and stays till 
 a heaviness seizes his limbs, is in any other condi- 
 tion before the extinction of his natural heat, and the 
 coagulation of his blood, deprive him of his senses ? 
 That is to say, if we deem the last moment of the 
 
62 • PLUTARCH. 
 
 punishment to be the only punishment, and omit the 
 commotions, terrors, expectations, and embitterments 
 of repentance, with which every malefactor and all 
 wicked men are teazed upon the committing of any 
 heinous crime. But this is to deny the fish to be 
 taken that falls into the net, before we see it cut into 
 pieces and boiled by the cook ; for every offender is 
 within the gripes of the law so soon as he has com- 
 mitted the crime ; and no sooner has he swallowed 
 the sweet bait of injustice but he may truly be said 
 to be caught ; while his conscience within, tearing 
 and gnawing upon his vitals, allows him no rest : 
 
 Like the swift tunny, frighted from his prey, 
 Rolling and plunging in the angered sea ! 
 
 For the daring rashness and precipitate boldness of 
 iniquity continues violent and active till the fact be 
 perpetrated ; but then the passion, like a surceasing 
 tempest, growing slack and weak, surrenders itself to 
 superstitious fears and terrors. So that Stesichorus 
 may seem to have composed the dream of Clytemnes- 
 tra, to set forth the events and truths of things : 
 
 Then seemed a dragon to draw neaf 5 
 
 With mattery blood all on his head besmeared, 
 And then the king Plisthenides appeared. 
 
 For visions in dreams, noon-day apparitions, oracles, 
 descents into hell, and whatever objects else which 
 may be thought to be transmitted from heaven, 
 raise continual tempests and horrors in the very 
 souls of the guilty. 
 
PLUTARCH. 6B 
 
 RUNNING IN DEETj AND BORROWING OF 
 USURERS. 
 
 Plato in his laws permits not any one to go and 
 draw water from his neighbour's well, who has not 
 first digged and sunk a pit in his own ground till he 
 is come to a vein of clay, and has by his sounding 
 experimented that the place will not yield a spring, 
 because the clay or potter's earth being of its own 
 nature fatty, solid and strong, retains the moisture it 
 receives, and will not let it soak or pierce through : 
 but it must be lawful for them to take water from 
 another's ground when there is no way or means for 
 them to find any in their own ; for the laws ought to 
 provide for men's necessity, but not favour their lazi- 
 ness. The like ordinance there ought to be concern- 
 ing money ; — that none should be allowed to borrow 
 upon usury, nor to go and dive into other men's purs- 
 es, as it were into their wells and fountains, before 
 they have first searched at home, and sounded every 
 means for the obtaining it, having collected, as it were, 
 and gathered together all the gutters and springs, to try 
 if they can draw from them what may suffice to sup- 
 ply their most necessary occasions. But, on the con-, 
 trary, many there are, who, to defray their idle 
 expenses, and to satisfy their extravagant and super- 
 fluous delights, make not use of their own, but have 
 recourse to others, running themselves deeply into 
 debt without any necessity. Now this may easily be 
 judged, if one does but consider that usurers do not 
 ordinarily lend to those which are in distress, but only 
 to such as desire to obtain, and get somewhat that is 
 superfluous, and of which they stand not in need : so 
 
G4 PLUTARCH. 
 
 that the credit given by the lender is a testimony 
 sufficiently proving that the borrower has of his 
 own ; whereas, on the contrary, since he has of his 
 own, he ought to keep himself from borrowing. 
 
 Why shouldst thou go and make thy court to a 
 banker or a merchant ? Borrow from thine own 
 table. Thou hast tankards, dishes, and basins of 
 silver. Make use of them for thy necessity, and 
 when they are gone to supply thy wants, the pleasant 
 town of Aulis, or isle of Tenedos, will again. refurnish 
 thy board with fair vessels of earth, far more cleanly 
 and neat than those of silver : for they are not scented 
 with the strong and unpleasant smell of usury, which, 
 like rust, daily more and more tarnishes the lustre of 
 thy sumptuous magnificence ; they will not every day 
 be putting thee in mind of the calends and new moons, 
 which, being of themselves the most holy and sacred 
 days of the months, are by reason of usuries rendered 
 the most odious and accursed. For as to those who 
 choose rather to carry their goods to the brokers, and 
 there lay them in pawn for money taken upon usury, 
 than to sell them outright, I do not believe that Ju- 
 piter Ctesius himself can preserve them from beggary. 
 They are ashamed, forsooth, to receive the full price 
 and value of their goods, but they are not ashamed to 
 pay use for the money which they have borrowed on 
 them. And yet the great and wise Pericles caused 
 that costly robe of fine gold, weighing about forty 
 talents, with which Minerva's statue was adorned, to 
 be made in such a manner that he could take it on 
 and off at his pleasure : "to the end (said he) that 
 when we shall stand in need of money to support the 
 charges of an expensive war, we may take it, and 
 make use of it on so weighty an occasion, putting 
 
PLUTARCH. G5 
 
 again afterwards in its place another of no less price 
 and value than the former." Thus ought we in our 
 affairs, as in a besieged town, never to admit or re- 
 ceive the hostile garrison of an usurer* nor to endure 
 before our eyes the delivering up of our goods into 
 perpetual servitude, but rather to cut off from our 
 table what is neither necessary nor profitable, and in 
 like manner from our beds, our couches, and our or- 
 dinary expenses, so to keep ourselves free and at 
 liberty, in hopes to restore again what we shall have 
 retrenched if fortune shall hereafter smile upon us. 
 The Roman ladies heretofore willingly parted with 
 their jewels and ornaments of gold for the making a 
 cup to be sent as an offering to the temple of Apollo 
 Pythius in the city of Delphi. And the Carthagi- 
 nian matrons did with their own hands cut the hair 
 from their heads to make cords for the managing of 
 their warlike engines and instruments in defence of 
 their besieged city. But we, as if we were ashamed 
 of being able to stand on our own legs, and without 
 being supported by the assistance of others, go and. 
 enslave ourselves by engagements and obligations ; 
 whereas if were much better, that restraining our 
 humour, and confining it to what is profitable for 
 us, we should t)f our plate, which we should either 
 melt or sell, build a temple of liberty for ourselves, 
 our wives, and our children. 
 
 The goddess Diana, in the city of Ephesus, gives 
 to such debtors as can rly into her temple freedom and 
 protection against their creditors. But the sanctuary 
 of parsimony and moderation in expenses, into which 
 no usurer can enter, to pluck thence and carry away 
 any debtor prisoner, is aiways open for the wise, and 
 affords them a long and large space of joyful and ho- 
 
66 . PLUTARCH. 
 
 nourable repose. For as the prophetess, which gave 
 oracles in the temple of the Pythian Apollo, about 
 the time of the Median wars, answered the Athenians 
 that God had for their safety given them a wall of 
 wood, upon which, forsaking their lands, their city, 
 their houses, and all their goods, they had recourse to 
 their ships for the preservation of their liberty ; so 
 God gives us a table of wood, vessels of earth, and 
 garments of coarse cloth, if we desire to live and 
 continue in freedom. 
 
 Aim not at gilded coaches, steeds of price, 
 And harness, richly wrought with quaint device ; 
 
 for how swiftly soever they may run, yet will usuries 
 overtake them, and outrun them. 
 
 Take rather the first ass thou shalt meet, or the 
 first packhorse that shall come in thy way, and fly 
 from that cruel and tyrannical enemy the usurer, who 
 asks thee not fire and water, as heretofore did the 
 barbarous king of Persia ; but, which is worse, 
 touches thy liberty, wounds thy honour by pro- 
 scriptions, and sets thy goods to sale by outcry. 
 If thou payest him not, he troubles thee ; if thou 
 hast wherewithal to satisfy him, he will not receive 
 it, unless it be his pleasure. If thou sellest, he 
 will have thy goods for nothing, or at a very under- 
 rate ; and if thou wilt not sell, he will force thee to 
 it. If thou suest him, he speaks to thee of an ac- 
 commodation ; if thou swearest to give him content, 
 he will domineer over thee. If thou goest to his house 
 to discourse with him, 4ie shuts the door against 
 thee ; if thou stayest at home, he is always knock- 
 ing at thy door, and will never stir from thee. 
 
PLUTARCH. 67 
 
 The elder Cato said to a certain old man, who 
 behaved himself ill, " My friend, seeing old age has 
 of itself so many evils, why dost thou go about to 
 add to them the reproach and shame of wickedness ?" 
 In like manner may we say to a man, oppressed with 
 poverty, " since poverty has of itself so many and so 
 great miseries, do not heap upon them the anguishes 
 of borrowing and being in debt. Take not from 
 poverty the only good thing in which it is superior 
 to riches, to wit, freedom from pensive care." 
 Otherwise thou wilt subject thyself to the derision 
 of the common proverb, which says, 
 
 A goat I cannot bear away, 
 Yet you an ox upon me lay. 
 
 Thou canst not bear poverty, and yet thou ait 
 going to load on thyself an usurer, which is a bur- 
 den, even to a rich man, insupportable. 
 
 But you will say, perhaps, " how then would you 
 have me to live ?" Is this a question fit for thee to 
 ask, who hast hands, feet, and a voice, who in brief 
 art a man, whose property it is to love, and be be- 
 loved, to do, and to receive, a courtesy ? Canst thou 
 not teach grammar, bring up young children, be a 
 porter or door-keeper, travel by sea, serve in a ship ? 
 There is in all these nothing more shameful or odious 
 than to be dunned with the importunate clamours of 
 such as are always saying, " pay me, give my money. " 
 Rutilius, that rich Roman, coming one day to Muso- 
 nius the philosopher, whispered him thus in his ear, 
 " Musonius, Jupiter the Saviour, whom you philoso- 
 phers profess to imitate and follow, takes not up 
 money at interest." Musonius, smiling, promptly 
 answered him, " Nor yet does he lend for interest." 
 
68 PLUTARCH. 
 
 For this Rutilius, who was an usurer, upbraided the 
 other with borrowing upon use. Now what a foolish 
 stoical arrogance was this ! For what need was there 
 of bringing in here Jupiter the Saviour, when he 
 might have given him the same admonition by things 
 that were familiar, and before his eyes : swallows run 
 not themselves into debt ; ants borrow not upon in- 
 terest ; and yet nature has given them neither reason, 
 hands, nor art. But she has endued men with such 
 abundance of understanding, that they maintain not 
 only themselves, but also horses, dogs, partridges, 
 hares, and jays. Why then dost thou condemn thyself, 
 as if thou wert less able to persuade than a jay,, more 
 dumb than a partridge, and more ungenerous than a 
 dog ; in that thou canst not oblige any man to be as- 
 sistant to thee either by serving hi m, instructing him, 
 delighting; him, guarding him, or fighting in hiss 
 defence ? Dost thou not see how many occasions 
 the land, and how many the sea, affords for thy 
 maintenance ? Hear, also, what Crates says : 
 
 Here saw I Micylus the wool to card, 
 Whilst his wife spun, that they by labour hard 
 In these hard times might 'scape the hungry jaws 
 Of famine- 
 King Antigonus, when he had not for a long time 
 seen Cieanthes the philosopher, said to him, " Dost 
 thou, O Cieanthes, yet continue to grind ?" — " Yes, 
 Sir, (replied Cieanthes), I still grind, and that I do 
 to gain my living, and not depart from philosophy." 
 How great and generous was the courage of this man, 
 who, coming from the mill and the kneading trough, 
 did with the same hand, which had been employed 
 in turning the stone, and moulding the dough, write 
 
PL.UTARCH. 69 
 
 ©F the nature of the gods, moon, stars, and sun I And 
 yet we think these to be servile works I 
 
 DEMETRIUS AND ANTONY COMPARED. 
 
 As Demetrius and Antony both passed through a 
 variety of fortune, we shall consider, in the first 
 place, their respective power and celebrity. These 
 were hereditary to Demetrius ; for Antigonus, the 
 most powerful of Alexander's successors, had re- 
 duced all Asia during his son's minority. On the 
 other hand, the father of Antony was, indeed, a man 
 of character, but not of a military character ; yet 
 though he had no public influence or reputation to 
 bequeath to his son, that son did not hesitate to 
 aspire to the empire of Caesar ; and, without any title 
 either from consanguinity or alliance, he effectually 
 invested himself with all that he had acquired : at 
 least, by his own peculiar weight, after he had divid- 
 ed the world into two parts, he took the better for 
 himself. By his lieatenants he conquered the Par- 
 ihians, and drove back the barbarous nations about 
 Caucasus, as far as the Caspian sea. Even the less 
 reputable parts of his conduct are so many testimo- 
 nies of his greatness. The father of Demetrius 
 thought it an honour to marry him to Phila the daugh- 
 ter of Antipater, though there was a disparity in their 
 years ; while Antony's connection with Cleopatra 
 was considered as a degrading circumstance ; though 
 Cleopatra, in wealth and magnificence, was superior 
 to all the princes of her time, Arsaces excepted» 
 Thus he had raised himself to such a pitch of gran- 
 deur, that the world in general thought him entitled 
 even to more than he wished. 
 
 In Demetrius's acquisition of empire there was 
 
70 PLUTARCH. 
 
 nothing reprehensible. He extended ii only to na- 
 tions inured to slavery, and desirous of being go- 
 verned. But the arbitrary power of Antony grew 
 on the execrable policy of a tyrant, who once more 
 reduced to slavery a people that had shaken off the 
 yoke. Consequently the greatest of his actions, his 
 conquest of Brutus and Cassius, is darkened with the 
 inglorious motive of wresting its liberty from Rome. 
 Demetrius, during his better fortunes, consulted the 
 liberties of Greeqe, and removed the garrisons from 
 the cities : while Antony made it his boast, that he 
 had destroyed the assertors of his country's freedom 
 in Macedonia. 
 
 Antony is praised for his liberality and munifi- 
 cence ; in which, however, Demetrius is so far his 
 superior, that he gave more to his enemies than the 
 former did to his friends. Antony was honoured for 
 allowing a magnificent funeral to Brutus ; but De- 
 metrius buried every enemy he had slain, and sent 
 back his prisoners to Ptolemy, not only with their 
 own property, but with presents. 
 
 Both were insolent in prosperity, and fell with too 
 much ease into luxury and indulgence. But we 
 never find Demetrius neglecting his affairs for his 
 pleasures. In his hours of leisure, indeed, he had 
 his Lamia, whose office it was, like the fairy in the . 
 fable, to lull him to sleep, or amuse him in his play. 
 When he went to war, his spear was not bound about 
 with ivy ; his helmet did not smell of perfume ; he did 
 not come in the foppery of dress out of the chambers 
 of the women : the riots of Bacchus and his train 
 were hushed ; " and he became," as Euripides says, 
 " the minister of Mars." In short, he never lost 
 battle through the indulgence of luxury. This could 
 
PLUTARCH. 71 
 
 not be said of Antony : as in the pictures of Hercules 
 we see Omphale stealing his club and his lion's skin, 
 so Cleopatra frequently disarmed Antony, and, while 
 he should have been prosecuting the most necessary 
 expeditions, led him to dancing and dalliance on the 
 shores of Canopus and Taphosiris. So, likewise, as 
 Paris came from battle to the bosom of Helen, and 
 even from the loss of victory to her bed, Antony 
 threw victory itself out of his hands to follow Cleo- 
 patra. 
 
 Demetrius being under no prohibition of the laws, 
 but following the example of Philip and Alexander, 
 Lysimachus, and Ptolemy, married several wives, 
 and treated them all with the greatest honour. An- 
 tony, though it was a thing unheard of amongst the 
 Romans, had two wives at the same time. Besides, 
 he banished her who was properly his wife, and a 
 citizen, from his house, to indulge a foreigner with 
 whom he could have no legal connexion. From 
 their marriages, of course, one of them found no in-*- 
 convenience ; the other suffered the greatest evils. 
 
 In respect to their amours, Antony was compara- 
 tively pardonable and modest. Historians tell us, that 
 the Athenians turned the dogs out of the citadel, 
 because they had their procreative intercourse in 
 public. But Demetrius had his courtesans, and dis- 
 honoured the matrons of Athens even in the temple 
 of Minerva. Nay, though cruelty seems to be in- 
 consistent with sensual gratifications, he scrupled not 
 to drive the most beautiful and virtuous youth in the 
 city to the extremity of death, to avoid his brutal 
 designs. In short, Antony, by his amorous in- 
 dulgences, hurt only himself ; Demetrius injured 
 others. 
 
72 PLTJTARCEf, 
 
 With regard to their behaviour to their parents 
 and relations, that of Demetrius is irreproachable ; 
 But Antony sacrificed his uncle to the sword of 
 Caesar, that he might be empowered in his turn to 
 cut off Cicero. — A crime the latter was, which never 
 could be made pardonable, had Antony even saved 
 and not sacrificed an uncle by the means. They are 
 both accused of perfidy, in that One of them threw 
 Artabazus in prison ; and the other killed Alexander. 
 Antony,- however, has some apology in this case ; 
 for he had been abandoned and betrayed by Arta- 
 bazus in Media'. But Demetrius was suspected of 
 laying a false accusation against Alexander, and of 
 punishing, not the offender, but the injured. 
 
 There is this difference, too, in their, military 
 operations, that Demetrius gained every victory 
 himself, and many of Antony's laurels were won by 
 his lieutenants. 
 
 Both lost their empire by their own fault, but by 
 different means. The former was abandoned by his 
 people : the latter deserted his, even whilst they were 
 fighting for him. The fault of Demetrius was, that, 
 by his conduct, he lost the affection of his army : 
 the fault of Antony, his desertion and neglect Of that 
 affection. Neither of them can be approved in their 
 death ; but Demetrius much less than Antony ; for 
 he suffered himself to fall into the hands of the 
 enemy, and, with a spirit that was truly bestial, en- 
 dured an imprisonment of three years for nothing 
 but the low indulgences of appetite. There was a 
 deplorable weakness, and many disgracefnl circum- 
 stances, attending the death of Antony ; but he ef- 
 fected it at last without falling into the enemy's 
 hands. 
 
PLUTARCH. ' 73 
 
 DEMOSTHENES AND CICERO COMPARED. 
 
 These are the most memorable circumstances in 
 the lives of Demosthenes and Cicero that could be 
 collected from the historians which have come to our 
 knowledge. Though I shall not pretend to compare 
 their talents for speaking ; yet this, I think, I ought 
 to observe, that Demosthenes, by the exertion of all 
 his powers, both natural and acquired, upon that 
 object only, came to exceed in energy and strength 
 the most celebrated leaders of his time : in grandeur 
 and magnificence of style, all that were eminent for 
 the sublime of declamation ; and, in accuracy and 
 art, the most able professors of rhetoric. Cicero's stu- 
 dies were more general ; and, in his treasures of 
 knowledge, he had a great variety* He has left us a 
 number of philosophical tracts, which he composed 
 upon the principles of the academy ; and we see 
 something of an ostentation of learning in the very- 
 orations which he wrote for the forum, and the bar. 
 
 Their different tempers are discernible in their way 
 of writing. That of Demosthenes, without any em- 
 bellishments of wit and humour, is always grave and 
 serious. Nor does it smell of the lamp, as Pytheaa 
 tauntingly said, but of the water-drinker, of the man 
 of thought, of one who was characterized by the au- 
 sterities of life. But Cicero, who loved to indulge 
 his vein of pleasantry, so much affected the wit, that 
 he sometimes sunk into the buffoon ; and by affecting 
 gaiety in the most serious things, to serve his client, 
 he has offended against the rules of propriety and de- 
 corum. Thus, in his oration for Caelius, he says, 
 * € Where is the absurdity, if a man, with an affluent 
 4 
 
74 PLUTARCH. 
 
 fortune at command, shall indulge himself in plea- 
 sure ? It would be madness not to enjoy what is in 
 his power ; particularly when some of the greatest 
 philosophers place man's chief good in pleasure* ?" 
 
 When Cato impeached Murena, Cicero, who was 
 then consul, undertook his defence ; and, in his 
 pleading, took occasion to ridicule several paradoxes 
 of the stoics, because Cato was of that sect. He 
 succeeded so far as to raise a laugh in the assembly ; 
 and even among the judges. Upon which Cato smil- 
 ed, and said to those who sat by him, " What a plea- 
 sant consul we have !" Cicero, indeed, was naturally 
 facetious ; and he not only loved his jest, but his 
 countenance was gay and smiling. Whereas Demos- 
 thenes had a care and thoughtfulness in his aspect, 
 which he seldom or never put off. Hence his enemies, 
 as he confesses, called him a morose ill natured man. 
 
 It appears also from their writings, that Demos- 
 thenes, when he touches upon his own praise, does it 
 with an inoffensive delicacy. Indeed he never gives 
 into it at all, but when he has some great point in 
 view ; and on all other occasions is extremely modest. 
 But Cicero, in his orations, speaks in such high terms 
 of himself, that it is plain he had a most intemperate 
 vanity. Thus he cries out. 
 
 Let arms revere the robe, the warrior's laurel 
 Yield to the palm of eloquence. 
 
 At length he came to commend not only his own 
 
 * Plutarch has not quoted this passage with ac- 
 curacy. Cicero apologizes for the excesses of youth ; 
 but does not defend or approve the pursuit of plea- 
 sure. 
 
PLUTARCH. 75 
 
 actions and operations in the coramo wealth, but his 
 orations too, as well those which he had only pro- 
 nounced as those he had committed to writing, as if, 
 with a juvenile vanity, he were vying with the rheto-. 
 ricians Isocrates and Anaximenes, instead of being 
 inspired with the great ambition of guiding the Ro- 
 man people, 
 
 Fierce in the field, and dreadful to the foe. 
 
 It is necessary, indeed, for a statesman to have the 
 advantage of eloquence ; but it is mean and illiberal to 
 rest in such a qualification, or to hunt after praise in 
 that quarter. In this respect Demosthenes behaved 
 with more dignity, with a superior elevation of soul. 
 He said, " His ability to explain himself was a mere 
 acquisition ; and not so perfect, but that it required 
 great candour and indulgence in the audience." He 
 thought it must be, as indeed it is, only a low and 
 little mind, that can value itself upon such attain- 
 ments. 
 
 They both, undoubtedly, had political abilities, as 
 well as powers to persuade. They had them in such 
 a degree, that men, who had armies at their devotion, 
 stood in need of their support. Thus Chares, Dio- 
 pithes, and Leosthenes availed themselves of Demos- 
 thenes ; Pompey and young Caesar, of Cicero ; as 
 Caesar himself acknowledges, in his Commentaries 
 addressed to Agrippa and Maecenas. 
 
 It is an observation no less just than common, that 
 nothing makes so thorough a trial of a man's dispo- 
 sition as power and authority, for they awake every 
 passion and discover every latent vice. Demosthenes 
 never had an opportunity for a trial of this kind He 
 
76 PLUTARCH. 
 
 never obtained any eminent charge ; nor did he lead 
 those armies against Philip, which his eloquence had 
 raised. But Cicero went quaestor into Sicily, and pro- 
 consul into Cilicia and Cappadocia ; at a time, too, 
 when avarice reigned without control ; when the go- 
 vernors of provinces, thinking it beneath them to take 
 a clandestine advantage, fell to open plunder ; when to 
 take another's property was thought no great crime, 
 and he who took moderately passed for a man of cha- 
 racter. Yet, at such a time as this, Cicero gave many 
 proofs of his contempt of money ; many of his hu- 
 manity and goodness. At Rome, with the title only 
 of consul, he had an absolute and dictatorial power 
 against Catiline and his accomplices. On which oc- 
 casion he verified the prediction of Plato, " That 
 every state will be delivered from its calamities, 
 when, by the favour of fortune, great power unites 
 with wisdom and justice in one person." 
 
 It is mentioned, to the disgrace of Demosthenes, 
 that his eloquence was mercenary ; that he privately 
 composed orations both for Phormio and Apollodorus, 
 though adversaries in the same cause. To which we 
 may add, that he was suspected of receiving money 
 from the King of Persia, and condemned for taking 
 bribes of Harpalus. Supposing some of these the 
 calumnies of those who wrote against him (and they 
 are not a few) ; yet it is impossible to affirm that he 
 was proof against the presents which were sent him by 
 princes, as marks of honour and respect. This was 
 too much to be expected from a man who vested his 
 money at interest upon ships. Cicero, on the other 
 hand, had magnificent presents sent him by the Sicili- 
 ans, when he was sedile j by the king of Cappadocia» 
 
PLUTARCH. 57 
 
 when proconsul ; and his friends pressed him to re- 
 ceive their benefactions, when in exile ; yet, as we 
 have already observed, he refused them all. 
 
 The banishment of Demosthenes reflected infamy 
 apon him ; for he was convicted of taking bribes : 
 that of Cicero, great honour ; because he suffered for 
 destroying traitors, who had vowed the ruin of their 
 country. The former, therefore, departed without ex- 
 citing pity or regret : for the latter, the senate changed 
 their habit, continued in mourning, and could not be 
 persuaded to pass any act till the people had recalled 
 him. Cicero, indeed, spent the time of exile in an 
 inactive manner in Macedonia ; but with Demos- 
 thenes it was a busy period in his political character. 
 Then it was, (as we have mentioned above) that he 
 went to the several cities of Greece, strengthened the 
 common interest, and defeated the designs of the 
 Macedonian ambassadors. In which respect he dis- 
 * covered a much greater regard for his country than 
 Themistocles and Alcibiades, when under the same 
 misfortune. After his return, he pursued his former 
 plan of government, and continued the war with 
 Antipater and the Macedonians. Whereas La?lius 
 reproached Cicero in full senate with sitting silent, 
 when Csesar, who was not yet come to years of ma- 
 turity, applied for the consulship contrary to law. 
 And Brutus, in one of his letters,, charged him with 
 " having reared a greater and more insupportable 
 tyranny than that which they had destroyed.'* 
 
 As to the manner of their death, we cannot think 
 of Cicero's without a contemptuous kind of pity. 
 How deplorable to see an old man, for want of proper 
 resolution, suffering himself to be carried about by 
 his servants, endeavouring to hide himself from death, 
 
7S PLUTARCH, 
 
 which was a messenger that nature would soon have 
 sent him, and overtaken notwithstanding and slaugh- 
 tered by his enemies ! The other, though he did dis- 
 cover some fear, by taking sanctuary, is, neverthe- 
 less, to be admired for the provision he had made of 
 poison, for the care with which he had preserved 
 it, and his noble manner of using it. So that, whers 
 Neptune did not afford him an asylum, he had re- 
 course to a more inviolable altar, rescued himself 
 from the weapons of the guards, and eluded trie 
 cruelty of Antipater. 
 
 DION AND EKXJTX7S COMPARED. 
 
 What is principally to be admired in the lives of 
 Dion and Brutus is their rising to such importance 
 from inconsiderable beginnings. But here Dion ha» 
 the advantage ; for, in the progress of glory, he had 
 no coadjutor : whereas Cassius went hand in hand 
 with Brutus ; and though in the reputation of virtue 
 and honour he was by no means his equal, in mili- 
 tary experience, resolution, and activity he was not 
 inferior. Some have imputed to him the origin of 
 the whole enterprise, and have asserted that Brutus 
 would never, otherwise, have engaged in it. Put 
 Dion, at the same time that he made the whole mili- 
 tary preparations himself, engaged the friends and 
 associates of his design. He did not, like Brutus, 
 gain power and riches from the war : he employed 
 that wealth, on which he was to subsist as an exile in 
 a foreign country, in restoring the liberties of his own. 
 When Brutus and Cassius fled from Some, and 
 found no Asylum from the pursuit of their enemies, 
 their only resource was war ; and they took up arms 
 as much in their own defence as in that of the com- 
 
PLUTARCH. 79 
 
 mon liberty. Dion, on the contrary, was happier in 
 his banishment than the tyrant that banished him ; 
 and yet he voluntarily exposed himself to danger for 
 the freedom of Sicily. Besides, to deliver the Romans 
 from Caesar, and the Syracusans from Dionysius y 
 were enterprises of a very different kind. Dionysius 
 was an avowed and established tyrant ; and Sicily, 
 with reason, groaned beneath his yoke. But with re- 
 spect to Caesar, though, whilst his imperial power 
 was in its infancy, he treated its opponents with seve- 
 rity ; yet, as soon as that power was confirmed, the 
 tyranny was rather a nominal than a real thing : for no 
 tyrannical action could be laid to his charge. Nay, 
 such was the condition of Rome,, that it evidently re- 
 quired a master ; and Caesar was no more than a tender 
 and skilful physician appointed by Providence to heal 
 the distempers of the state. Of course the people la- 
 mented his death, and were implacably enraged 
 against his assassins. Dion, on the contrary, was re- 
 proached by the Syracusans for suffering Dionysius to 
 escape, and not digging up the former tyrant's grave, 
 
 With regard to their military conduct, Dion, as a 
 general, was without a fault : he not only made the 
 most of his own instructions, but, where others failed, 
 he happily repaired the error. But it was wrong in 
 Brutus to hazard a second battle, where all was at 
 stake. And when that battle was lost, he had nei- 
 ther sagacity enough to think of new resources, nor 
 spirit, like Pompey, to contend with fortune, though 
 he had still reason to rely on his troops, and was ab- 
 solute master at sea. 
 
 But what Brutus is chiefly blamed for was his in- 
 gratitude to Caesar. He owed his life to his favour, 
 as well as the lives of those prisoners for whom he in- 
 
SO PLUTARCH. 
 
 tercedecL He was treated as his friend, and distill-* 
 guished with particular marks of honour ; and yet he 
 imbrued his hands in the blood of his benefactor. 
 Dion stands clear of any charge like this. As a re- 
 lation of Dionysius, he assisted and was useful to 
 him in the administration : in which case his services 
 were equal to his honours» When he was driven 
 into exile, and deprived of his wife and his fortune, 
 he had every motive that was just and honourable to 
 take up arms against him. 
 
 Yet if this circumstance is considered in another 
 light, Brutus will have the advantage. The greatest 
 glory of both consists in their abhorrence of tyrants, 
 and their criminal measures. This, in Brutus, was 
 not blended with any other motive. He had no 
 quarrel with Caosar ; but exposed his life for the 
 liberty of his country. Had not Dion been injured, 
 he had not fought. This is clear from Plato's epis- 
 tles ; where it appears, that he was banished from the 
 court of Dionysius, and in consequence of that ban- 
 ishment made war upon him. For the good of the 
 community, Brutus, though an enemy to Pompey, 
 became his friend ; and though a friend to Csesar, he 
 , became his enemy. His enmity and his friendship 
 arose from the same principle, which was justice. 
 But Dion, whilst in favour, employed his services for 
 Dionysius ; and it was not till he was disgraced that 
 he armed against him. Of course, his friends were 
 not quite satisfied with his enterprise. They were 
 apprehensive that when he had destroyed the tyrant, 
 he might seize the government himself, and amuse 
 the people with some softer title than that of tyranny. 
 On the other hand, the very enemies of Brutus ac- 
 knowledge that he was the only conspirator who had 
 
PLUTARCH. 81 
 
 no other view than that of restoring the ancient form 
 of government. 
 
 Besides, the enterprise against Dionysius cannot be 
 placed in competition with that against Csesar. The 
 former had rendered himself contemptible by his low 
 manners, his drunkenness, and debauchery. — But to 
 meditate the fall of Csesar, and not tremble at his 
 dignity, his fortune or his power, — nor shrink at that 
 name which shook the kings of India and Parthia on 
 their thrones, and disturbed their slumbers ; — this 
 showed a superiority of soul, on which fear could 
 have no influence. Dion was no sooner seen in Sicily 
 than he was joined by thousands ; but the authority 
 of Csesar was so formidable in Rome that it support- 
 ed his friends even after he was dead. And a simple 
 boy rose to the first eminence of power by adopting 
 his name ; which served as a charm against the envy 
 and the influence of Antony. Should it be objected 
 that Dion had the sharpest conflicts in expelling the 
 tyrant, but that Csesar fell naked and unguarded be- 
 neath the sword of Brutus, it will argue at least a con- 
 summate management and prudence to be able to come 
 at a man of his power, naked and unguarded. Par- 
 ticularly when it is considered that the blow was not 
 sudden, nor the work of one, or of a few men, but 
 meditated, and communicated to many associates, of 
 whom not one deceived the leader : for either he had 
 the power of distinguishing honest men at the first 
 view, or such as he chose he made honest by the 
 confidence he reposed in them. But Dion confided in 
 men of bad principles ; so that he must either have 
 been injudicious in his choice ; or, if his people grew 
 worse after their appointments, unskilful in his man- 
 agement. Neither of these can be consistent with 
 4* 
 
82 PLUTARCH. 
 
 the talents and conduct of a wise man ; and Plato, 
 accordingly, blames him in his letters, for making 
 choice of such friends as, in the end, were his 
 ruin. 
 
 Dion found no friend to revenge his death : but 
 Brutus received an honourable interment even from 
 his enemy Antony : and Caesar allowed of that public 
 respect which was paid to his memory, as will appear 
 from the following circumstance. A statue oT brass 
 had been erected to him at Milan, in Gallia Cisal- 
 pina, which was a fine performance, and a striking 
 likeness. Caesar, as he passed through the town, 
 took notice of it, and summoning the magistrates, in 
 the presence of his attendants, he told them that they 
 had broken the league, by harbouring one of his ene- 
 mies. The magistrates, as may well be supposed, 
 denied it, and stared at each other, profoundly igno- 
 rant what enemy he could mean. He then turned 
 towards the statue, and, knitting his brows, said, 
 " Is not this my enemy that stands here?" The 
 poor Milanese were struck dumb with astonishment ; 
 but Caesar told them, with a smile, that he was 
 pleased to find them faithful to their friends in adver- 
 sity, and ordered that the statue should continue 
 where it was. 
 
 SAYINGS OF DIONYSITJS. 
 
 Some sayings of his are on record, by which it 
 should seem that he did* not bear his present misfor- 
 tunes in an abject manner. When he arrived at 
 Leucas, which was a Corinthian colony as well as 
 Syracuse, he said, " He found himself in a situation 
 like that of young men who had been guilty of some 
 misdemeanor. For as they converse cheerfully, not- 
 
PLUTARCH. 83 
 
 withstanding, with their brothers, but are abashed at 
 the thought of coming before their fathers, so he was 
 ashamed of going to live in the mother city, and 
 could pass his days much more to his satisfaction with 
 them." Another time, when a certain stranger de- 
 rided him at Corinth in a very rude and scornful 
 manner, for having, in the meridian of his power , 
 taken pleasure in the discourse of philosophers, and 
 at last asked him, " What he had got by the wisdom 
 of Plato ?" " Do you think," said he, " that we 
 have reaped no advantage from Plato, when we bear 
 in this manner such a change of fortune ?" Aristox- 
 enus the musician, and some others, having inquired 
 "What was the ground of his displeasure against 
 Plato?" he answered, "That absolute power a- 
 bounded with evils ; but had this great infelicity 
 above all the rest, that among the number of those 
 who call themselves the friends of an arbitrary 
 prince, there is not one who will speak his mind to 
 him freely ; and that by such false friends he had 
 been deprived of the friendship of Plato." 
 
 Some one who had a mind to be arch, and to 
 make merry with Dionysius, shook his robe when he 
 entered his apartment, as is usual when persons ap- 
 proach a tyrant : and he returned the jest very well, 
 bade him ti Do the same when he went out, that he 
 might not carry off some of the moveables." 
 
 One day, over their cups, Philip of Macedon, with 
 a kind of sneer, introduced some discourse about the 
 odes and tragedies which Dionysius the elder left 
 behind him, and pretended to doubt how he could 
 find leisure for such works. Dionysius answered 
 smartly enough, " They were written in the time 
 
84 PLUTARCH. 
 
 which you and I, and other happy fellows, spend 
 over the bowl." 
 
 EDUCATION. LEARNING. 
 
 In brief therefore I say (and it may be what I say 
 may justly challenge the repute of oracles rather than 
 of advices), that the chief thing considerable in this 
 matter, and which compriseth the beginning, middle, 
 and end of all, is good education and regular instruc- 
 tions ; and that these two afford great helps and assist- 
 ances towards the attainment of virtue and felicity. 
 For all other good things are but human and of 
 small value, such as will hardly recompense the in- 
 dustry required to the getting of them. It is indeed 
 a desirable thing to be well descended : but it is of 
 our ancestor's goods, not our own. Riches are valua- 
 ble, but are the goods of Fortune (which frequently 
 takes them from those that have them, and carries 
 them to those that never so much as hoped for them) : 
 yea, the greater they are, the fairer mark are they for 
 those who aim at, who design to make our bags their 
 prize, I mean evil servants and sycophants, and 
 (which is the weightiest consideration of all) they are 
 of such good things as may be enjoyed by the worst 
 as well as the best of men. Glory is a thing deserv- 
 ing respect ; but unstable. Beauty is a prize that 
 men fight to obtain ; but when obtained, it is of little 
 continuance. Health a precious enjoyment, but easily 
 impaired. Strength a thing desirable, but apt to be 
 the prey of diseases and old age ; and that which it is 
 a great mistake in any man, even while he enjoys h% 
 to value himself upon ; for what indeed is any pro- 
 portion of human strength, if compared to that of 
 other animals» such as elephants, and bulls, and 
 
PLUTARCH, M 
 
 lions? But learning alone, of all things in our pos- 
 session, is immortal and divine ; and two things there 
 are that are most peculiar to human nature j under- 
 standing and reason ; of which two, the understanding 
 is the master of reason, and reason the servant of the 
 understanding : which is against all assaults of for- 
 tune impregnable ; not to be taken away by false ac- 
 cusation, nor impaired by sickness, nor enfeebled by 
 old age. For the understanding only grows youthful 
 by age, and time, which decays all other things, in- 
 creaseth knowledge in us in our decaying years. Yea, 
 war itself, which, like a torrent, bears down all other 
 things before it, and carries them away with it, leaves 
 learning only behind it to the possessor. Whence 
 the answer which Stilpo, a philosopher of Megara, 
 gave to Demetrius seems to me very remarkable, 
 who, when he levelled that city to the ground, and 
 made all the citizens bondmen, asked Stilpo, " whe- 
 ther he had lost any thing ?" " Nothing," replied 
 he ; " for war cannot plunder virtue." To which 
 raying that of Socrates also is very agreeable ; who, 
 when Gorgias (as I take it) asked him " what his 
 opinion was of the king of Persia," and " whether 
 he judged him happy j" returned answer, " that he 
 could not tell what to think of him, because he knew 
 not how well he was furnished with virtue and learn- 
 ing ;" as judging human felicity to consist in those 
 endowments, and not in those which are subject to 
 fortune; 
 
 ***** 
 
 The wife of Phocion the Just was always wont to 
 maintain, that her chiefest glory consisted in the war- 
 like achievements of her husband : for my part, I am 
 of opinion, that all my glory, not only that peculiar 
 
86 PLUTARCH. 
 
 to myself, but also what is common to all my familial 1 
 friends and relations, flows from the care and dili- 
 gence of my master that taught me learning. For the 
 most renowned performances of great commanders 
 tend only to the preservation of some few private sol- 
 diers, or the safety of a single city or nation, but 
 neither make the soldiers, nor the citizens, nor the 
 people, any thing the better. But true learning, 
 being the essence and body of felicity, and the source 
 of prudence, we find to be profitable and beneficial, 
 not only to one house, or city, or nation, but to all the 
 race of men. Therefore, by how much more the 
 benefit and advantage oflearning transcends the pro- 
 fits of military performances, by so much the more is 
 it to be remembered and mentioned as most worthy 
 your study and esteem. 
 
 EQUANIMITY. 
 
 As the shoe turns about with the foot, and doth 
 not deviate from its motion, so, according as the affec- 
 tions of the mind are, they render the life conformable 
 to themselves. For it is not custom, as one observed, 
 which makes even the best life pleasant to those who 
 choose it, but k must be prudence in conjunction with 
 it, which not only makes it the best for its kind, but 
 sweetest in its enjoyment. The fountain of tranquil- 
 lity therefore being in ourselves, let us cleanse it from 
 all impurity, and make its streams limpid, that all 
 external accidents, by being made familiar, may be 
 no longer grievous to us, but that we may play them 
 when they are tame. 
 
 Let not these things thy least concern engage* 
 For though thou fret'st, they will not mind thy rage ; 
 Him only good and happy we may call 
 Who rightly useth what may him befal. 
 
; PLUTARCH. 87 
 
 For Plato compared our life to a game at dice, where 
 we ought to throw for what is most commodious to 
 us, but to be content with our casts, let them be 
 never so unfortunate ; we cannot make what chances 
 we please turn up, if we play fair : this lies out of our 
 power — that which is within it is to accept patiently 
 what fortune shall allot us, and so to adjust things in 
 their proper places, that what is our own may be dis- 
 posed of to the best advantage ; and what hath hap- 
 pened against our will may offend us as little as is 
 possible. Otherwsie, the men who live without mea- 
 sures, and with no prudence (like those whose con- 
 stitution is so sickly and infirm, that they are equally 
 impatient both of heats and colds,) prosperity exalts 
 them abo\e, and adversity dejects them beneath their 
 temper : indeed, each fortune disturbs them, or rather 
 they raise up storms to themselves in either, and, as 
 they manage it, are querulous under good circum- 
 stances. Theodoras, who was called the atheist, for 
 denying the existence of the gods, was used to say,, 
 that he reached out his instructions with the right,, 
 and his auditors received them with their left hands. 
 So men of no education, when fortune would even 
 be complaisant to them, yet they are go awkward m 
 their observance, that they take her addresses on the 
 wrong side. On the contrary, men that are wise, as 
 the bees draw honey from the thyme, which is a 
 most unsavory and dry herb, so they extract some- 
 thing that is convenient and useful even from the most 
 bitter afflictions. This therefore let us learn and have- 
 inculcated upon us, that, just as he, who, throwing a. 
 stone at a dog, struck his step-mother, and then de- 
 clared that he had not lost his cast, for even his mis- 
 take hit right, so for those things which fortune ©b- 
 
$8 PLUTARCH. 
 
 trades upon us, contrary to our desires, let us alter 
 their nature, by putting a different construction upon 
 them. 
 
 FLAMINIUS AND PHILOPffiMEN COMPARED. 
 
 If we consider the extensive benefits which Greece 
 received from Flaminius, we shall find that neither 
 Philopoemen, nor other Grecians more illustrious than 
 Philopoemen, will stand the comparison with him. 
 For the Greeks always fought against Greeks ; but 
 Flaminius, who was not of Greece, fought for that 
 country. And at a time when Philopoemen, unable 
 to defend his fellow citizens who were engaged in a 
 dangerous war, passed over into Crete, Flaminius, 
 having vanquished Philip in the heart of Greece, set 
 cities and whole nations free. If we examine into 
 their battles, it will appear, that Philopoemen, while 
 he commanded the Achaean forces, killed more 
 Greeks, than Flaminius, in asserting the Grecian 
 cause, killed Macedonians. 
 
 As to their failings, ambition was the fault of Fla- 
 minius, and obstinacy that of Philopoemen. The for- 
 mer was passionate, and the latter implicable. Fla- 
 minius left Philip in his royal dignity, and pardoned 
 the iEtolians ; whereas, Philopoemen, in his resent- 
 ment against his country, robbed her of several of her 
 dependencies. Besides, Flaminius was always a firm 
 friend to those whom he had once served ; but Philo- 
 poemen was ever ready to destroy the merit of his 
 former kindnesses, only to indulge his anger. For he 
 had been a great benefactor to the Lacedaemonians ; 
 yet afterwards he demolished their walls, and ravaged 
 their country ; and in the end entirely changed and 
 overturned their constitution. Nay, he seems to have 
 
JPLuTAHC'Ii» 89 
 
 sacrificed his life to his passion and perverseness, by 
 too hastity and unseasonably invading Messenia ; in- 
 stead of taking, like Flaniinius, every precaution for 
 his own security and that of his troops. 
 
 But Philopoemen's military knowledge and expe- 
 rience were perfected by his many wars and victories. 
 And whereas Flaminius decided his dispute with 
 Philip in two engagements ; Philopcemen, by con- 
 quering in an incredible number of battles, left for- 
 tune no room to question his skill. 
 
 Flaminius, however, availed himself of the power 
 of a great and flourishing commonwealth, and raised 
 himself by its strength ; but Philopcemen distinguished 
 himself at a time when his country was upon the de- 
 cline. So that the success of the one is to be ascribed 
 solely to himself, and that of the other to all the Ro- 
 mans. The one had good troops to command ; and 
 the other made those so which he commanded. And 
 though the great actions of Philopcemen, being per- 
 formed against Grecians, do not prove him a fortunate 
 man, yet they prove him a brave man. For, where 
 all other things are equal, great success must be owing 
 to superior excellence. He had to do with two of the 
 most warlike nations among the Greeks ; the Cretans, 
 who were the most artful, and the Lacedaemonians, 
 who were the most valiant ; and yet he mastered the 
 former by policy, and the latter by courage. Add to 
 this, that Flaminius had his men ready armed and 
 disciplined to his hand : whereas Philopcemen had 
 the armour of his to alter, and to new-model their -dis- 
 cipline. Bo that the things which contribute most to 
 victory were the invention of the one, while the other 
 only practised what was already in use. Accordingly 
 Philopoemen's personal exploits were many and great ; 
 
90 plutakch/ 
 
 hut we find nothing of that kind remarkable hi Fla- 
 wrinius. On the contrary, a certain ^Etolian said, by 
 way of raillery, " Whilst I ran, with my drawn 
 sword, to charge the Macedonians, who stood firm 
 and continued lighting, Titus was standing still, with 
 his hands lifted up towards heaven, and praying." 
 
 It is true, all the acts of Flaminius were glorious, 
 while he was general, and during his lieutenancy too : 
 but Philoposmen showed himself no less serviceable 
 and active among the Achseans, when in a private 
 capacity, than when he had the command. For, when 
 commander-in-chief, he drove Nabis out of the city of 
 Messene, and restored the inhabitants to their liberty ; 
 but he was only in a private station when he shut the 
 sates of Sparta against the general Diophanes, and 
 against Flaminius, and by that means saved the Lace- 
 daemonians. Indeed, nature had given him such ta- 
 lents for command, that he knew not only how to 
 govern according to the laws, but how to govern the 
 laws themselves, when the public good required it ; 
 not waiting for the formality of the people's appoint- 
 ing him, but rather employing them, when the occa- 
 sion demanded it. For he was persuaded, that, not 
 he whom the people elect, but he who thinks best 
 for the people, is the true general. 
 
 There was undoubtedly something great and gene- 
 rous in the clemency and humanity of Flaminius to- 
 wards the Grecians ; but there was something still 
 greater and more generous in the resolution which 
 Fhilopoemen showed in maintaining the liberties of 
 Greece against the Romans. For it is a much easier 
 matter to be liberal to the weak than to oppose and to 
 support a dispute with the strong. Since, therefore, 
 after all our inquiry into the characters of these two 
 
' PLUTARCH, 91 
 
 great men, the superiority is not obvious, perhaps 
 we shall not greatly err, if we give the Grecian the 
 palm of generalship and military skill, and the Ro- 
 man that of justice and humanity. 
 
 THE SIGNS OF A FLATTERER. 
 
 Well, but after all, who is this flatterer then, 
 whom we ought so industriously to avoid ? 
 
 I answer — he who neither professes nor seems to 
 flatter ; who never haunts your kitchen, is never ob- 
 served to watch the dial, that he may nick your sup- 
 pertime ; who will not drink to excess, but who will 
 keep his brains about hiui ; who is prying and inqui- 
 sitive, would mix in your business, and wind himself 
 into your secrets : in short, he who acts the friend, 
 not with the air of a comedian or a satirist, but with 
 the port and gravity of a tragedian ; for, as Plato 
 says, " it is the height of injustice to appear just, and 
 be really a knave." So are we to look upon those 
 flatterers as most dangerous, who walk not barefaced, 
 but in disguise ; who make no sport, but mind their 
 business : for these often personate the true and sin- 
 cere friend so exactly, that it is enough to make him 
 fall under the like suspicion of a cheat, unless we 
 be extremely curious in remarking the difference be- 
 tween them. * * * * * 
 
 Now, because the enjoyment of a friend is attended 
 with the greatest satisfaction incident to humanity, 
 therefore the flatterer always endeavours to render 
 his conversation highly pleasant and agreeable. 
 
 Again, because all acts of kindness and mutual 
 beneficence are the constant attendants upon true 
 friendship (on which account we usually say, " a 
 friend is more necessary than fire or water"), there- 
 
fore the flatterer is ready upon every occasion to ob- 
 trude his service upon you, and will, with an indefati- 
 gable bustle and zeal, seek to oblige you, if he can. 
 In the next/place, the parasite observing that all 
 true friendship takes its origin from a concurrence of 
 humours and inclinations, and that the same passions, 
 the same aversions and desires, are the first cement 
 of a true and lasting friendship ; he turns immediately 
 all plastic matter, capable of every form, like soft 
 w.ax, pliant and yielding to any impression, that the 
 person on whom he designs shall think fit to stamp 
 upon him ; and, in fine, so neatly resembles the ori- 
 ginal, that one would swear, 
 
 Sure thou the very Achilles art, and not his son. 
 
 But the most exquisite fineness of a flatterer con- 
 sists in his imitation of that freedom of discourse 
 which friends particularly use in mutually reprehend- 
 ing each other. For finding that men usually take it 
 for what it really is, the natural language of friend- 
 ship, as peculiar to it as certain notes or voices are to 
 certain animals, and that, on the contrary, a shy re- 
 served sheepishness looks both rude and unfriendly, 
 he lets not even this proper character of a friend escape 
 his imitation ; but as skilful cooks use to correct 
 luscious meats with sharp and poignant sauce, that 
 they may not be so apt to overcharge the stomach, 
 so he seasons his flattery now and then with a little 
 smartness and severity, lest the fulsomeness of re- 
 peated dissimulation should pall and cloy the com- 
 pany. And yet his reprehensions always carry some- 
 thing in them that is not true and genuine ; he seems 
 to do it but with a kind of a sneering and grinning 
 countenance at the best ; and though his reproofs may 
 
* PLUTARCH, 98 
 
 possibly tickle the ear, yet they never strike effectu- 
 ally upon the heart. * * * * 
 
 The flatterer, observing how congenial it is to our 
 natures to delight in the conversation of those who 
 are, as it were, the counter-parts of ourselves, makes 
 his first approaches to our affections at this avenue, 
 where he gradually advances (like one making towards 
 a wild beast in a pasture, with a design to tame and 
 bring it to hand) by accommodating himself to the 
 same studies, business, and colour of life, with the 
 person upon whom he designs, till at last he gives 
 him an opportunity to catch him, and becomes tracta- 
 ble by the man who strokes him. All this while the 
 flatterer falls foul upon those courses of life, persons, 
 and things, he perceives his dupe to disapprove, and 
 then again as extravagantly commends those he is 
 pleased to honour with his approbation ; still per- 
 suading the fop, that his choice and dislike are not the 
 result of passion, but of a sound and discerning 
 judgment. 
 
 Well then, by what signs or tokens shall we be 
 able to know this counterfeit copy of ourselves, from 
 that which is true and genuine ? 
 
 In the first place, we must accurately remark upon 
 the whole tenor of his life and conversation, whether 
 or no the resemblance he pretends to the original be 
 of any continuance, natural and easy, and all of a 
 piece ; whether he square his actions according to any 
 one steady and uniform model, as becomes an inge- 
 nuous lover of conversation and friendship, which is 
 all of one thread, and still like itself ; for this is a true 
 friend indeed. But the flatterer, who has no principles 
 in him, and leads not a life properly his own, but 
 forms and moulds it according to the various humours 
 
94 PLUTARCH. 
 
 and caprices of those lie designs to bubble, is never 
 one and the same man, but a mere dapple or trimmer, 
 who changes shapes with his company, like water that 
 always turns and winds itself into the figure of the 
 channel through which it flows. Apes, it seems, are 
 usually caught by their antic mimicry of the motions 
 and gesticulations of men ; and yet the men them- 
 selves are trepanned by the same craft of imitation in 
 a flatterer, who adapts himself to their several hu- 
 mours, fencing and wrestling with one, singing and 
 dancing with another. If he is in chase of a spark 
 that delights in a pack of dogs, he follows him at his 
 heels, hallooing almost as loud as Hippolytus in the 
 tragedy of Phsedra : 
 
 O what a pleasure 'tis, ye gods, to wind 
 
 The shrill-mouthed horn, and chase the dappled hind : 
 
 And yet the huntsman himself is the game he designs 
 for the toils. If he be in pursuit of some bookish 
 young gentleman, then he is always poring, nourishes 
 his reverend beard down to his heels, wears a tatter- 
 ed cloak, affects the careless indifFerency of a philoso- 
 pher, and can now discourse of nothing under Plato's 
 triangles and rectangles. If he chance to fall into 
 the acquaintance of a drunken, idle debauchee, who 
 has got an estate, 
 
 Then sly Ulysses throws away his rags, 
 
 puts off his long robe, mows down his fruitless crop 
 of beard, drinks briskly, laughs modishly on the walks, 
 and drolls handsomely upon the philosophical fops of 
 the town. * * * * * 
 
 The opinions of a flatterer are as mutable and in- 
 constant as the colours of the polypus ; he is never 
 
PLUTARCH!. 95 
 
 constant to himself, nor properly his own man ; all 
 his passions, his love and hatred, his joy and sorrow, 
 are borrowed and counterfeit ; and, in a word, like a 
 looking-glass, he only receives and represents the se- 
 veral faces or images of other men's affections and 
 humours. Do but discommend one of your acquaint- 
 ance a little in his company, and he will tell you it 
 is a wonder you never found him out all this while, 
 for his part he never fancied him in his life. Change 
 but your style and commend him, he presently swears 
 you oblige him in it, gives you a thousand thanks for 
 the gentleman's sake, and believes your character of 
 him to be just. Tell him you have thoughts of alter- 
 ing your course of life ; as for instance* to retire from 
 all public employs to privacy and ease : he immedi- 
 ately wishes that he had retreated long ago from the 
 hurry and drudgery of business, and the odium that 
 attends it. Seem but again inclinable to an active 
 life — " Why now (says he) you speak like yourself ; 
 leisure and ease are sweet, it is true, but withal mean 
 and inglorious." When you have thus trepanned 
 him, it would be proper to cashier him with some 
 such reply as this : 
 
 How now, my friend, what quite another man ? 
 
 I abhor a fellow who servilely complies with whatso- 
 ever I propose, and keeps pace with me in all my mo- 
 tions (my shadow can do that better than yourself) ; 
 but my friend must deal plainly and impartially, and 
 assist me faithfully with his judgment. * * 
 
 As a true friend endeavours to copy only the fair- 
 est originals ; so, on the contrary, the flatterer, like the 
 cameleon, which puts on all colours but the innocent 
 white, being unable to reach those strokes of virtue 
 
•&6 ^LUTARCIii 
 
 which are worth his imitation, takes care, howevet* 
 that no failure or imperfection escape him. As un- 
 skilful painters, when th^y cannot hit the features and 
 air of a face, content themselves with the faint re- 
 semblance in a wrinkle, a wart, or a scar ; so he takes 
 up with his friend's intemperance, superstition, cho- 
 Jericness, severity to his servants, distrust of his re- 
 lations and domestics, or the like. For, besides that a 
 natural propensity to evil inclines him always to fol- 
 low the worst examples, he imagines his assuming 
 other men's vices will best secure him from the suspi- 
 cion of being disaffected towards them , for their fidelity 
 is often suspected who seem dissatisfied with faults > 
 and wish a reformation ; which very thing lost Dion 
 in the good opinion of DionysiuSj SOmius in Philip's, 
 Cleomenes in Ptolemy's, and at last proved the occa- 
 sion of their ruin : and therefore the flatterer pretends 
 not only to the good humour of a companion, but to 
 the faithfulness of a friend too, and would be thought 
 to have so great a respect for you, that he cannot be 
 disgusted at the very worst of your actions, as being 
 indeed of the same make and constitution with your- 
 self. Hence you shall have him pretend a share in 
 the most common casualties that befal another ; nay, 
 in complaisance, feign even diseases themselves : in 
 company of those who are thick of hearing, he is pre- 
 sently half-deaf ; and with the dim-sighted, can see 
 no more than they do. So the parasites about Diony- 
 sius, at an entertainment, to humour his blindness, 
 stumbled one upon another, and jostled the dishes off 
 his table. 
 
 But there are others who refine upon the former, by 
 a pretended fellow suffering in the more private con^ 
 cernments of life, whereby they wriggle themselves 
 
PLUTARCH. 97 
 
 deeper into the affections of those they flatter ; as, if 
 they find a man unhappily married, or distrustful of 
 his children or domestics, they spare not their own 
 family, but immediately entertain you with some la- 
 mentable story of the hard fortune they have met with 
 in their children, their wife, their servants or relations. 
 For by the parallel circumstances they pretend to, they 
 seem more passionately concerned for the misfortunes 
 of their friends ; who, as if they had already received 
 some pawn and assurance of their fidelity, blab forth 
 those secrets which they cannot afterwards hand- 
 somely retract, and dare not betray the least distrust 
 of their new confidant for the future. * * * 
 
 I must not omit the other artifice observable in his 
 imitation ; which is this : That if at any time he 
 counterfeit the good qualities of his friend, he imme- 
 diately yields him the pre-eminence : whereas there is 
 no competition, no emulation or envy, amongst true 
 friends, but whether they are equally accomplished or 
 no, they bear the same even unconcerned temper of 
 mind towards each other. But the flatterer, remem- 
 bering that he is but to act another's part, pretends 
 only to such strokes as fall short of the original, and 
 is willing to confess himself outdone in any thing but 
 his vices, wherein alone he claims the precedency to 
 himself; as, if the man he is to wheedle be difficult 
 and morose, he is quite overrun with choler ; if some- 
 thing superstitious, he is a perfect enthusiast ; if a little 
 in love, for his part he is most desperately smitten : 
 I laughed heartily at such a passage, says one ; but 
 I had like to have died with laughter, sa)^s the other. 
 But now, in speaking of any laudable qualities, he 
 inverts his style ; as s I can run fast enough, says he* 
 but you perfectly fly. I can sit upon a horse tolerably 
 
98 PLUTARCH. 
 
 well, but, alas ! what's that to this Hippocentaur for 
 good horsemanship ! I have a tolerably good genius 
 for poetry, and am none of the worst versifiers of the 
 age; 
 
 But thunder is the language of you gods, not mine. 
 
 And thus at the same time he obliges his friend both 
 in approving of his abilities * by his owning them, 
 and in confessing him incomparable in his way, by 
 his coming short of his example. * * * 
 
 Thucydides observes, that in the time of war and 
 sedition, the names of good and evil are wont to be 
 confounded : as, foolhardiness is called a generous 
 espousal of a friend's quarrel ; a provident delay is 
 nicknamed cowardice ; modesty, a mere pretext for 
 unmanliness ; a prudent slow inspection into things, 
 downright laziness. In like manner, if you observe 
 it, a flatterer terms a profuse man liberal ; a timorous 
 man, wary ; a dull fellow, grave ; a stingy miser,- 
 frugal ; an amorous youngster, kind and good-natur- 
 ed ; a passionate proud fool, stout ; and a mean spi- 
 rited slave, courteous and observing. As Plato some- 
 where remarks, that a lover, who is always a flatterer 
 of his beloved object, styles a flat nose amiable ; and a 
 hawk nose, princely ; the black, virile ; and the fair, 
 the offspring of the gods : and observes particularly, 
 thatXhe appellation of honey-coloured is nothing but 
 the daub of a gallant, who is willing to set off his mis- 
 tress's pale complexion. Now indeed, an ugly fellow^ 
 bantered into an opinion that he is handsome, or a lit- 
 tle man magnified into tall and portly, cannot lie long 
 under the mistake, nor receive any great injury by the 
 cheat : but when vice is extolled by the name of vir- 
 tue, so that a man is induced to sin, not only without 
 
PLUTARCH. 99 
 
 regret, but with joy and triumph, and is hardened be-» 
 yond the modesty of a blush for his enormities ; this 
 sort of flattery, I say, has been fatal even to whole 
 kingdoms. * * * # * * 
 
 Others again, like painters who enhance the lustre 
 and beauty of a curious piece by the shades which 
 surround it, slily extol and encourage men in their 
 vices, by deriding and railing at their contrary virtues. 
 Thus, in the company of the debauched, the covetous, 
 and the extortioner, they run down temperance and 
 modesty as mere rusticity ; and justice and content- 
 ment with our present condition argue nothing, in 
 their phrase but a dastardly spirit, and an impotence 
 to action. If they fall into the acquaintance of lub- 
 bers, who love laziness and ease, they stick not to ex- 
 plode the necessary administration of public affairs, as 
 a troublesome intermeddling in other men's business ; 
 and a desire to bear office, as an useless empty thirst 
 after a name. To wheedle in with an orator they 
 scout a philosopher ; and who so gracious as they with 
 the jilts of the town, by laughing at wives who are 
 faithful to their husbands' beds, as impotent and 
 country-bred ? And what is the most egregious stra- 
 tagem of all the rest, the flatterer shall traduce him- 
 self rather than want a fair opportunity to commend 
 another ; as wrestlers put their body in a low posture, 
 that they may the better overcome their adversaries. 
 I am a very coward at sea (says he), impatient of 
 any fatigue, and cannot digest the least ill language ; 
 but such an one fears no colours, has no fault, is an 
 admirable good man, bears all things with great 
 patience and evenness of temper. * * 
 
 He who shall give himself the labour to observe, 
 will find that the discourses of a flatterer contribute 
 
 i 
 
100 PLUTARCH. 
 
 nothing to the improvdment of our prudence and un- 
 derstanding, but either only entertain us with the 
 pleasure of some love intrigue, or make us indiscreet- 
 ly angry, or envious, or pufis us up into an empty trou- 
 blesome opinion of ourselves, or increase our sorrows 
 by pretendiug to share in them, or render us difficult, 
 stingy, and incredulous, sour, timorous, and jealous, 
 with several idle malicious stories, hints, and conjec- 
 tures of his own. For he always fastens upon and 
 pampers some distemper of the mind, growing, like a 
 blotch or boil, upon its inflamed or putrid part only. 
 Are you angry ? revenge yourself, says he : covet 
 you any thing ? have it : are you afraid ? fly : sus- 
 pect you this, or that ? believe it. 
 
 But if we find it something difficult to discover him 
 in these attempts upon our passions, because they 
 often violently overpower all the forces of our reason 
 to the contrary ; we may then trace him in other in- 
 stances of his knavery ; for he always acts consonant 
 to himself. As, if you are afraid of a surfeit, and 
 thereupon lie in suspense about your bath and diet, a 
 friend indeed will advise you to act cautiously, and 
 take care of your health ; but the flatterer persuades 
 you to the bath, bids you feed freely, and not starve 
 yourself with mortification. If he observes you want 
 briskness and spirit for action, as being unwilling to 
 undergo the fatigues of a journey, or of a voyage, he 
 will immediately tell you, " there is no haste ; the 
 business may be well enough deferred, or else trans- 
 acted by proxy." If at any time you have promised 
 to lend or give a friend a sum of money, and upon 
 second thoughts would gladly retract your word, but 
 are ashamed to do it ; the flatterer puts his advice into 
 the worst scale, inclines the balance to the saving side, 
 
PLUTARCH, 101 
 
 and strips you of your squeamish modesty, telling you, 
 that " you ought not to be so prodigal, who live at 
 great expenses, and are willing to relieve others beside 
 him." And therefore, unless we be mere strangers 
 to ourselves, to our own desires, fears, confidence, or 
 the like, the flatterer cannot easily escape our dis- 
 covery ; for he is the great patron of these disorderly 
 passions, endeavouring always to wind us up to ex- 
 cesses of this kind. * * * * * 
 
 The temper of a friend is sincere, natural, without 
 paint or varnish ; but that of a flatterer, as it is cor- 
 rupt and diseased in itself, so stands it in need of 
 many, and those curious and exquisite remedies too, 
 to correct it. And therefore you shall have friends, 
 upon an accidental' rencounter, without either giving 
 or receiving a formal salute, content themselves to 
 speak their mutual kindness and familiarity in a nod 
 and a smile : but the flatterer pursues you, runs to 
 meet you, and is ready to kiss your hand before he 
 comes at you; and if you chance but to see and salute 
 him first, he swears you must excuse his rudeness, and 
 will produce you witness that he did not see you, if 
 you please. Thus again, a friend dwells not upon 
 every trifling punctilio, is not ceremonious and punc- 
 tual in the transacting of business, is not inquisitive, 
 nor intrudes into every piece of service : but the par- 
 asite is all obedience, all perpetual indefatigable in- 
 dustry, admits no rival in his services, but will wait 
 your commands, which if you lay not upon him, he 
 seems mightily afflicted, the unhappiest man in the 
 world ! ' * * * * * * * 
 
 No real friend will assist in the execution of a de- 
 sign, unless, being first advised with, he approve of 
 it, as either honest or useful ; whereas the flatterer, 
 
102 PLUTAftdH* 
 
 though permitted to consult and give his opinion about 
 an undertaking, not only out of a paltry desire to com- 
 ply with and gratify his friend at any rate, but lest 
 he should be looked upon as disaffected to the busi- 
 ness, survilely closes with and advances his proposal, 
 how unreasonable soever. * * * * 
 
 The seemingly good offices of a flatterer have noth- 
 ing of that sincerity and integrity, that simplicity and 
 ingenuity, which recommend a kindness ; but are al- 
 ways attended with bustle and noise, hurry, sweat, and 
 contracting the brow, to enhance your opinion of the 
 great pains he has taken for you ; like a picture drawn 
 in gaudy colours, with folded torn garments, full of 
 angles and wrinkles, to make us believe it an elabo- 
 rate piece, and done to the life. Besides, the flatterer 
 is so extremely troublesome, in recounting the weary 
 steps he has taken, the cares he has had upon him, 
 the persons he has been forced to disoblige, with a 
 thousand other inconveniences he has laboured under 
 upon your account, that you will be apt to say, the 
 business was never worth all this din and clatter about 
 it. For a kindness once upbraided loses its grace, 
 turns a burden, and becomes intolerable. But the 
 flatterer not only reproaches us with his services al- 
 ready past, but at the very instant of their perform- 
 ance ; whereas, if a friend be obliged to speak of any 
 civility done another, he modestly mentions it indeed, 
 but attributes nothing to himself. * * * 
 
 A friend, if you want his assistance in a chargeable, 
 dangerous, and laborious enterprise, embarks in the 
 design cheerfully, and without reserve ; but if such 
 as will not stand with his reputation and honour, he 
 fairly desires to be excused. Whereas, on the con- 
 trary, if you offer to put a flatterer upon a difficult 
 
or hazardous employment, he shuffles you ofY, and 
 begs your pardon. For, but sound him, as you rap a 
 vessel, to try whether it be whole or cracked, full or 
 empty, and he shams you off with the nosie of some 
 paltry frivolous excuses : but engage him in any mean, 
 sordid, and inglorious service, abuse him, kick him, 
 trample on him, he bears all patiently, and knows no 
 affront. For as the ape, who cannot keep the house 
 like a dog, or bear a burden like a horse, or plough 
 like an ox, serves to be abused, to play the buffoon, 
 and to make sport ; so the parasite, who can neither 
 plead your cause, nor be your counsel, nor espouse 
 your quarrel, as being averse from all painful and 
 good offices, denies you in nothing that may contri- 
 bute to your pleasure, turns pander to your lust, pro- 
 vides you a handsome entertainment, looks that your 
 bill be reasonable, and sneaks to your miss ; but shall 
 treat your relations with disrespect, and impudently 
 turn your wife out of doors, if you commission him. 
 So that you may easily discover him in this particu- 
 lar ; for, put him upon the most base and dirty ac- 
 tions, he will not spare his own pains, provided he 
 can but gratify you. 
 
 There remains yet another way to discover him, by 
 his inclinations towards your intimates and familiars. 
 For there is nothing more agreeable to a true and sor- 
 dial acquaintance than to love with, and be beloved 
 of, many ; and therefore he always sedulously en- 
 deavours to gain his friend the affections and esteem 
 of other men. For, being of opinion that all things 
 ought to be in common amongst friends, he thinks 
 nothing ought to be more so than they themselves. 
 But the faithless, the adulterate, and friend of base 
 alloy, who is conscious to himself of the disservice he 
 
104 PLUTARCH. 
 
 does true friendship, by that false com of it which he 
 puts upon us, is naturally full of emulation and envy, 
 even towards those of his own profession, endeavour- 
 ing to outdo them in their common talent of babbling 
 and buffoonery, whilst he reveres and cringes to his 
 betters, whom he dares no more vie with than a foot- 
 man with a Lydian chariot, or lead, (to use Simon- 
 idas's expression) with refined gold. Therefore this 
 light and empty counterfeit, finding he wants weight, 
 when put into the balance against a solid and sub- 
 stantial friend, endeavours to remove him as far as he 
 can ; like him, who having painted a cock extremely 
 ill, commanded his servant to take the original out 
 of sight ; and if he cannot compass his design, then 
 he proceeds to compliment and ceremony, pretending 
 outwardly to admire him, as a person far beyond 
 himself, whilst by secret calumnies he blackens and 
 undermines him. 
 
 THE FRIENDS OF THE GREAT. 
 
 The palaces of noblemen and princes appear guard- 
 ed with splendid retinues of diligent obsequious ser- 
 vants, and every room is crowded with a throng of 
 visiters, who caress the great man witli all the en- 
 dearing gestures and expressions that wit and breed- 
 ing can invent ; and it may be thought, I confess, at 
 first sight, that such are very fortunate, in having so 
 many cordial real friends at their command ; whereas 
 it is all bare pageantry and show. Change the scene, 
 and you may observe a far greater number of flies 
 as industriously busy in their kitchens ; and as these 
 would vanish were the dishes empty and clean, so 
 neither would that other sort of insects pay any fur- 
 ther respect, were nothing to be got by it. 
 
PLUTARCH. 105 
 
 TRUE FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 There are chiefly these requisites to true friend 
 s hip : — virtue, as a thing lovely and desirable ; fami- 
 liar conversation, as pleasant ; and advantage, as ne- 
 cessary. For we must first choose a friend upon a 
 right judgment made of his excellent qualities ; hav- 
 ing chosen him, we must perceive a pleasure in his 
 converse ; and upon occasion he must be useful to 
 us in our concerns : all which (especially judgment 
 in our choice, the main point of all) are inconsistent 
 with a numerous acquaintance* 
 
 GARRULITY. 
 
 In hopes that there is yet some room to try an ex- 
 periment for the cure of this distemper, let us begin 
 with this golden sentence to the impertinent prater — 
 
 Be silent, boy, and thou wilt find i' the end 
 What benefits on silent lips attend. 
 
 Among which, two of the first, and chiefest, are, as 
 well to hear, as to be heard. To either of which these 
 talkative companions can never attain ; so unhappy 
 they are still to meet with disappointments, though 
 they desire it never so much. For, as for those other 
 distempers of the soul, such as avarice, ambition, and 
 exorbitant love of pleasure, they have this happiness — 
 to enjoy what they so eagerly covet. But this is that 
 which most afflicts these idle prattlers, that being de- 
 sirous of nothing more than of company that will hear 
 them prate, they can never meet with it, in regard that 
 all men avoid their society ; and whether sitting in a 
 knot together, or walking, so soon as they behold a 
 
106 PLUTARCH. 
 
 prattler advancing towards them, they presently give 
 warning to each other, and adjourn to another place. 
 And as, when there happens a deep silence in any 
 assembly, so that all the company seems to be mute, 
 we say that Mercury is got among them ; so when a 
 fool, full of noise and talk, enters into any room where 
 friends and acquaintance are met to discourse, or else 
 to feast and be merry, all people are hushed of a 
 sudden, afraid of giving him any occasion to set his 
 tongue upon the career ; but if he once begin to open 
 his mouth, up they rise, and away they trip ; like 
 seamen foreseeing a sudden storm, and rolling of the 
 waves, when they hear the north wind begin to whistle 
 from some adjoining promontory, and hastening into 
 harbour. Whence it comes to pass, that they never 
 can meet with any that are willing, either to eat, or 
 drink, or lodge with them in the same room, either 
 upon the road or upon a voyage, unless constrained 
 thereto by necessity. For so importunate he is, and 
 in all places, that sometimes he will pull you by the 
 coat, sometimes by the beard, and sometimes be 
 hunching your sides, to make you speak. How 
 highly then, according to the saying of Archilochus, 
 are to be prized a swift pair of legs ! Nay, by Jove, 
 it was the opinion of wise Aristotle himself: for he, 
 being perplexed with an egregious prater, and tired 
 out with his absurd stories, and idle repetitions of 
 " and is not this a wonderful thing, Aristotle ? " " No 
 wonder at all (said he) in this ; but if a man should 
 stand still to hear you prate thus, who had legs to run 
 away, that were a wonder indeed !" To another of 
 the same stamp, that, after a long tale of a roasted 
 horse, excused himself by saying, " that he was afraid 
 he had tired him with his prolixity," the philosopher 
 
PLUTARCH. 107 
 
 replied, "no, upon my word, for I never minded 
 what you said." On the other hand, should it so 
 fall out as for there to be no avoiding the vexation of 
 one of these chattering fops, Nature has afforded us 
 this happiness, that it is in the power of the soul to 
 lend the outward ears of the body, to endure the 
 brunt of the noise, while she retires to the remoter 
 apartments of the mind, and there employs herself 
 in better and more useful thoughts ; by which means* 
 those sonorous babblers are at the same time disap-* 
 pointed, as well of auditors* as of people who be- 
 lieve what they say» 
 
 GOVERNMENT* 
 
 Virtue is not so weak as Sophocles would make 
 her, nor is the sentiment just which he puts in the 
 mouth of one of the persons of his drama : 
 
 — The firmest mind will fail 
 Beneath misfortune's stroke, and, stunned, depart 
 From its sage plan of action. 
 
 All the advantage that Fortune can truly be affirm- 
 ed to gain in her combats with the good and virtuous 
 is, the bringing upon them unjust reproach and cen- 
 sure, instead of the honour and esteem which are 
 their due, and by that means lessening the confidence 
 the world would have in their virtue. 
 
 It is imagined, indeed, that when affairs prosper, 
 the people, elated with their strength and success, be- 
 have with greater insolence to good ministers ; but it 
 is the very reverse. Misfortunes always sour their 
 temper ; the least thing will then disturb them ; they 
 take fire at trifles ; and they are impatient of the least 
 severity of expression. He who reproves their faults 
 
108 PLUTARCH. 
 
 seems to reproach them with their misfortunes, and 
 every bold and free address is considered as an insult. 
 As honey makes a wounded or ulcerated member 
 smart, so it often happens, that a remonstrance, 
 though pregnant with truth and sense, hurts and irri- 
 tates the distressed, if it is not gentle and mild in the 
 application. Hence Homer often expresses such things 
 as are pleasant by the word menoikes* which signifies 
 what is symphonious to the mind, what soothes its 
 weakness* and bears not hard upon its inclinations. 
 Inflamed eyes love to dwell upon dark brown-colours, 
 and avoid such as are bright and glaring. So it is 
 with a state, in any series of ill-conducted and un- 
 prosperous measures ; such is the feeble and relaxed 
 condition of its nerves, that it cannot bear the least 
 alarm ; the voice of truth, which brings its faults to 
 its remembrance, gives it inexpressible pain, though 
 not only salutary, but necessary ; and it will not be 
 heard, except its harshness is modified. It is a dif- 
 ficult task to govern such a people ; for if the man 
 who tells them the truth falls the first sacrifice, he 
 who flatters them at last perishes with them, 
 
 The mathematicians say, the sun does not move in 
 the same direction with the heavens, nor yet in a 
 direction quite opposite, but circulating with a gentle 
 and almost insensible obliquity, gives the whole sys- 
 tem such a temperature as tends to its preservation. 
 So in a system of government, if a statesman is deter- 
 mined to describe a straight line, and in all things to 
 go against the inclinations of the people $ such rigour 
 must make his administration odious ; and, on the 
 other hand, if he suffers himself to be carried along 
 with their most erroneous motions, the government 
 will soon be in a tottering and ruinous state. The 
 
PLUTARCtC. 109 
 
 latter is the more common error of the two. But the 
 politics which keep a middle course, sometimes 
 slackening the reins, and sometimes keeping a tighter 
 hand, indulging the people in one point to gain another 
 that is more important, are the only measures that 
 are formed upon rational principles : for a well-timed 
 condescension and moderate treatment will bring 
 men to concur in many useful schemes, which they 
 could not be brought into by despotism and violence. 
 It must be acknowledged, that this medium is difficult 
 to hit upon, because it requires a mixture of dignity 
 with gentleness ; but when the just temperature is 
 gained, it presents the happiest and most perfect har- 
 mony that can be conceived. It is by this sublime 
 harmony the Supreme Being governs the world ; for 
 nature is not dragged into obedience to his com- 
 mands, and though his influence is irresistible, it is 
 rational and mild. 
 
 JUSTICE TO ENEMIES. 
 
 This is the greatest, and by far the most illustrious 
 instance of virtue, that we accustom ourselves to deal 
 justly and uprightly with our enemies ; then we shall 
 not fail to behave ourselves so towards our friends. 
 For as Simonidas was wont to take notice, that there 
 was no lark without its crest ; so the disposition of 
 men is naturally pregnant with strife, suspicion, and 
 envying ; chiefly theirs, who, as Pindar observes, are 
 without understanding, and have no solid judgment 
 in things. No man can do any thing that will tend 
 more to his own profit, and the preservation of his 
 peace, than utterly to purge out of his mind these 
 corrupt affections, and cast them off as the very sink 
 of all iniquity, that they may create no more mischief 
 
110 PLUTARCH. 
 
 between himself and his friends. This, Onomade- 
 mus, a judicious and wise man, understood well, who? 
 when he was of the prevailing side in a civil commo- 
 tion at Chios, gave this counsel to his friends, that 
 they should not quite destroy or drive away those of 
 the adverse party ; but let some abide there, for fear 
 they should begin to fall out among themselves, as 
 soon as their enemies were all out of the way. There- 
 fore if these uneasy dispositions of the mind be spent 
 and consumed upon enemies, they would never mo- 
 lest or disquiet our friends. Neither doth Hesiod ap- 
 prove of one potter's envying another, or that a 
 neighbour and relation should resent it ill, that his 
 brother prospers, and is successful in the world. But if 
 there be no other way whereby we may be delivered 
 from emulation, envy, or contention ; we may suffer 
 our minds to vent these passions upon the prosperity 
 of our enemies, and give a little loose to our anger 
 that way. For as gardeners that have knowledge 
 and experience in plants, expect their roses and vio- 
 lets should grow the better by being set near leeks 
 and onions, because all the sour juices of the earth 
 are conveyed into these — so an enemy, by attract- 
 ing to himself our vicious and peevish qualities, 
 may render us less humoursome, more candid or 
 ingenuous to our friends that are in a better or more 
 happy state than ourselves. 
 
 Wherefore let us enter the lists with our enemies, 
 and contend with them for true glory, lawful empire, 
 and just gain. Let us not so much debase ourselves, 
 as to be troubled and fret at any possessions they 
 enjoy more than we have. Let us rather carefully 
 observe those good qualities wherein our enemies ex- 
 cel us ; so that by these motives we may be excited to 
 
PLUTARCH. Ill 
 
 outda them in honest diligence, indefatigable indus- 
 try, prudent caution, and exemplary sobriety : as 
 Tkemistocles complained that the victory gained by 
 $Jiltiades, at Marathon, would not let him sleep. 
 But whosoever views his adversary exalted far abo\e 
 him in the happiness and wealth of this world, more 
 eminent in the administration of public affairs, or in 
 the favour of great men, and doth not put forth all 
 his strength and power to get before him in these 
 things ; this man commonly pines away, and by 
 degrees sinks into the sloth and misery of an en- 
 vious and unactive life. 
 
 And we may observe, that envy and hatred do 
 raise such clouds in the understanding, that a man 
 shall not be able to pass a right judgment concerning 
 things which he hates. But whosoever with an im- 
 partial eye beholds, and with a sincere mind judges, 
 of the life and manners, discourses and actions, of his 
 enemy, he will soon understand, that many of those 
 things that raise his envy were gotten by honest care, 
 a discreet providence, and virtuous deeds. Thus the 
 love of honourable and brave actions may be kindled 
 and advanced in him ; an idle and lazy life may be 
 contemned and forsaken. But if our enemies arrive 
 at high places in the courts of princes, and by flat- 
 tery or frauds, by bribery and gifts, we should not be 
 troubled at it, but rather pleased in comparing our 
 undisguised and honest way of living with theirs 
 that is quite contrary. For Plato, who was a com- 
 petent judge, was of opinion, that virtue was a more 
 valuable treasure than all the riches above, or all the 
 mines under, the earth. 
 
 So Solon believed, who was wont to say, he would 
 not exchange the enjoyment of virtue for the most 
 
112 PLUTARCH. 
 
 popular applauses in theatres, the loftiest seats among: 
 eunuchs, concubines and noblemen. For nothing 
 that is worth any one's appetite, nothing that i& 
 handsome or becoming a man, can proceed from that 
 which is in itself evil and base. But, as Plato re- 
 peats once and again, the lover cannot see the faults 
 of the thing or person that he loves, and we appre- 
 hend soonest what our enemies do amiss. The laws 
 of reason and humility, however, oblige us not to 
 triumph at their miscarriages, nor to be grieved when 
 they do any thing that deserves praise and commenda- 
 tion. But we are bound to consider in both respects ; 
 how we may render ourselves better than they are, 
 by avoiding what is faulty and vicious in them ; and 
 be sure we shall not be the worse, if we imitate 
 them in what they do excel. 
 
 LYSANDER AND SYLLA COMPARED. 
 
 We have now gone through the life of Sylla, and 
 will proceed to the comparison. This, then, Lysan- 
 der and he have in common, that they were entirely 
 indebted to themselves for their rise. But Lysander 
 has this advantage, that the high offices he gained 
 were with the consent of the people, while the con- 
 stitution of his country was in a sound and healthy 
 state ; and that he got nothing by force or by acting 
 against the laws — 
 
 In civil broils the worst of men may rise. 
 
 So it was then in Rome. The people were so corrupt, 
 and the republic in so sickly a condition, that tyrants 
 sprung up on every side. Nor is it any wonder if 
 Sylla gained the ascendant, at a time when wretches 
 like Glaucius and Satuminus expelled such men as 
 
PLUTAUCH, 113 
 
 Metellus ; when the sons of consuls were murdered 
 in the public assemblies ; when men supported their 
 seditious purposes with soldiers purchased with 
 money, and laws were enacted with fire and sword 
 and every species of violence. 
 
 In such a state of things, I do not blame the man 
 who raised himself to supreme power ; all I say is, 
 that when the commonwealth was in so depraved and 
 desperate a condition, power was no evidence of merit. 
 But since the laws and public virtue never flourished 
 more at Sparta than when Lysander was sent upon 
 the highest and most important commissions, we may 
 conclude that he was the best among the virtuous, 
 and first among the great. Thus the one, though he 
 often surrendered the command, had it as often re- 
 stored to him by his fellow-citizens, because his vir- 
 tue, which alone has a claim to. the prize of honour, 
 continued still the same. The other, after he was 
 once appointed general, usurped the command, and 
 kept in arms for ten years, sometimes styling him- 
 self Consul, sometimes Proconsul, and sometimes 
 Dictator, but was always in reality a tyrant. 
 
 It is true, as we have observed above, Lysander did 
 attempt to make a change in the Spartan constitution, 
 but he took a milder and more legal method than 
 Sylla. It was by persuasion, not by arms, he pro- 
 ceeded ; nor did he attempt to overturn every thing 
 at once. He only wanted to correct the establishment 
 as to kings. And indeed it seemed natural that in a 
 state which had the supreme direction of Greece, on 
 account of its virtue, rather than any other superior- 
 ity, merit should gain the sceptre. For as the hun- 
 ter and the jockey do not so much consider the breed, 
 as the dog or horse already bred ; (for what if the foal 
 
114 PLUTARCH. 
 
 should prove a mule ?) so the politician would entirely 
 miss his aim, if, instead of inquiring into the qualities 
 of a person for first magistrate, he looked upon 
 nothing but his family. Thus the Spartans deposed 
 some of their kings, because they had not princely 
 talents, but were persons of no worth or consequence. 
 Vice, even with high birth, is dishonourable ; and the 
 honour which virtue enjoys is all her own ; family 
 has no share in it. 
 
 They were both guilty of injustice ; but Lysander 
 for his friends, and Sylla against his. Most of Ly- 
 sander's frauds were committed for his creatures, and 
 it was to advance them to high stations and absolute 
 power that he dipped his hands in so much blood : 
 whereas Syila envied Pompey the army, and Dola- 
 bella the naval command he had given them ; and 
 he attempted to take them away. And when Lu- 
 cretius Gfella, ' after the greatest and most faithful 
 services, solicited the consulship, he ordered him to 
 be despatched before his eyes. Terror and dismay 
 seized all the world, when they saw one of his best 
 friends thus murdered. 
 
 If we consider their behaviour with respect to riches 
 and pleasure, we shall find the one the prince, and 
 the other the tyrant. When the power and authority 
 of Lysander were so extensive, he was not guilty of 
 one act of intemperance or youthful dissipation. iie ; > 
 if any man, avoided the sting of that proverb, Lions 
 within doors, and foxes without. So sober, so 
 regular, so worthy of a Spartan, was his manner of 
 living. Sylla, on the other hand, neither let poverty 
 set bounds to his passions in his youth, nor years in 
 his age. But, as Sal lust says, while he was giving 
 his countrymen laws for the regulation of marriages 
 
PLUTARCH, 115 
 
 and for promoting sobriety, he indulged himself in 
 adultery and every species of lust. 
 
 By his debaucheries he so drained the public trea- 
 sures, that he was obliged to let many cities in al- 
 liance and friendship with Rome purchase indepen- 
 dence and the privilege of being governed only by 
 their own laws ; though at the same time he was daily 
 confiscating the richest and best houses in Rome. 
 Still more immense were the sums he squandered 
 upon his flatterers. Indeed, what bounds or modera- 
 tion could be expected in his private gifts, when his 
 heart was dilated with wine, if we do but attend to one 
 instance of his behaviour in public ? One day as he 
 was selling a considerable estate, which he wanted a 
 friend to have at an under-price, another offered more, 
 and the crier proclaiming the advance, he turned with 
 indignation to the people, and said, " What outrage 
 and tyranny is this, my friends, that I am not al- 
 lowed to dispose of my own spoils as I please ?" 
 
 Far from such rapaciousness, Lysander, to the 
 spoils he sent his countrymen, added his own share. 
 Not that I praise him in that : for perhaps he hurt 
 Sparta more essentially by the money he brought into 
 it, than Sylla did Rome by that which he took from 
 it. I only mention it as a proof of the little regard he 
 had for riches. It was something very particular, 
 however, that Sylla, while he abandoned himself to 
 all the profusion of luxury and expense, should bring 
 the Romans to sobriety ; whereas Lysander subjected 
 the Spartans to those passions which he restrained in 
 himself. The former acted worse than his own laws 
 directed, and the other brought his people to act worse 
 than himself : for he filled Sparta with the love of 
 
116 PLUTARCH, 
 
 that which he well knew how to despise» Such 
 they were in their political capacity. 
 
 As to military achievements and acts of generalship^ 
 the number of victories, and the dangers he had to 
 combat, Sylla is beyond comparison. Lysander, in^ 
 deed, gained two naval victories ; to which We may 
 add his taking of Athens ; for, though that affair wag 
 not difficult in the execution, it was glorious in its 
 consequences. As to his miscarriage in Bcetia and 
 at Hahartus, ill-fortune, perhaps, had some concern 
 in it, but it was principally owing to indiscretion ; 
 since he would not wait for the great reinforcement 
 which the king was bringing from Platsea, and which 
 was upon the point of joining him, but with an ill- 
 timed resentment and ambition, marched up to the 
 walls. Hence it was, that he was slain by some troops 
 of no consideration, who sallied out to the attack. He 
 fell not as Cleombrotus did at Leuctra, who was slain 
 as he was making head against an impetuous enemy ; 
 not like Cyrus, or Epaminondas, who received a mor- 
 tal wound as he was rallying his men and ensuring to 
 them the victory. These great men died the death of 
 generals and kings. But Lysander threw away his 
 life ingloriously like a common soldier or desperate 
 adventurer. By his death he showed how right the 
 ancient Spartans were in not choosing to fight against 
 stone walls, where the bravest man in the world may 
 be killed ; I will not say by an insignificant man, but 
 by a child or woman. Go Achilles is said to have 
 been slain by N Paris at the gates of Troy. On the 
 other hand, so many pitched battles were won by 
 Sylla, and so many myriads of enemies killed, that it 
 is not easy to number them. He took Rome itself 
 
PLUTARCH. 117 
 
 twice, and the Piraeus at Athens, not by famine, as 
 Lysander had done, but by assault, after he had de- 
 feated Archelaus in several great battles at land, and 
 forced him to take refuge in his fleet. 
 
 It is a material point, too, to consider what gen- 
 erals they had to oppose. I can look upon it as no 
 more than the play of children, to have beaten Anti- 
 ochus, w r ho was no better than Alcibiades's pilot, and 
 to have outwitted Philocles the Athenian demagogue, 
 
 A man whose tongue was sharpen 'd — not his sword. 
 
 Mithridates would not have compared them with his 
 groom, nor Marius with one of his lictors. But Sylla 
 had to contend with princes, consuls, generals, and 
 tribunes of the highest influence and abilities : and, 
 to name but a few of them, who among the Romans 
 was more formidable than Marius ; among the kings, 
 more powerful than Mithridates ; or among the peo- 
 ple of Italy, more warlike than Lamponius and 
 Telesinus ? yet Sylla banished the first, subdued the 
 second, and killed the other two. 
 
 What is of more consequence, in my opinion, than 
 any thing yet mentioned, is, that Lysander was sup- 
 ported in all his enterprises by his friends at home, 
 and owed all his success to their assistance ; whereas 
 Sylla, a banished maix, overpowered by a faction, at 
 a time w 7 hen his enemies were expelling his wife, 
 destroying his house, and putting his friends to death, 
 fought the battles of his country on the plains of 
 Bcetia against armies that could not be numbered, 
 and was victorious in her cause. This was not all ; 
 Mithridates ofFerbd to second him with all his power 
 and join him with all his forces against his enemies at 
 Rome, yet he relaxed not the least of his demands, 
 
118 PLUTARCH. 
 
 nor showed him the least countenance. He would 
 not so much as return his salutation, or give him his 
 hand, till he promised in person to relinquish Asia, 
 and to deliver up his ships, and to restore Bithynia 
 and Cappadocia to their respective kings. There was 
 nothing in the whole conduct of Sylla more glorious, 
 or that showed greater magnanimity. He preferred 
 the public good to his own : like a dog of generous 
 breed, he kept his hold till his adversary had given 
 out, and after that he turned to revenge his own 
 cause. 
 
 The different methods they observed with respect 
 to the Athenians contribute not a little to mark their 
 characters. Sylla, though they bore arms against 
 him for Mithridates, after he had taken their city, 
 indulged them with their liberty and the privilege of 
 their own laws : Lysander showed no sort of com- 
 passion for a people of late so glorious and powerful, 
 but abolished the popular government, and set over 
 them the most cruel and unjust of tyrants. 
 
 Perhaps, we shall not be wide of the truth, if we 
 conclude that in \the life of Sylla there are more great 
 actions, and in Lysander's fewer faults ; if we as- 
 sign to the Grecian the prize of temperance and 
 prudence, and to the Roman that of valour and ca- 
 pacity for war. 
 
 MARIUS AT MINTTTRN-SE AND AT CARTHAGE. 
 
 They were not now above two miles and a half 
 from the city of Minturnse, when they espied at some 
 considerable distance a troop of horse making towards 
 them, and at the same time happened to see two barks 
 sailing near the shore. They ran down, therefore, to 
 the sea, with all the speed and strength they had ; and 
 
PLUTARCH. 11$ 
 
 when they had reached it, plunged in and swam to- 
 wards the ships. Granius gained one of them, and 
 passed over to an opposite island, called iEnaria. As 
 for Marius, who was very heavy and unwieldy, he 
 was borne with much difficulty by two servants above 
 the water, and put into the other ship. The party 
 of horse were by this time come to the sea-side, from 
 whence they called to the ship's crew, either to put 
 ashore immediately, cr else to throw Marius over- 
 board, and then they might go where they pleased. 
 Marius begged of them with tears to save him ; and 
 the masters of the vessel, after consulting together a 
 few moments, in which they changed their opinions 
 several times, resolved to make answer, " That they 
 would not deliver up Marius. 5 ' Upon this the sol- 
 diers rode off in a great rage ; and the sailors, soon 
 departing from their resolution, made for land. They 
 cast anchor in the mouth of the river Liris, where it 
 overflows and forms a marsh, and advised Marius, 
 who was much harassed, to go and refresh himself on 
 shore, till they could get a better wind. This they 
 said would happen at a certain hour, when the wind 
 from the sea would fall, and that from the marshes 
 rise. Marius believing them, they helped him ashore ; 
 and he seated himself on the grass, little thinking of 
 what was going to befal him. For the crew imme- 
 diately went on board again, weighed anchor, and 
 sailed away : thinking it neither honourable to deliver 
 up Marius, nor safe to protect him. 
 
 Thus deserted by all the world, he sat a good while 
 on the shore, in silent stupefaction. At length, re- 
 covering himself with much difficulty, he rose and 
 walked in a disconsolate manner through those wild 
 and devious places, till by scrambling over deep bogs) 
 
120 PLUTARCH. 
 
 and ditches full of water and mud, he came to the 
 cottage of an old man who worked in the fens. He 
 threw himself at his feet, and begged him " To save 
 and shelter a man, who, if he escaped the present 
 danger, would reward him far beyond his hopes." 
 The cottager, whether he knew him before, or was 
 then moved with his venerable aspect, told him, 
 " His hut would be sufficient, if he wanted only to 
 repose himself ; but if he was wandering about to 
 elude the search of his enemies, he would hide him 
 in a place much safer and more retired." Marius 
 desiring him to do so, the poor man took him into 
 the fens, and bade him hide himself in a hollow place 
 by the river, where he laid upon him a quantity of 
 reeds and other light things, that would cover, but 
 not oppress him. 
 
 In a short time, however, he was disturbed with a 
 tumultuous noise from the cottage. For Geminius 
 had sent a number of men from Terracina in pursuit 
 of him ; and one party coming that way, loudly 
 threatened the old man for having entertained and 
 concealed an enemy to the Romans. Marius, upon 
 this, quitted the cave ; and having stripped himself, 
 plunged into the bog, amidst the thick water and 
 mud. This expedient rather discovered than screened 
 him. They hauled him out naked and covered with 
 dirt, and carried him to Minturna3, where they de- 
 livered him to the magistrates. For proclamation had 
 been made through all those towns, that a general 
 search should be made for Marius, and that he should 
 be put to death wherever he was found. The magis- 
 trates, however, thought proper to consider of it, and 
 sent him under a guard to the house of Fannia. This 
 woman had an inveterate aversion to Marius. When 
 
PLUTARCH. 121 
 
 she was divorced from her husband Tinnius, she de- 
 manded her whole fortune, which was considerable , 
 and Tinnius alleging adultery, the cause was brought 
 before Marius, who was then consul for the sixth time. 
 Upon the trial it appeared that Fannia was a Woman 
 of bad fame before her marriage ; and that Tinnius 
 was no stranger to her character when he married her. 
 Besides, he had lived with her a considerable time in 
 the state of matrimony. The consul, of course, re- 
 primanded them both. The husband was ordered to 
 restore his wife's fortune, and the wife, as a proper 
 mark of her disgrace, was sentenced to pay a fine of 
 four drachmas. 
 
 Fannia, however, forgetful of female resentment? 
 entertained and encouraged Marius to the utmost of 
 her power. He acknowledged her generosity, and 
 at the same time expressed the greatest vivacity and 
 confidence. The occasion of this w r as an auspicious 
 omen. When he was conducted to her house, as he 
 approached, and the gate was opened, an ass came 
 out to drink at a neighbouring fountain. The animal, 
 with a vivacity uncommon to his species, fixed its 
 eyes steadfastly on Marius, then brayed aloud, and, 
 as it passed him, skipped wantonly along. The con- 
 clusion which he drew from this omen was, that the 
 gods meant he should seek his safety by sea ; for 
 that it was not in consequence of any natural thirst 
 that the ass went to the fountain*. This circum- 
 stance he mentioned to Fannia, and having ordered 
 
 * All that was extraordinary in this circumstance 
 was, that the ass, like the sheep, is seldom seen to 
 drink, 
 
 6 
 
122 PLUTARCH. 
 
 the door of his chamber to be secured, he went to 
 rest. 
 
 However, the magistrates and council of Mintumae 
 concluded that Marius should immediately be put to 
 death. No citizen would undertake this office ; but 
 a dragoon, either a Gaul or a Cimbrian (for both are 
 mentioned in history), went up to him sword in hand, 
 with an intent to despatch him. The chamber in 
 which he lay was somewhat gloomy, and a light, they 
 tell you, glanced from the eyes of Marius, which 
 darted on the face of the assassin ; while at the same 
 time he heard a solemn voice saying, " Dost thou dare 
 to kill Marius ? ' ' Upon this the assassin threw down 
 his sword and fled, crying, " I cannot kill Marius." 
 The people of Minturnse were struck with astonish- 
 ment — pity and remorse ensued — should they put to 
 death the preserver of Italy ? was it not even a dis- 
 grace to them that they did not contribute to his re- 
 lief? "Let him go," said they, "let the exile go, 
 and await his destiny in some other region ! It is 
 time we should deprecate the anger of the gods, who 
 have refused the poor, the naked wanderer the com- 
 mon privileges of hospitality !" Under the influence 
 of this enthusiasm, they immediately conducted him 
 to the sea-coast. Yet in the midst of their officious 
 expedition they met with some delay. The Marician 
 grove, which they hold sacred, and suffer nothing 
 that enters it to be removed, lay immediately in their 
 way. Consequently they could not pass through it, 
 and to go round it would be tedious. At last an old 
 man of the company cried out, that no place, how- 
 ever religious, was inaccessible, if it could contribute 
 to the preservation of Marius. No sooner had he said 
 
 i 
 
PLUTAHCH. 123 
 
 this, than he took some of the baggage in his hand, 
 and marched through the place. The rest followed 
 with the same alacrity , and when Marius came to the 
 sea-coast, he found a vessel provided for him, by one 
 Beleeeus. Some time after he presented a picture re- 
 presenting this event to the temple of Marica. When 
 Marius set sail, the wind drove him to the island of 
 iEneria, where he found Granius and some other 
 friends, and with them he sailed for Africa. Being in 
 want of fresh water, they were obliged to put in at 
 Sicily, where the Roman quaestor kept such strict 
 watch, that Marius very narrowly' escaped, and no 
 fewer than sixteen of the watermen were killed. From 
 thence he immediately sailed for the island of Meninx, 
 where he first heard that his son had escaped with Ce- 
 thegus, and was gone to implore the succor of Hiemp- 
 sal, king of Numidia. This gave him some encour- 
 agement, and immediately he ventured for Carthage. 
 The Roman governor in Africa was Sextilius. 
 He had neither received favour nor injury from 
 Marius, but the exile hoped for something from his 
 pity. He was just landed, with a few of his men, 
 when an officer came and thus addressed him : " Ma- 
 rius, I come from the praetor Sextilius, to* tell you, 
 that he forbids you to set foot in Africa. If you obey 
 not, he will support the senate's decree, and treat you 
 as a public enemy." Marius, upon hearing this, was 
 struck dumb with grief and indignation. He uttered 
 not a word for some time, but stood regarding the 
 officer with a menacing aspect. At length the officer 
 asked him what answer he should carry to the gov- 
 ernor. " Go and tell him," said the unfortunate man 
 with a sigh, " that thou hast seen the exile Marius 
 sitting on the ruins of Carthage." Thus in the hap- 
 
124 PLUTARCH. 
 
 piest manner in the world, he proposed the fate of 
 that city and his own as warnings to the praetor. 
 
 THE REPENTANCE OF MINUCIUS. 
 
 After the battle, Fabius having collected the spoils 
 of such Carthaginians as were left dead upon the 
 field, returned to his post ; nor did he let fall one 
 haughty or angry word against his colleague. As for 
 Minucius, having called his men together, he thus 
 expressed himself : " Friends and fellow soldiers ! not 
 to err at all in the management of great affairs, is 
 above the wisdom of men : but it is the part of a pru- 
 dent and good man to learn, from his errors and mis- 
 carriages, to correct himself for the future. For my 
 part, 1 confess, that though fortune has frowned upon 
 me a little, I have much to thank her for. For what 
 I could not be brought to be sensible of in so long a 
 time, I have learned in the small compass of one day, 
 that I know not how to command, but have need to 
 be under the direction of another ; and from this mo- 
 ment I bid adieu to the ambition of getting the better 
 of a man whom it is an honour to be foiled by. In 
 all other respects, the dictator shall be your comman- 
 der ; but in the due expressions of gratitude to him, 
 I will be your leader still, by being the first to show 
 an example of obedience and submission." 
 
 He then ordered the ensigns to advance with the 
 eagles, and the troops to follow, himself marching at 
 their head to the camp of Fabius. Being admitted, 
 he went directly to his tent. The whole army waited 
 with impatience for the event. When Fabius came 
 out, Minucius fixed his standard before him, and with 
 a loud voice saluted him by the name of father ; at 
 the same time his soldiers called those of Fabius their 
 
PLtTTARCK, 12B 
 
 patrons : an appellation which freedmen give to those 
 that enfranchise them. These respects being paid* 
 and silence taking place, Minucius thus addressed 
 himself to the dictator : " You have this day, Fabi- 
 us, gained two victories — one over the enemy by your 
 valour, the other over your colleague by your pru- 
 dence and humanity. By the former you saved us y 
 by the latter you have instructed us ; and Hannibal's- 
 victory over us is not more disgraceful than yours is 
 honourable and salutary to us. I call you father, 
 not knowing a more honourable name, and am more 
 indebted to you than to my real father. To him I 
 owe my being, but to you the preservation of my life, 
 and the lives of all these brave men." After this, he 
 threw himself into the arms of Fab i us, and the sol- 
 diers of each army embraced one another with every 
 expression of tenderness, and with tears of joy. 
 
 WICIAS AND CRASSUS COMPARED. 
 
 One of the first things that occurs in this compa- 
 rison is, that Nicias gained his wealth in a less excep- 
 tionable manner than Crassus. The working of 
 mines, indeed, does not seem very suitable to a man. 
 of Nicias's character, where the persons employed are 
 commonly malefactors or barbarians, some of which 
 work in fetters, till the damps and unwholesome air 
 put an end to their being. But it is comparatively 
 an honourable pursuit, when put in parallel with get- 
 ting an estate by the confiscations of Sylla, or by 
 buying houses in the midst of fires. Yet Crassus 
 dealt as openly in these things as he did in agricul- 
 ture and usury. As to the other matters which he 
 was censured for, and which he denied, namely, his 
 making money of his vote in the senate, his extorting 
 
128 4»LtfTARdK* 
 
 it from the allies, his overreaching silly womeii by 
 flattery, and his undertaking the defence of ill men ; 
 nothing like these things was ever imputed by Slander 
 herself to Nicias. As to his wasting his money upon 
 those who made a trade of impeachments, to prevent 
 their doing him any harm, it was a circumstance 
 which exposed him to ridicule ; and unworthy, per- 
 haps, of the characters of Pericles and Aristides, but 
 necessary for him, who had a timidity in his nature. 
 It was a thing which Lycurgus the orator afterwards 
 made a merit of to the people : when censured for 
 having bought off one of these trading informers, " I 
 rejoice," said he " that after being so long employed 
 in the administration, I am discovered to have given 
 money, and not taken it." 
 
 As to their expenses, Nicias appears to have been 
 more public spirited in his. His offerings to the 
 gods, and the games and tragedies with which he 
 entertained the people, were so many proofs of noble 
 and generous sentiments. It is true, all that Nicias 
 laid out in this manner,- and, indeed, his whole 
 estate, amounted only to a small part of what Crassus 
 expended at once, in entertaining so many myriads of 
 men, and supplying them with bread afterwards. Eut 
 it would be very strange to me, if there should be any 
 one who does not perceive that this vice is nothing 
 but an inequality and inconsistency of character, par- 
 ticularly when he sees men laying out that money 
 in an honourable manner which they have got dis- 
 honourably. So much with regard to their riches. 
 
 If we consider their behaviour in the administra- 
 tion, we shall not find in Nicias any instance of cun- 
 ning, injustice, violence, or effrontery. On the con- 
 trary, he suffered Alcibiades to impose upon him, and 
 
FLtfTAKC&o- I2f 
 
 lie was modest, or rather timid in his applications to» 
 the people. Whereas Crassus,, in turning from his 
 friends to his enemies, and back again, if his interest 
 required it, is justly accused of an illiberal duplicity. 
 Nor could he deny that he used violence to attain the* 
 consulship, when he hired ruffians to lay their hands 
 npon Cato and Domitius. In the assembly that was 
 held for the allotment of the provinces, many were 
 wounded, and four citizens killed. Nay, Crassus him- 
 self struck a senator, named Lucius Annalras, who 
 opposed his measures, upon the face with his fist 
 (a circumstance which escaped us in his Life), and 
 drove him out of the forum covered with blood. 
 
 But if Crasssus was too violent and tyrannical in 
 his proceedings, Nicias was as much too timid. His 
 poltroonery and mean submission to the most aban- 
 doned persons in the state deserve the greatest re- 
 proach. Besides, Crassus showed some magnanimity 
 and dignity of sentiment, in contending, not with such 
 wretches as Cleon and Hyperbolus, but with the glory 
 of Ceesar, and the three triumphs of Pompey. In fact? 
 he maintained the dispute well with them for power, 
 and in the high honour of the censorship, he was even 
 beyond Pompey. For he who wants to stand at the 
 helm should not consider what may expose him to en- 
 vy, but what is great and glorious, and may by its lus- 
 tre force envy to sneak behind. But if security and re-- 
 pose are to be consulted above all things ; if you are 
 afraid of Alcibiades upon the rostrum, of the Lacede- 
 monians at Fylos, and of Perdiccas in Thrace, then 
 surely, Nicias, Athens is wide enough to afford you a 
 corner to retire to, where yon may weave yourself the 
 soft crown of tranquillity, as some of the philosophers 
 express it. The love Nicias had for peace was in- 
 deed a divine attachment, and his endeavours, during 
 
L28 S>LUTA&CIi> 
 
 liis whole administration, to put an end to the war, 
 were worthy of the Grecian humanity. This alone 
 places jiim in so honourable a light, that Crassus 
 could not have been compared with him, though he 
 had made the Caspian sea or the Indian ocean the 
 boundary of the Roman empire. 
 
 Nevertheless, in a commonwealth which retains 
 any sentiments of virtue, he who has the lead should 
 not give place for a moment to persons of no princi- 
 ple ; he should intrust no charge with those who want 
 capacity, nor place any confidence in those who want 
 honour. And Nicias certainly did this in raising 
 Cleori to the command of the army ; a man who had 
 nothing to recommend him but his impudence and 
 his bawling in the rostrum. On the other hand, I 
 do not commend Crassus for advancing to action, in 
 the war with Spartacus, with more expedition than 
 prudence ; though his ambition had this excuse, that 
 he was afraid Pompey would come and snatch his 
 laurels from him, as Mummius had done from Me- 
 tellus at Corinth. But the conduct of Nicias was 
 very absurd and mean spirited. He would not give 
 up to his enemy the honour and trust of commander- 
 in-chief while he could execute that charge with 
 ease, and had good hopes of success ; but as soon as 
 he saw it attended with great danger, he was willing 
 to secure himself, though he exposed the public by 
 it. It was not thus Themistocles behaved in the 
 Persian war. To prevent the advancement of a man 
 to the command who had neither capacity nor prin- 
 ciple, which he knew must have been the ruin of his 
 country, he prevailed with him for a sum of money 
 to give up his pretensions. And Cato stood for the 
 tribuneship when he saw it would involve him in the 
 greatest trouble and danger. On the contrary, Nicias 
 
PLUTARCH. 12$ 
 
 was willing enough to be general, when he had only 
 to go against Minoa, Cythera, or the poor Melians ; 
 but if there was occasion to fight with the Lacede- 
 monians, he put off his armour, and intrusted the 
 ships, the men, the warlike stores, in short, the 
 entire direction of a war which required the most 
 consummate prudence and experience, to the igno- 
 rance and rashness of Cleon ; in which he was not 
 only unjust to himself and his own honour, but to 
 the welfare and safety of his country. This made the 
 Athenians send him afterwards, contrary to his in- 
 clination, against Syracuse. They thought it was 
 not a conviction of the improbability of success, but 
 a regard to his own ease and a want of spirit, which 
 made him willing to deprive them of the conquest of 
 Sicily. 
 
 There is, however, this great proof of his integrity y 
 that though he was perpetually against war, and 
 always declined the command, yet they failed not to 
 appoint him to it as the ablest and best general they 
 had. But Crassus, though he was for ever aiming at 
 such a charge, never gained one, except in the war 
 with the gladiators ; and that only because Pompey, 
 Metellus, and both the Lucullus's were absent. This 
 jS the more remarkable, because Crassus was arrived 
 at a high degree of authority and power. But, it 
 seems, his best friends thought him (as the comic poet 
 expresses it) 
 
 In all trades skill 'd except the trade of war. 
 
 However, this knowledge of his talents availed the 
 Romans but little : his ambition never let them rest 
 till they assigned him a province. The Athenians 
 employed Nicias against his inclination ; and it was 
 6* 
 
130 PLUTARCH. 
 
 against the inclination of the Romans that Crassus 
 led them out. , Crassus involved his country in mis- 
 fortunes ; but the misfortunes of Nicias were owing 
 to his country. 
 
 Nevertheless, in this respect, it is easier to com- 
 mend Nicias than to blame Crassus. The capacity 
 and skill of the former as a general kept him from 
 being drawn away with the vain hopes of his country- 
 men, and he declared, from the first, that Sicily could 
 not be conquered : the latter called out the Romans 
 to the Parthian war as an easy undertaking. In this 
 he found himself sadly deceived : yet his aim was 
 great. While Ceesar was subduing the west, the 
 Gauls, the Germans; an$ Britain, he attempted to 
 penetrate to the Indian ocean on the east, and to con- 
 quer all Asia ; things which Pompey and Lucullus 
 would have effected if they had been able. But 
 though they were both engaged in the same designs, 
 and made the same attempts with Crassus, their 
 characters stood unimpeached both as to moderation 
 and probity. If Crassus was opposed by one of the 
 tribunes in his Parthian expedition, Pompey was 
 opposed by the senate when he got Asia for his pro- 
 vince. And when Csesar had routed three hundred 
 thousand Germans, Cato voted that he should be 
 given up to that injured people, to atone for the 
 violation of the peace. But the Roman people, pay- 
 ing no regard to Cato, ordered a thanksgiving to the 
 gods, for fifteen days, and thought themselves happy 
 in the advantage gained. In what raptures then 
 wpuldthey have been, and for how many days would 
 they have offered sacrifices, if Crassus could have sent 
 them an account from Babylon, that he was victo- 
 ripus ; and if he had proceeded from thence through 
 
PJLUTARCH. iZt 
 
 Media, Persia, Hyrcania, Susa, and Bactria, and 
 reduced them to the form of Roman provinces. For 3 
 according to Euripides, if justice must be violated, 
 and men cannot sit down quiet and contented with 
 their present possessions, it should not be for taking 
 the small town of Scandia, or razing such a castle as 
 Mende ; nor yet for going in chase of the fugitive 
 Egnitae, who, like birds, have retired to another 
 country : the price of injustice should be high ; so 
 sacred a thing as right should not be invaded for a 
 trifling consideration, for that would be treating it 
 with contempt indeed. In fact, they who commend 
 Alexander's expedition, and decry that of Crassus, 
 judge of actions only by the event. 
 
 As to their military performances, several of Ni- 
 cias's are very considerable. He gained many battles, 
 and was very near taking Syracuse. Nor were all 
 his miscarriages so many errors ; but they were to be 
 imputed partly to his ill health, and partly to the envy 
 of his countrymen at home. On the other hand, Cras- 
 sus committed so many errors, that Fortune had no 
 opportunity to show him any favour ; wherefore we 
 need not so much wonder that the Parthian power 
 got the better of his incapacity, as that his incapacity 
 prevailed over the good fortune of Rome. 
 
 As one of them paid the greatest attention to divi- 
 nation, and the other entirely disregarded it, and yet 
 both perished alike, it is hard to say whether the 
 observation of omens is a salutary thing or not. 
 Nevertheless, to err on the side of religion, out of 
 regard to ancient and received opinions, is a more 
 pardonable thing than to err through obstinacy and 
 presumption. 
 
 Orassus, however, was not so reproachable in his 
 
132 PLUTARCH. 
 
 exit ; he did not surrender himself or submit to be 
 bound, nor was he deluded with vain hopes ; but in 
 yielding to the instances of his friends he met his fate, 
 and fell a victim to the perfidy and injustice of the 
 barbarians. Whereas Nicias, from a mean and un- 
 manly fondness for life, put himself in the enemy's 
 hands, by which means he came to a baser and more 
 dishonourable end. 
 
 NUMA AND LYCURGUS COMPARED. 
 
 Having gone through the lives of Numa and Ly- 
 curgus, we must now endeavour (though it is no easy 
 matter) to contrast their actions. The resemblances 
 between them, however, are obvious enough ; their 
 wisdom, for instance, their piety, their talents for 
 government, the instruction of their people, and their 
 deriving their laws from a divine source. But the 
 chief of their peculiar distinctions was Numa's ac- 
 cepting a crown, and Lycurgus's relinquishing one. 
 The former received a kingdom without seeking it ; 
 the latter resigned one when he had it in possession. 
 Numa was advanced to sovereign power when a 
 private person and a stranger ; Lycurgus reduced 
 himself from a king to a private person. It was an 
 honour to the one to attain to royal dignity by his 
 justice ; and it was an honour to the other to prefer 
 justice to that dignity. Virtue rendered the one so 
 respectable as to deserve a throne, and the other so 
 great as to be above it. 
 
 The second observation is, that both managed their 
 respective governments, as musicians do the lyre, 
 each in a different manner. Lycurgus wound up the 
 strings of Sparta, which he found relaxed with lux- 
 ury, to a stronger tone : Numa softened the high and 
 
vLvtArcu. 133 
 
 hiimh. tone of Rome. The former had the more 
 difficult task. For it was not their swords and breast- 
 plates, which he persuaded his citizens to lay aside* 
 but their gold and silver, their sumptuous beds and 
 tables ; what he taught them was not to devote their 
 time to feasts and sacrifices, after quitting the rugged 
 paths of war^ but to leave entertainments and the 
 pleasures of Wine, for the laborious eKercises of arms 
 and the wrestling ring. Numa effected his purposes 
 in a friendly way by the regard and veneration the 
 people had for his person ; Lycurgus had to struggle 
 with conflicts and dangers, before he could establish 
 his laws. The genius of Numa was more mild and 
 gentle, softening and attempering the fiery dispositions 
 of his people to justice and peace. If we be obliged 
 to admit the sanguinary and unjust treatment of the 
 Helotes, as a part of the politics of Lycurgus, we 
 must allow Numa to have been far the more humane 
 and equitable lawgiver, who permitted absolute Slaves 
 to taste of the honour of freemen, and in the Satur- 
 nalia to be entertained along with their masters» 
 For this also they tell us Was one of Numa's institu- 
 tions, that persons in a state of servitude should be 
 admitted, at least Once a year, to the liberal enjoy- 
 ment of those fruits which they had helped to raise. 
 Some however pretend to find in this custom the 
 vestiges of the equality which subsisted in the times 
 of Saturn, when there was neither servant nor mas- 
 ter, but all were upon the same footing, and, as it 
 were, of one family. 
 
 Both appeared to have been equally studious to 
 lead their people to temperance and sobriety. As to 
 the other virtues, the one was more attached to for- 
 titude,, and the other to justice. Though possibly the N 
 
134 PLUTARCH. 
 
 different nature and quality of their respective govern- 
 ments required a different process. For it was not 
 through want of courage, but to guard against in- 
 justice, that Numa restrained his subjects from war : 
 nor did Lycurgus endeavour to infuse a martial spirit 
 into his people, with a view to encourage them to in- 
 jure others, but to guard them against being injured 
 by invasions. As each had the luxuriances of his 
 citizens to prune, and their deficiencies to fill up, they 
 must necessarily make very considerable alterations. 
 Numa's distribution of the people was indulgent 
 and agreeable to the commonalty, as with him a va- 
 rious and mixed mass of goldsmiths, musicians, shoe- 
 makers, and other trades, composed the body of the 
 city. But Lycurgus inclined to the nobility in mo- 
 delling his state, and he proceeded in a severe and 
 unpopular manner ; puttiug all mechanic arts into the 
 hands of slaves and strangers, while the citizens were 
 only taught how to manage the spear and shield. 
 They were only artists in war, and servants of Mars, 
 neither knowing nor desiring to know any thing but 
 how to obey, command, and conquer their enemies. 
 That the free men might be entirely and once for all 
 free, he would not suffer them to give any attention to 
 their circumstances, but that whole business was to be 
 left to the slaves and Helotes, in the same manner as 
 the dressing of their meat. Numa made no such dis- 
 tinction as this : he only put a stop to the gain of rapine. 
 Not solicitous to prevent an inequality of substance, 
 he forbade no other means of increasing the fortunes 
 of his subjects, nor their rising to the greatest opu- 
 lence ; neither did he guard against poverty, which at 
 the same time made its way into, and spread in, the 
 city. While there was no great disparity in the pos- 
 
PLUTARCH. 135 
 
 sessions of his citizens, but all were moderately pro- 
 vided, he should at first have combated the desire of 
 gain ; and, like Lycurgus, have watched against its 
 inconveniences ; for those were by no means incon- 
 siderable, but such as gave birth to the many and 
 great troubles that happened in the Roman state. 
 
 As to an equal division of lands, neither was Ly- 
 curgus to blame for making it, nor Numa for not 
 making it. The equality which it caused afforded 
 the former a firm foundation for his government ; and 
 the latter finding a division already made, and pro- 
 bably as yet subsisting entire, had no occasion to 
 make a new one. 
 
 With respect to the community of wives and chil- 
 dren, each took a politic method to banish jealousy. 
 A Roman husband, when he had a sufficient number 
 of children, and was applied to by one that had none, 
 might give up his wife to him, and was at liberty both 
 to divorce her, and to take her again. But the Lace- 
 daemonian, while his wife remained in his house, and 
 the marriage subsisted in its original force, allowed 
 his friend, who desired to have children by her, the 
 use of his bed : and (as we have already observed) 
 many husbands invited to their houses such men as 
 were likely to give them healthy and well made chil- 
 dren. The difference between the two customs is this, 
 that the Lacedaemonians appeared very easy and un- 
 concerned about an affair that in other places causes 
 so much disturbance, and consumes men's hearts 
 with jealousy and sorrow ; whilst among the Ro- 
 mans there was a modesty, which veiled the matter 
 with a new contract, and seemed to declare that a 
 community in wedlock is intolerable. 
 
 Yet farther, Numa's strictness as to virgins tended 
 
156 PLUTARCH. 
 
 to form them to that modesty which is the ornament 
 of their sex ; but the great liberty which Lycurgus 
 gave them brought upon them the censure of the 
 poets, particularly Ibicus : for they call them Phce- 
 nomerides, and Andromancis. Euripides describes 
 them in this manner : 
 
 These quit their homes, ambitious to display, 
 Amidst the youths, their vigour in the race, 
 Or feats of wrestling, whilst their airy robe 
 Flies back, and leaves their limbs uncover'd. 
 
 The skirts of the habit which the virgins wore were 
 not sewed to the bottom, but opened at the sides as 
 they walked, and discovered the thigh : as Sophocles 
 very plainly writes : 
 
 Still in the light dress struts the vain Hermione, 
 Whose opening folds display the naked thigh. 
 
 Consequently their behaviour is said to have been too 
 bold and too masculine, in particular to their hus- 
 bands. For they considered themselves as absolute 
 mistresses in their houses ; nay, they wanted a share 
 in affairs of state, and delivered their sentiments with 
 great freedom concerning the most weighty matters. 
 iiutNuma, though he preserved entire to the matrons 
 ail the honour and respect that were paid them by 
 their husbands in the time of Romulus, when they en- 
 deavoured by kindness to compensate for the rape, yet 
 he obliged them to behave with great reserve, and to 
 lay aside all impertinent curiosity. He taught them to 
 be sober, and accustomed them to silence, entirely to 
 abstain from wine, and not to speak even of the most 
 necessary affairs except in the presence of their hus- 
 bands. When a woman once appeared in the forum 
 
PLUTARCH, 137 
 
 to plead her own cause, it is reported that the senate 
 ordered the oracle to be consulted, what thL strange 
 event portended to the city. Nay, what is recorded 
 of a few infamous women is a proof of the obedience 
 and meekness of the Roman matrons in general. For 
 as our historians give us accounts of those who first 
 carried war into the bowels of their country, or against 
 their brothers, or were first guilty of parricide ; so 
 the Romans relate, that Spurius Carvilius was the 
 first among them that divorced his wife, when no such 
 thing had happened before for two hundred and thirty 
 years from the building of Rome* ; and that Thalaea, 
 the wife of Pinarius, was the first that quarrelled, 
 having a dispute with her mother-in-law, Gegania, 
 in the reign of Tarquin the proud. So well framed 
 for the preserving of decency and a propriety of beha- 
 viour were this lawgiver's regulations with respect to 
 marriage. 
 
 Agreeable to the education of virgins in Sparta, 
 were, the directions of Lycurgus as to the time of their 
 being married. For he ordered them to be married 
 when both their age and wishes led them to it ; that 
 the company of a husband, which nature now requir- 
 ed, might be the foundation of kindness and love, and 
 not of fear and hatred, which would be the conse- 
 quence when nature was forced ; and that their bodies 
 might have strength to bear the troubles of breeding 
 and the pangs of child- birth ; the propagation of chil- 
 dren being looked upon as the only end of marriage. 
 But the K'omans married their daughters at the age 
 of twelve years, or under ; that both their bodies and 
 
 * It was in the 520th year of Rome that this hap- 
 pened. 
 
138 iPLV^Aiicih 
 
 manners might come pure and Untainted into the 
 management of their husbands. It appears then that 
 the former institution more naturally tended to the 
 procreation of children, and the latter to the forming 
 of the manners for the matrimonial union. 
 
 However, in the education of the boys, in regulat- 
 ing their classes, and laying down the whole method 
 of their exercises, their diversions, and their eating at 
 a common table, Lycurgus Stands distinguished, and 
 leaves Numa only upon a level with ordinary law- 
 givers. For Numa left it to the option or convenience 
 of parents, to bring up their sons to agriculture, to 
 ship-building, to the business of a brazier, or the art 
 of a musician. As if it were not necessary for one 
 design to run through the education of them all, and 
 for each individual to have the same bias given him ; 
 but, as if they were all like passengers in a ship, who 
 coming each from a different employment, and with a 
 different intent, stand upon their common defence in 
 time of danger, merely out of fear for themselves or 
 their property, and on other occasions are attentive 
 only to their private ends. In such a case common 
 legislators would have been excusable, who might 
 have failed through ignorance or want of power ; but 
 should not so wise a man as Numa, who took upon 
 him the government of a state so lately formed, and 
 not likely to make the least opposition to any thing 
 he proposed, have considered it as his first care to 
 give the children such a bent of education, and the 
 youth such a mode of exercise, as would prevent any 
 great difference or confusion in their manners, that so 
 they might be formed from their infancy, and per- 
 suaded to walk together in the same paths of virtue ? 
 Lycurgus found the utility of this in several respects, 
 
PLUTARCH» 139 
 
 and particularly in securing the continuance of his 
 laws. For the oath the Spartans had taken would 
 have availed but little, if the youth had not been 
 already tinctured with his discipline, and trained to a 
 zeal for his establishment. Nay, so strong and deep 
 was the tincture, that the principal laws which he 
 enacted continued in force for more than five hundred 
 years. But the primary view of Numa's government, 
 which was to settle the Romans in lasting peace and 
 tranquillity, immediately vanished with him : and, 
 after his death, the temple of Janus, which he had 
 kept shut (as if he had really held war in prison and 
 subjection) was set wide open, and Italy was filled 
 with blood. The beautiful pile of justice which he 
 had reared presently fell to the ground, being without 
 the cement of education. 
 
 You will say then, was not Rome bettered by her 
 wars ? A question this which w T ants a long answer, to 
 satisfy such as place the happiness of a state in riches, 
 luxury, and an extent of dominion, rather than in 
 security, equity, temperance, and content. It may 
 seem, however, to afford an argument in favour of Ly- 
 curgus, that the Romans, upon quitting the discipline 
 of Numa, soon arrived at a much higher degree of 
 power ; whereas the Lacedaemonians, as soon as they 
 departed from the institutions of Lycurgus, from being 
 the most respectable people of Greece, became the 
 meanest, and were in danger of being absolutely de- 
 stroyed. On the other hand, it must be acknowledged 
 something truly great and divine in Numa, to be 
 invited from another country to the throne ; to make 
 so many alterations by means of persuasion only ; to 
 reign undisturbed over a city not yet united in itself, 
 without the use of an armed force (which Lycurgus 
 
140 PLUTARCH. 
 
 was obliged to have recourse to, when he availed 
 himself of the aid of the nobility against the com- 
 mons), and by his wisdom and justice alone to con- 
 ciliate and combine all his subjects in peace. 
 
 THE DEATH OF OTHO. 
 
 An uncertain rumour, as it commonly happens^ 
 was first brought to Otho, and afterwards some of the 
 wounded came and assured him that the battle was 
 lost. On this occasion it was nothing extraordinary 
 that his friends strove to encourage him and keep him 
 from desponding ; but the attachment of the soldiers 
 to him exceeds all belief. None of them left him, or 
 went over to the enemy, or consulted his own safety* 
 even wh«n their chief despaired of his. On the con- 
 trary, they crowded his gates ; they called him em- 
 peror ; they left no form of application untried \ the}r 
 kissed his hands, they fell at his feet, and with groans 
 and tears entreated him not to forsake them, nor give 
 them up to their enemies, but to employ their hearts 
 and hands to the last moment of their lives. They 
 all joined in this request ; and one of the private 
 men, drawing his sword, thus addressed himself to 
 Otho : " Know, Caesar, what your soldiers are ready 
 to do for you," and immediately plunged the steel 
 into his heart. 
 
 Otho was not moved at this affecting scene \ but, 
 with a cheerful and steady countenance, looking 
 round upon the company, spoke as follows : " This 
 day, my fellow-soldiers, I consider as a more happy 
 one than that on which you made me emperor, when, 
 I see you thus disposed, and am so great in your 
 opinion. But deprive me not of a still greater hap- 
 pinessj that of laying down my life with honour for 
 
PLUTARCH. 141 
 
 so many generous Romans. If I am worthy of the 
 Roman empire, I ought to shed my blood for my 
 country. I know the victory my adversaries have 
 gained is by no means decisive. I have intelligence 
 that my army from Mysia is at the distance of but a 
 few days' march ; Asia, Syria, and Egypt, are pour- 
 ing their legions upon the Adriatic ; the forces in Ju- 
 daea declare for us ; the senate is with us ; and the very 
 wives and children of our enemies are so many pledges 
 in our hands. But we are not fighting for Italy with 
 Hannibal, or Pyrrhus, or the Cimbrians ; our dispute 
 is with the Romans ; and whatever party prevails, 
 whether we conquer or are conquered, our country 
 must suffer. Under the victor's joy she bleeds. Be- 
 lieve, then, my friends, that I can die with greater 
 glory than reign ; for I know no benefit that Rome 
 can reap from my victory equal to what I shall confer 
 upon her by sacrificing myself for peace and unani- 
 mity, and to prevent Italy from beholding such ano- 
 ther day as this !" 
 
 After he had made this speech, and showed him- 
 self immovable to those who attempted to alter his 
 resolution, he desired his friends and such senators as 
 were present to leave him, and provide for their own 
 safety. To those that were absent he sent the same 
 commands, and signified his pleasure to the cities by 
 letters, that they should receive them honourably, 
 and supply them with good convOys. 
 
 He then called his nephew Cocceius, who was yet 
 very young, and bade him compose himself, and not 
 fear Vitellius. " I have taken the same care," said 
 he, " of his mother, his wife, and children, as if they 
 had been my own. And for the same reason, I mean 
 for your sake, I deferred the adoption which I in- 
 
142 PLUTARCH. 
 
 tended you ; for I thought proper to wait the issue of 
 this war, that you might reign with me if I conquered, 
 and not fall with me if I was overcome, The last 
 thing, my son, I have to recommend to you is, nei- 
 ther entirely to forget, nor yet to remember too well, 
 that you had an emperor for your uncle*" 
 
 A moment after he heard a great noise and tumult 
 at his gate. The soldiers seeing the senators retiring, 
 threatened to kill them if they moved a step farther, 
 or abandoned the emperor. Otho, in great concern 
 for them, showed himself again at the door, but no 
 longer with a mild and supplicating air ; on the con- 
 trary, he cast such a stern and angry look upon the 
 most turbulent part of them, that they withdrew in 
 great fear and confusion. 
 
 In the evening he was thirsty, and drank a little 
 water. Then he had two swords brought him, and 
 having examined the points of both a long time, he 
 sent away the one, and put the other under his arm. 
 After this he called his servants, and with many ex- 
 pressions of kindness gave them money. Not that he 
 chose to be lavish of what would soon be another's, 
 for he gave to some more, and to some less, propor- 
 tioning his bounty to their merit, and paying a strict 
 regard to propriety. 
 
 When he had dismissed them, he dedicated the 
 remainder of the night to repose, and slept so sound, 
 that his chamberlains heard him at the door." Early 
 in the morning he called his freedman, who assisted 
 him in the care of the senators, and ordered him to 
 make the proper inquiries about them. The answer 
 he brought was, that they were gone, and had been 
 provided with every thing they desired. Upon which 
 he said, " Go you, then, and show yourself to the 
 
PLUTARCH. 143 
 
 soldiers, that they may not imagine you have assisted 
 me in despatching myself, and put you to some cruel 
 death for it." 
 
 As soon as the freedman was gone out, he fixed 
 the hilt of his sword upon the ground, and holding 
 it with both hands, fell upon it with so much force, 
 that he expired with one groan. The servants who 
 waited without heard the groan, and burst into a loud 
 lamentation, which was echoed through the camp 
 and tr^e city. The soldiers ran to the gates with the 
 most pitiable wailings and most unfeigned grief, re- 
 proaching themselves for not guarding their enf^eror, 
 and preventing his dying for them. Not one of them 
 would leave him to provide for himself, though the 
 enemy was approaching. They attired the body in 
 a magnificent manner, and prepared a funeral pile ; 
 after which they attended the procession in their ar- 
 mour, and happy was the man that could come to 
 support his bier. Some kneeled and kissed his 
 wound, some grasped his hand, and others pros- 
 trated themselves on the ground, and adored him at 
 a distance. Nay, there were some who threw their 
 torches upon the pile, and then slew themselves. 
 Not that they had received any extraordinary favours 
 from the deceased, or were afraid of suffering under 
 the hands of the conqueror ; but it seems that no 
 king or tyrant was ever so passionately fond of gov- 
 erning as they were of being governed by Otho. 
 Nor did their affection cease with his death ; it sur- 
 vived the grave, and terminated in the hatred and 
 destruction of Vitellius. 
 
144 PliUTARCH, 
 
 PELOPIDAS AND MARCELLUS COMPARED; 
 
 These are the particulars which we thought worth 
 reciting from history concerning Marcellus and Pelo- 
 pidas ; between whom there was a perfect resem- 
 blance in the gifts of nature, and in their lives and 
 manners. For they were both men of heroic strength, 
 capable erf enduring the greatest fatigue, and in cour- 
 age and magnanimity they were equal. The sole 
 difference is, that Marcellusy in most of the cities 
 which he took by assault, committed great slaughter ; 
 whereas Epaminondas and Pelopidas never spilt the 
 blood of any man they had conquered, nor enslaved 
 any city they had taken. And it is affirmed, that if 
 they had been present, the Thebans would not have 
 deprived the Orchomenians of their liberty. 
 
 As to their achievements, among those of Mar-, 
 cellus there was none greater or more illustrious than 
 his beating such an army of Gauls, both horse and 
 foot, with a handful of horse only, g? which you will 
 scarce meet with another instance, x and his slaying 
 their prince with his own hand. Pelopidas hoped to 
 have done something of the like nature, but miscar- 
 ried, and lost his life in the attempt. However, the 
 great and glorious battles of Leuctra and Tegyra* 
 may be compared with these exploits of Marcellus. 
 And, on the other hand, there is nothing of Mar- 
 cellus's effected by stratagem and surprise, which 
 can be set against the happy management of Pelo- 
 pidas, at his return from exile, in taking off the The- 
 ban tyrants. Indeed, of all the enterprises of the 
 secret hand of art, that was the masterpiece. 
 
 If it be said that Hannibal was a formidable enemy 
 to the Romans, the Lacedaemonians were certainly 
 
.PLUTARCH» 145 
 
 ihe same to the Thebans. And yet it ia agreed on all 
 hands, that they were thoroughly beaten by Pelopi- 
 das, at Leuctra and Tegyree ; whereas, according to 
 Polybius, Hannibal was never once defeated by Mar- 
 cellus, but continued invincible till he had to do with 
 Scipio. However, we rather believe with Livy, 
 Caesar, and Cornelius Nepos, among the Latin histo- 
 rians, and with king Juba among the Greek, that 
 Marcellus did sometimes beat Hannibal, and even put 
 his troops to flight, though he gained no advantage of 
 him sufficient to turn the balance considerably on his 
 side : so that one might even think, that the Cartha- 
 ginian then acted with the art of a wrestler, who 
 sometimes suffers himself to be thrown. But what has 
 been very justly admired in Marcellus is, that, after 
 . such great armies had been routed, so many generals 
 slain, and the whole empire almost totally subverted j, 
 he found means to inspire his troops with courage 
 enough to make head against the enemy. He Was the 
 only man that from a state of terror and dismay, in 
 which they had long remained, raised the army to an 
 eagerness for battle, and infused into them such a spi- 
 rit, that, far from tamely giving up the victory, they 
 disputed it with the greatest obstinacy. For those 
 very men, who had been accustomed by a run of ill 
 success to think themselves happy if they could escape 
 Hannibal by flight, were taught by Marcellus to be 
 ashamed of coming off with disadvantage, to blush 
 at the very thought of giving way, and to be sensibly 
 affected if they gained not the victory. 
 
 As Pelopidas never lost a battle in which he com- 
 manded in person, and Marcellus won more than any 
 Roman of his time, he who performed so many ex- 
 ploits, and was so hard to conquer, may, perhaps, be 
 7 
 
146 PLUTARCH. , 
 
 put on a level with the other, who was never beaterj. 
 On the other hand, it may be observed; that Mar- 
 cellus took Syracuse, whereas Pelopidas failed in his 
 attempt upon Sparta ; yet I think even to approach 
 Sparta, and to be the first that ever passed the Eurotas 
 in a hostile manner, was a greater achievement than 
 the conquest of Sicily ; unless it may be said, that the 
 honour of this exploit, as well as that of Leucfra, 
 belongs rather to Epaminondas than to Pelopidas, 
 whereas the glory Marcellus gained was entirely his 
 own. For he alone took Syracuse ; he defeated the 
 Gauls without his colleague ; he made head against 
 Hannibal, not only without the assistance, but 
 against the remonstrances, of the other generals ; 
 and, changing the face of war, he first taught the Ro- 
 mans to meet the enemy with a good countenance. 
 
 As for their deaths, I praise neither the one nor the 
 other ; but it is with concern and indignation that I 
 think of the strange circumstances that attended them. 
 At the same time I admire Hannibal, who fought 
 such a number of battles as it would be a labour to 
 reckon, without ever receiving a wound : and I greatly 
 approve the behaviour of Chrysantes, in the Cyro- 
 fcBdia, who having his sword lifted up and ready to 
 strike, upon hearing the trumpets sound a retreat, 
 calmly and modestly retired without giving the stroke. 
 Pelopidas, however, was somewhat excusable, ber 
 cause he was not only warmed with the heat of 
 battle, but incited by a generous desire of revenged 
 And, as Euripides says, 
 
 The first of chiefs is he who laurels gains, 
 And buys them not with life : the next is he 
 Who dies, but dies in Virtue's arms 
 
PLUTARCH. 147 
 
 In such a man, dying is a free and voluntary act, 
 not a passive submission to fate. But beside his re- 
 sentment, the end Pelopidas proposed to himself in 
 conquering, which was the death of a tyrant, with 
 reason animated him to uncommon efforts ; for it was 
 not easy to find another cause so great and glorious 
 wherein to exert himself. But Mareellus, without 
 any urgent occasion, without the enthusiasm which 
 often pushes men beyond the bounds of reason in time 
 of danger, unadvisedly exposed himself, and died not 
 like a general, but like a spy ; risking his five con- 
 sulates, his three triumphs, his trophies and spoils of 
 kings against a company of Spaniards and Numidians, 
 who had bartered with the Carthaginians for their 
 lives and services. An accident so strange, that those 
 very adventurers could not forbear grudging them- 
 selves such success, when they found that a man the 
 most distinguished of all the Romans for valour, as 
 well as power and fame, had fallen by their hands, 
 amidst a scouting party of Fregellanians. 
 
 Let not this, however, be deemed an accusation 
 against these great men, but rather a complaint to 
 chem of injury done themselves, by sacrificing . all 
 their other virtues to their intrepidity, and a free 
 expostulation with them for being so prodigal of 
 their blood as to shed it for their own sakes, when 
 it ought to have fallen only for their country, their 
 friends, and their allies. 
 
 Pelopidas was buried by his friends, in whose 
 cause he was slain, and Mareellus by those enemies 
 that slew him. The first was a happy and desirable 
 thing, but the other was greater and more extraor- 
 dinary ; for gratitude jn a friend for benefits received 
 
148 PLUTARCH. 
 
 is not equal to an enemy's admiring the virtue by 
 which he suffers. In the first case there is more re- 
 gard to interest than to merit ; in the latter, real 
 worth is the sole object of the honour paid. 
 
 PERICLES AND FAEIUS MAXIMUS COMPARED. 
 
 Such were the lives of these two persons, so illus- 
 trious and worthy of imitation both in their civil 
 and military capacity. We shall first compare their 
 talents for war. And here it strikes us at once, that 
 Pericles came into power at a time when the Athe- 
 nians were at the height of prosperity, great in them- 
 selves, and respectable to their neighbours : so that in 
 the very strength of the republic, with only common 
 success, he was secure from taking any disgraceful 
 step. But as Fabius came to the helm when Rome 
 experienced the worst and most mortifying turn of 
 fortune, he had not to preserve the well established 
 prosperity of a flourishing state, but to draw his 
 country from an abyss of misery, and raise it to hap- 
 piness. Besides, the successes of Cimon, the victo- 
 ries of Myronides and Leocrates, and the many 
 great achievements of Tolmides, rather furnished oc- 
 casion to Pericles, during his administration, to enter- 
 tain the city with feasts and games, than to make 
 new acquisitions, or to defend the old ones by arms» 
 On the other hand, Fabius had the frightful objects be- 
 fore his eyes of defeat and disgraces, of Roman con- 
 suls and generate slain, of lakes, fields, and forests full 
 of the dead carcasses of whole armies, and of rivers 
 flowing with blood down to the very sea. In this 
 tottering and decayed condition of the common- 
 wealth, he was to support it by his counsels and Ms \ 
 
 1 
 
PLtlTAHClt, 149 
 
 Vigour, and to keep it from falling into absolute ruin, 
 to which it was brought so near by the errors of for- 
 mer commanders. 
 
 It may seem, indeed, a less arduous performance 
 to manage the tempers of a people humbled by ca- 
 lamities, and compelled by necessity to listen 'to 
 reason, than to restrain the wildness and insolence of 
 a city elated with success, and wanton with power, 
 such as Athens was when Pericles held the reins of 
 government. But then, undauntedly to keep to his 
 first resolutions, and not to be discomposed by. the 
 vast weight of misfortunes with which Rome was 
 then oppressed, discovers in Fabius an admirable 
 firmness and dignity of mind. 
 
 Against the taking of Samos by Pericles, we may 
 set the retaking of Tarentum by Fabius ; and with 
 Euboea we may put in balance the towns of Campa- 
 nia. As for Capua, it was recovered afterwards by 
 the consuls Furius and Appius. Fabius, indeed, 
 gained but one set battle, for which he had his first 
 triumph ; whereas Pericles erected nine trophies for as 
 many victories won by land and sea. But none of 
 the victories of Pericles can be compared with that 
 memorable rescue of Minucius, by which Fabius re- 
 deemed him and his whole army from utter destruc- 
 tion : an action truly great, and in which you find at 
 once the bright assemblage of valour, of prudence, . 
 and humanity. Nor can Pericles* on the other hand, 
 be said ever to have committed such an error as that 
 of Fabius, when he suffered himself to be imposed on 
 by Hannibal's stratagem of the oxen ; let his enemy 
 slip in the night through those straits in which he had 
 been entangled by accident, and where he could not 
 possibly have forced his way out ; and as soon as it 
 
150 PLUTARCH. 
 
 was day saw himself repulsed by the man who so 
 lately was at his mercy. 
 
 If it is the part of a good general, not only to make* 
 a proper use of the present, but also to form the best 
 judgment of things to come, it must be allowed that 
 Pericles both foresaw and foretold what success the 
 Athenians would have in the war, namely, that they 
 would ruin themselves by grasping at too much. 
 But it was entirely against the opinion of fabius ? 
 that the Komans sent Scipio into Africa, imd yet 
 they were victorious there ; not by the favour of for- 
 tune, but by the cou age and conduct of their general. 
 So that the misfortunes of his country bore witness 
 to the sagacity of Pericles ; and from the glorious- 
 success of the Romans, it appeared that Fabius was 
 utterly mistaken. And, indeed, it is an equal fault in 
 a commander in chief, to lose an advantage through 
 diffidence, as to fall into danger for want of foresight.. 
 For it is. the same want of judgment and skill, that 
 sometimes produces too much confidence, and some- 
 times leaves too little. Thus far concerning their 
 abilities in war. 
 
 And if we consider them in their political capacity;,. 
 we sh.ill find that the greatest fault laid to the charge 
 of Pericles was, that he caused the Peloponnesiaii 
 war, through opposition to the Lacedemonians, 
 . which made him unwilling to ghe up the least point 
 to them. I do not suppose that Fabius Maximum 
 would have given up any point to the Carthaginians,. 
 but that he would generously have run the last risk 
 to maintain the dignity of Rome. 
 
 The mild and moderate behaviour of Fabius to 
 Minucius sets in a very disadvantageous iight too 
 conduct of Pericles, in his implacable persecution cf 
 
PLUTARCH. 151 
 
 Cimon and Thucydides, valuable men, and friends 
 to the aristocracy, and yet banished by his practices 
 and intrigues. 
 
 Besides, the power of Pericles was much greater 
 than that of Fabius ; and therefore he did not suffer 
 any misfortune to be brought upon Athens by the 
 wrong measures of other generals. Tolmides only 
 carried it against him for attacking the Boeotians, and 
 in doing it, he was defeated and slain. All the rest 
 adhered to his party, and submitted to his opinion, on 
 account of his superior authority ; whereas Fabius, 
 whose measures were salutary and safe, as far as they 
 depended upon himself, appears only to have fallen 
 short, by His inability to prevent the miscarriages of 
 others, tor the Romans would not have had so many 
 misfortunes to deplore, if the power of Fabius had 
 been as great in Rome, as that of Pericles in Athens. 
 
 As to their liberality and public spirit, Pericles 
 showed it in refusing the sums that were offered him, 
 and Fabius in ransoming his soldiers with his own; 
 money. This, indeed, was no great expense, being 
 only about six talents*. But it is not easy to say 
 what a treasure Pericles might have amassed from 
 the allies, and from kings who made their court to 
 him, on account of his great authority ; yet no man 
 ever kept himself more free from corruption. 
 
 As for the temples, the public edifices, and other 
 works, with which Pericles adorned Athens, all the 
 
 *Fabius was to pay two hundred and fifty drachmas 
 for each prisoner, and he ransomed two hundred 
 and forty -seven ; which would stand him in sixty- 
 one thousand seven hundred and fifty drachmas, that 
 is more than ten talents, 
 
15$ PLUTARCH» 
 
 structures of that kind in Rome put together» untii 
 the times of the Caesars, deserved not to be compared 
 with them, either in the greatness of the 'design, or 
 the excellence of the execution» 
 
 PHILOSOPHY» 
 
 Though we ought not to permit an ingenious child 
 to be without any sort of learning, no not of the most 
 trivial arts, so far as it may be gotten from lectures 
 t>f that nature, or from public shows ; yet I would 
 have him to salute such only, as in his passage, 
 taking a bare taste (seeing no man can possibly at- 
 tain to perfection in all) of each of them ; but to give 
 philosophy the pre-eminence of them all : as (to il- 
 lustrate what I say with this similitude) men are 
 desirous to see many cities for their pleasure, but 
 choose, for their profit, to fix their dwelling in the 
 best. Ingenious also (to this purpose) was the saying 
 of Bias the philosopher, that as the wooers of Penel- 
 ope, when they could not have their desire of the 
 mistress, contented themselves to have to do with her 
 maidens ; so, commonly, those students who are not 
 capable of understanding philosophy spend their 
 time in the study of those sciences that are of no 
 value. Whence it follows, that we ought to make 
 philosophy the chief of all our learning. For though, 
 in order to the welfare of the body, the industry of 
 men hath found out two arts, that of medicine, which 
 assists to the recovery of lost health, and that which 
 teaches exercises of activity, and thus helps us to 
 attain a sound constitution ; yet there is but one sole 
 art capable of curing the distempers and diseases of 
 the mind, and that is philosophy. For by the advice 
 and assistance thereof it is that we come to under- 
 
PLUTARCH. 153 
 
 stand what is honest, and what dishonest ; what is 
 just, and what is unjust : in a word, what we are to 
 desire, and what to avoid. We learn how we are 
 to demean ourselves towards the gods, towards our 
 parents, our elders, the laws, strangers, governors, 
 friends, wives, children, and servants. That is, to 
 worship the gods, to honour our parents, to reverence 
 our elders, to be subject to the laws, to obey our 
 governors, to love our friends, to use sobriety towards 
 our wives, to be affectionate to our children, and not 
 insolently to injure our servants ; and (which is the 
 chiefest lesson of all) not to he overjoyed in prosperity, 
 nor too much dejected in adversity ;not to he dissolute 
 in our pleasures, nor in our anger to be transported 
 with brutish rage and fury. These things I account 
 the principal advantages which we gain by philoso- 
 phy. For to use prosperity generously is the part of 
 a man ; to manage it so as to decline envy, of a well- 
 governed man ; to master our pleasures by reason is 
 the property of wise men ; and to moderate anger is 
 the attainment only of extraordinary men. But those, 
 of all men, I count most complete, who know how 
 to mix and contemper the managing of civil affairs 
 with philosophy ; seeing they are thereby masters of 
 two of the greatest good things that are, the promot- 
 ing public felicity by governing well, and the enjoy- 
 ing a calm tranquillity in their own bosoms, by im- 
 proving philosophical principles. For whereas there 
 are three sorts of lives (or rather ways of living), the 
 active, the contemplative, and the fruitive ; he that 
 lives the last of these is a dissolute slave to his plea- 
 sures, a brutish and low spirited man ; he that spends 
 his time in contemplation, without action, is an un- 
 profitable man ; and he that lives in action, and is 
 
154 PLUTARCH. 
 
 destitute of philosophy, is a rustical man, and com- 
 mits many absurdities. Wherefore we are to apply 
 our utmost endeavour to enable ourselves for both ; 
 that is, to manage public employments, and withal, at 
 convenient seasons, to give ourselves to philosophi- 
 cal studies. 
 
 THE DEATH OF PHOCION*. 
 
 The guards then surrounded Phocion and his party, 
 except a few, who, being at some distance, muffled 
 themselves up, and fled. Clitus carried the prisoners 
 to Athens, under colour of having them tried there, 
 but, in reality, only to have them put to death, as 
 persons already condemned. The manner of con- 
 ducting the thing made it a more melancholy scene. 
 The prisoners were carried in carts through the Cera- 
 micus to the theatre, where Clitus shut them up till 
 the archons had assembled the people. From this 
 assembly neither slaves, nor foreigners, nor persons 
 stigmatized as infamous, were excluded ; the tribu- 
 nal and the theatre were open to all. Then the 
 king's letter was read ; the purport of which was, 
 " That he had found the prisoners guilty of treason ; 
 but that he left it to the Athenians, as freemen, who 
 were to be governed by their own laws, to pass 
 sentence upon them." 
 
 At the same time Clitus presented them to the 
 people. The best of the citizens, when they saw 
 Phocion, appeared greatly dejected, and, covering 
 their faces with their mantles, began to weep; One, 
 however, had the courage to say, li Since the king 
 leaves the determination of so important a matter to 
 the people, it would be proper to command all slaves 
 and strangers to depart." But the populace, instead 
 
of agreeing to that motion, cried out, " It would be 
 much more proper to Stone all the favourers of oli- 
 garchy, all the enemies of the people. ' ' After which j 
 no one attempted to offer any thing in behalf of 
 Phocion. It Was with much difficulty that he ob- 
 tained permission to speak. At last, silence being 
 made, he said* " Do you design to take away my 
 life justly or unjustly ?" Some of them answering, 
 '* Justly ;" he said, " How can you know whether 
 it will be justly, if you do not hear me first ?" As- 
 he did not find them inclinable in the least to hear 
 him, he advanced some paces forward, and said, 
 " Citizens Of Athens, I acknowledge I have done 
 you injustice ; and for my faults in the administration, 
 adjudge myself guilty of death* ; but why will you 
 put these men to death, who have never injured 
 you ?" The populace made answer, " Because they 
 are friends to you.' 3 Upon which he drew back, 
 and resigned himself quietly to his fate. 
 
 Agnonides then read the decree he had prepared ; 
 according to which, the people were to declare by 
 their suffrages whether the prisoners appeared to be 
 guilty or not ; and if they appeared so, they were to 
 Huffer death. When the decree was read, some called 
 for an additional clause for putting Phocion to the 
 torture before execution ; and insisted, that the rack 
 and its managers should be sent for immediately, 
 But Agnonides, observing that Clitus was displeased 
 
 * It was the custom for the person accused to 
 lay some penalty on himself. Phocion chooses the 
 highest, thinking it might be a means to reconcile 
 the Athenians to his friends, but it had not that 
 effect. 
 
156 PLUTARCH. 
 
 at that proposal, and looking upon it himself as a 
 barbarous and detestable thing * said* " When we 
 take that villain Callimedon, let us put him to the 
 torture ; but, indeed, my fellow-citizens, I cannot 
 consent that Phocion should have such hard mea- 
 sure." Upon this, one of the better disposed Athe- 
 nians cried out, " Thou art certainly right \ for if we 
 torture Phocion, what must we do to thee ?" There 
 was, however, hardly One negative when the sen- 
 tence of death was proposed : all the people gave 
 their voices standing ; and some of them even 
 crowned themselves with flowers, as if it had been 
 a matter of festivity. With Phocion, there were 
 Nicocles, Thudippus,-Hegemon, and Pythocles. As 
 for Demetrius the Phalerean, Callimedon, Charicles, 
 and some others, who were absentj the same sen- 
 tence was passed upon them. 
 
 After the assembly was dismissed, the convicts 
 were sent to prison. The embraces of their friends 
 and relations melted them into tears ; and they all 
 went on bewailing their fate^ except Phocion. His 
 countenance was the same as when the people sent 
 him out to command their armies ; and the beholders 
 could not but admire his invincible firmness and mag- 
 nanimity. Some of- his enemies, indeed, reviled him 
 as he went along ; and One of them even spit in his 
 face : upon which he turned to the magistrates, and 
 said, " Will nobody correct this fellow's rudeness?" 
 Thudippus, when he saw the executioner pounding 
 the hemlock, began to. lament what hard fortune it 
 was for him to suffer unjustly on Phdcion's account. 
 " What then !" said the venerable sage, " dost thou 
 not think it an honour to die with Phocion ?" One 
 of his friends asking him whether he had any com- 
 
PLUTARCH, 1ST 
 
 inaiidsto his son ; "Yes," said he, " by all means? 
 tell him from me, to forget the ill treatment I have 
 had from the Athenians." And when Nieocles, the 
 most faithful of his friends, begged that he would let 
 him drink the poison before him ; "This," said he, 
 " Nieocles, is a hard request ; and the thing must 
 give me great uneasiness ; but since i have obliged 
 you in every instance through life, I will do the same 
 in this." 
 
 When they came all to drink, the quantity proved 
 not sufficient ; and the executioner refused to prepare 
 more, except he had twelve drachmas paid him, 
 which was the price of a full draught. As this occa- 
 sioned a troublesome delay, Phocion called one of his 
 friends, and said, " Since one cannot die on free cost 
 at Athens, give the man his money." This execu- 
 tion was on the nineteenth day of April, when there 
 was a procession of horsemen in honour of Jupiter. 
 As the cavalcade passed by, some took off their 
 chaplets from their heads ; others shed tears, as they 
 looked at the prison doors ; all who had not hearts 
 entirely savage, or were not corrupted by rage and 
 envy, looked upon it as a most impious thing, not to 
 have reprieved them at least for that day, and so to 
 have kept the city unpolluted on the festival. 
 
 However, the enemies of«Phocion, as if something 
 had been wanting to their triumph, got an order that 
 his body should not be suffered to remain within the 
 bounds of Attica ; nor that any Athenian should 
 furnish fire for the funeral pile. Therefore no friend 
 durst touch it ; but one Conopion, who lived by such 
 services, for a sum of money, carried the corpse out 
 of the territories of Eleusis, and got fire for the burning 
 of it in those of Megara. A woman of Megara, who 
 
158 plutarch; 
 
 happened to assist at the ceremony with her maid^ 
 servants, raised a eenotaph upon the spot, and per- 
 formed the customary libations. The bones she ga- 
 thered up carefully into her lap, carried them by night 
 to her own house, and interred them under the hearth. 
 At the same time she thus addressed the domestic 
 gods : " Ye guardians of this place, to you I commit 
 the remains of this good man. Do you restore them 
 to the sepulchre of his ancestors, when the Athenians 
 shall once more listen to the dictates of wisdom." 
 
 POPULARITY* 
 
 It is not without appearance of probability that 
 some think the fable of Ixion designed to represent 
 the fate of ambitious men. Ixion took a cloud in- 
 stead of Juno to his arms> and the Centaurs were 
 the offspring of their embrace : the ambitious em- 
 brace honour, which is only the image of virtue ; 
 and, governed by different impulses, actuated by 
 emulation and all the variety of passions, they pro- 
 duce nothing pure and genuine ; the whole issue is 
 of a preposterous kind. The shepherds in Sopho- 
 cles say of their flocks, 
 
 — These are our subjects, yet we serve them. 
 And listen to their mute command. 
 
 The same may be truly affirmed of those great 
 statesmen who govern according to the capricious 
 and violent inclinations of the people. They become 
 slaves, to gain the name of magistrates and rulers. 
 As in a ship those at the oar can see what is before 
 them better than the pilot, and yet are often looking 
 back to him for orders ; so they who take their mea-» 
 
PLUTARCH. 159 
 
 sures of administration only with a view to popular 
 applause, are called governors indeed, but, in fact, 
 are no more than slaves of the people. 
 
 The complete, the honest statesman, has no farther 
 regard to the public opinion than as the confidence it 
 gains him facilitates his designs, and crowns them 
 with success. An ambitious young man may be 
 allowed, indeed, to value himself upon his great and 
 good actions, and to expect his portion of fame. For 
 virtues, as Theophrastus says, when they first begin 
 to grow in persons of that age and disposition, are 
 cherished and strengthened by praise, and afterwards 
 increase in proportion as the love of glory increases. 
 But an immoderate passion for fame, in all affairs, is 
 dangerous, and in political matters destructive : for, 
 joined to great authority, this passion drives all that 
 are possessed with it into folly and madness, while 
 they no longer think that glorious which is good, 
 but account whatever is glorious to be also good and 
 honest. Therefore, as Phocion said to Antipater 
 when he desired something of him inconsistent with 
 justice, " You cannot have Phocion for your friend 
 and flatterer too ;" this, or something like it, should 
 be said to the multitude ; * 4 You cannot have the 
 same man both for your governor and your slave :" 
 for that would be no more than exemplifying the fa- 
 ble of the serpent. The tail, it seems, one day quar- 
 relled with the head, and, instead of being forced al- 
 ways to follow, insisted that it should lead in its turn. 
 Accordingly, the tail undertook the charge, and, as it 
 moved forward at all adventures, it tore itself in a 
 terrible manner : and the head, which was thus 
 obliged, against nature, to follow a guide that could 
 neither see nor hear, suffered likewise in its turn. 
 
160 PLUTARCH. 
 
 We see many under the same predicament, whose 
 object is popularity in all the steps of their adminis- 
 tration. Attached entirely to the capricious mul- 
 titude, they produce such disorders as they can 
 neither redress nor restrain. 
 
 PUNISHING IN ANGER. 
 
 As Phocion, after the death of Alexander, to hinder 
 the Athenians from rising too soon, or believing it too 
 hastily, said, " O Athenians, if he be dead to-day, he 
 will be so to-morrow, and on the next day after that ;' ' 
 in like manner do I judge one ought to suggest to 
 himself, who through anger is making haste to punish, 
 64 if it be true to-day that he hath thus wronged thee, 
 it will be true to-morrow, and on the next day also." 
 Nor will there any inconvenience follow, upon the 
 deferring of his punishment for awhile ; but if he 
 be punished all in haste, he will ever after seem to 
 have been innocent, as it hath oftentimes fallen out 
 heretofore. For which of us all is so cruel as tp 
 torment or scourge a servant, because five or ten days 
 before, he burnt the meat, or overturned the table, or 
 did not soon enough what he was bidden ? And yet 
 truly it is for such things as these, while they are fresh 
 and newly done, that we are so disordered, becoming 
 cruel and implacable ; for as bodies through a mist, 
 so actions through anger, seem greater than they are. 
 Wherefore we ought speedily to recal such considera- 
 tions as these are to our mind ; and being unquestiona- 
 bly out of passion, if then, to a pure and composed 
 reason, the deed do appear to be wicked, we ought to 
 animadvert, and not defer any longer, nor forbear to 
 punish it, as those do to eat their food, who have lost 
 their appetite. For there is nothing to which we can 
 
PLUTARCH. 161 
 
 more justly impute men punishing others in their 
 anger, than to their not punishing them, when their 
 anger is over, but growing remiss, and doing like lazy 
 mariners, who in fair weather keep loitering within 
 the haven, and then, when the wind blows strong, 
 put to sea, though not without evident danger ; for 
 we likewise, condemning the remissness and over 
 calmness of our reason in punishing, make haste to 
 do it, while our anger is up, and pushes us forward 
 like a dangerous wind. 
 
 He that useth food doth it to gratify his hunger^ 
 which is natural ; but he that inflicts punishment 
 should do it without either hungering or thirsting 
 after it, not needing anger, like sauce, to quicken, or 
 whet him on to punish ; but when he is farthest off 
 . from desiring it, bringing his reason to do it as a 
 thing most necessary . 
 
 NOBLE PURSUITS. 
 
 When Caesar happened to see some strangers at 
 Rome carrying young dogs and monkeys in their 
 arms, and fondly caressing them, he asked, 6( Whe- 
 ther the women in their country never bore any chil- 
 dren?" thus reproving with a proper severity those 
 who lavish upon brutes that natural tenderness which 
 is due only to mankind. In the same manner we 
 must condemn those who employ that curiosity and 
 love of knowledge which nature has implanted in the 
 human soul upon low and worthless objects, while 
 they neglect such as are excellent and useful. Our 
 senses, indeed, by an effect almost mechanical, are 
 passive to the impression of outward objects, whether 
 agreeable or offensive : but the mind, possessed of a 
 self-directing power, may turn its attention to what- 
 
l&% PLUTARCH. 
 
 ever it thinks proper. It should, therefore, be em* 
 ployed in the most useful pursuits, not barely in 
 contemplation, but in such contemplation as may 
 nourish its faculties. For as that colour is best 
 suited to the eye, which by its beauty and agreeable- 
 ness at the same time both refreshes and strengthens 
 the sight, so the application of the mind should be 
 directed to those subjects, which through the channel 
 of pleasure may lead us to our proper happiness. 
 Such are the works of virtue. The very description 
 of these inspires us with emulation, and a strong 
 desire to imitate them ; whereas in other things, 
 admiration does not always lead us to imitate what 
 we admire ; but, on the contrary, while we are 
 charmed with the work, we often despise the work- 
 man. Thus we are pleased with perfumes and pur- 
 ple, while dyers and perfumers appear to us in the 
 light of mean mechanics. 
 
 Antisthenes*, therefore, when he was told that 
 Ismenias played excellently upon the flute, answered 
 properly enough, " Then he is good for nothing 
 else ; otherwise he would not have played so well.*' 
 Such also was Philip's saying to his son, when at a 
 certain entertainment he sang in a very agreeable 
 and skilful manner, " Are not you ashamed to sing 
 so well ?" It is enough for a prince to bestow a 
 vacant hour upon hearing others sing, and he does 
 the muses sufficient honour, if he attends the per- 
 formances of those who excel in their arts. 
 
 If a man applies himself to servile or mechanical 
 employments, his industry in those things is a proof 
 
 * Antisthenes was a disciple of Socrates, and 
 founder of the sect of the Cynics. 
 
PLtTTA&CH, 163 
 
 of his inattention to nobler studies. No young man 
 of noble birth or liberal sentiments, from seeing the 
 Jupiter at Pisa, would desire to be Phidias, or from 
 the sight of the Juno at Argos, to be Polycletus ; or 
 Anacreon, or Philemon, or Archilocus, though de- 
 lighted with their poems*. For though a work may 
 be agreeable, yet esteem of the author is not the ne- 
 cessary consequence. We may therefore conclude, 
 that things of this kind which excite not a spirit, of 
 emulation, nor produce any strong impulse or desire 
 to imitate them, are of little use to the beholders. 
 But virtue has this peculiar property, that at the same 
 time that we admire her conduct, we long to copy the 
 example* The goods of fortune we wish to enjoy, 
 virtue we desire to practise : the former we are glad 
 to receive from others, the latter we are ambitious that 
 others should receive from us. The beauty of good- 
 ness has an attractive power ; it kindles in us at once 
 an active principle ; it forms our manners, and 
 influences our desires, not only when represented 
 in a living example, but even in an historical de- 
 scription. 
 
 * This (Dr. Langhorne justly observes), seems to 
 be somewhat inconsistent with that respect and es- 
 teem, in which the noble arts of poetry and sculpture 
 were held in ancient Greece and Rome, and with that 
 admiration which the proficients in those arts always 
 obtain among the people. But there was still a kind 
 of jealousy between the poets and philosophers, and 
 our philosophical biographer shows pretty clearly by 
 the Platonic parade of this introduction, that he would 
 magnify the latter at the expense of the former. 
 
104 PkTJTARCH. 
 
 RETIREMENT. 
 
 If you will needs seclude us from all knowledge 
 and acquaintance with the world (as men do light 
 from their entertainments and drinking bouts, for 
 which they set the night apart) , let it be only such 
 who make it the whole business of life to heap plea- 
 sure upon pleasure ; let such live recluses all their 
 days. Were I, in truth, to wanton away my days 
 in the arms of your miss, Hedia, or spend them with 
 Leontion, another darling of yours ; were I to bid 
 defiance to virtue, or to place all that is good in the 
 gratification of the flesh, or the ticklings of a sensual 
 pleasure, these accursed actions and rights would need 
 darkness and an eternal night to veil them ; and may 
 they ever be doomed to oblivion and obscurity. But 
 what should they hide their heads for, who, with re- 
 gard to works of nature, own and magnify a God, who 
 celebrate his justice and providence, who in point of 
 morality are due observers of the law, promoters of 
 society and community among men, lovers of the 
 public weal, and in the administration thereof prefer 
 the common good before private advantage ? For 
 what should such men cloister up themselves, and live 
 recluses from the world ? Would you have them out 
 of the way, for fear that they should teach others to 
 be good too ? For fear they should set a good exam- 
 ple, and allure others to virtue out of emulation of 
 the precedent? If the valour of Themistocles had been 
 unknown at Athens, Greece had never given Xerxes 
 that repulse : had not Camillus shown himself in de- 
 fence of the Romans, their city Rome had no longer 
 stood : Sicily had not recovered her liberty, had Plato 
 
PLUTARCH. 165 
 
 been a stranger to Dion. Truly, in my mind, to be 
 known to the world, under some eminent character, 
 not only carries a reputation with it, but makes the 
 virtues in us become practical, like light, which ren- 
 ders us not only visible but useful to others. Epami- 
 nondas, during the first forty years of his life, in 
 which no notice was taken of him, was an useless cit- 
 izen to Thebes ; but afterwards, when he had once 
 gained credit and the government amongst them, he 
 both rescued the city from present destruction, and 
 freed even Greece herself from imminent slavery, ex- 
 hibiting (like light, which is in its own nature glori- 
 ous, and to others beneficial at the same time), a 
 valour seasonably active and serviceable to his coun- 
 try, yet interwoven with his own laurels : For 
 
 Virtue, like finest brass, by use grows bright. 
 
 And not our houses alone, when (as Sophocles has 
 it) they stand long untenanted, run the faster to ruin, 
 but men's natural parts lying unemployed for lack of 
 acquaintance with the world, contract a kind of filth 
 or rust and craziness thereby. For sottish ease, and a 
 life wholly sedentary and given up to idleness, spoils 
 and debilitates, not only the body but the soul too. 
 And as close waters shadowed over by bordering trees, 
 and stagnated, in default of springs to supply current 
 and motion to them, become foul and corrupt ; so 
 methinks the innate faculti.es and powers of a dull 
 unstirring soul, whatever usefulness, whatever seeds 
 of good she may have latent in her, yet when she puts 
 not those powers into action, when once they stagnate, 
 they lose their vigour and run to decay. See you not 
 how, on night's approach, a sluggish drowsiness oft- 
 times seizes the body, and sloth and inactiveness 
 
166 PLUTARCH. 
 
 surprise the soul, and she finds herself heavy and quite 
 unfit for action ? Have you not then observed how a 
 man's reason (like fire, scarce visible, and just going 
 out), retires into itself, and what with inactivity and 
 dulness, every little flitting object so shatters and 
 endangers the extinguishing it, that there remain but 
 some obscure indications that the man is alive ? 
 
 But when the orient sun brings back the day, 
 It chases night and dreary sleep away. 
 
 He doth, as it were, bring the world together again, 
 and with his returned light calls up and excites all 
 mankind to thought and action ; and, as Democritus 
 tells us, men setting themselves, every new-spring 
 day, to endeavour of mutual beneficence and service 
 one towards another, as if they were fastened in the 
 straitest tie together, do all of them, some from one, 
 some from another, quarter of the world, rouse up 
 and awake to action. For my own part, I am fully 
 persuaded, that life itself, and our being born at the 
 rate we are, and the origin we share in common, 
 with all mankind, were vouchsafed us by God, to the 
 intent we should be known to one another. 
 
 ROMULUS AND THESEUS COMPARED. 
 
 This is all that I have met with that deserves to be 
 related concerning Romulus and Theseus. And to 
 come to the comparison ; first it appears, that Theseus 
 was inclined to great enterprises, by his own proper 
 choice, and compelled by no necessity, since he might 
 have reigned in peace at Trcezene, over a kingdom 
 by no means contemptible, which would have fallen 
 to him by succession : whereas Romulus, in order 
 to avoid present slavery and impending punishment, 
 
became valiant, as Plato expresses it, through fear* 
 and was driven by the terror of extreme sufferings to 
 arduous attempts* Besides, the greatest action of 
 Romulus was the killing of one tyrant in x\lba. But 
 the first exploits of Theseus, performed occasionally, 
 and by way of prelude only, were those of destroying 
 Sciron, Sinnis, Procustes, and the club-bearer ; by 
 whose punishment and death he delivered Greece 
 from several cruel tyrants, before they, for whose 
 preservation he was labouring, knew him, More- 
 over, he might have gone safely to Athens by sea, 
 without any danger from robbers ; but Romulus could 
 have no security while Amulius lived. This differ- 3 
 ence is evident. Theseus, when unmolested himself, 
 went forth to rescue others from their oppressors. 
 On the other hand, Romulus and his brother, while 
 they were uninjured by the tyrant themselves, quiet- 
 ly suffered him to exercise his cruelties. And, if it 
 was a great thing for Romulus to be wounded in the 
 battle with the Sabines, to kill Acron, and to con- 
 quer many other enemies, we may set against these 
 distinctions the battle with the Centaurs, and the 
 war with the Amazons, 
 
 But as to Theseus 's enterprize with respect to the 
 Cretan tribute, when he voluntarily offered to go 
 among the young men and virgins, whether he was to 
 expect to be food for some wild beast, o«r to be sacri- 
 ficed at Androgeus's tomb, or, which is the lightest 
 of all the evils said to be prepared for him, to submit 
 to a vile and dishonourable slavery, it is not easy to 
 express his.ceurage and magnanimity, his regard for 
 justice and the public good, and his love of glory and 
 of virtue. On this occasion, it appears to me, that 
 the philosophers have not ill defined love to be a rem- 
 
168 PLUTARCH* 
 
 edy provided by the gods for the safety and pre*-* 
 ervation of youth. For Ariadne's love seems to 
 have been the work of some god, who designed by 
 that means to preserve this great man. Nor should 
 we blame her for her passion, but rather wonder that 
 all were not alike affected towards him. And if she 
 alone w*as sensible of that tenderness* I may justly 
 pronounce her worthy the love of a god, as she 
 showed so great a regard for virtue and excellence in 
 her attachment to so worthy a man. 
 
 Both Theseus and Romulus were born with politi- 
 cal talents ; yet neither of them preserved the proper 
 character of a king, but deviated from the due me- 
 dium, the one erring on the side of democracy, the 
 other on that of absolute power j according to their 
 different tempers. For a prince's first concern is to 
 preserve the government itself ; and this is effected no 
 less by avoiding whatever Is improper, than by cul- 
 tivating what is suitable to his dignity. Ke who 
 gives up, or extends his authority, continues not a 
 prince or a king, but degenerates into a republican or 
 a tyrant, and thus incurs either the hatred or con- 
 tempt of his subjects. The former seems to be the 
 error of a mild and humane disposition, the latter of 
 self-love and severity. 
 
 If, then, the calamities of mankind are not to be 
 entirely attributed to fortune, but we are to seek the 
 cause m their different manners and passions, here we 
 shall find, that unreasonable anger^ with quick and 
 unadvised resentment, is to be imputed both to Ro- 
 mulus, in the case of his brother, and to Theseus in 
 that of his son. But, if we consider whence their 
 anger took its rise, the latter seems the more ex- 
 cusable^ from the greater cause he had for resentment, 
 
fcLUTARCH; ^69 
 
 as yielding to the heavier blow. For, as the dispute 
 began when Romulus was in cool consultation for the 
 common good, one would think he could not pres- 
 ently have given way to such a passion. Whereas 
 Theseus was urged against his son by emotions which 
 few men have been able to withstand, proceeding 
 from love, jealousy, and the false suggestions of his 
 wife. What is more, the anger of Romulus dis- 
 charged itself in an action of most unfortunate conse- 
 quence ; but that of Theseus proceeded no further; 
 than words, reproaches, and imprecations, the usual 
 revenge of old men. The rest of the young man'a 
 misery seems to have been owing to fortune. Thus 
 far, Theseus seems to deserve the preference. 
 
 But Romulus has, in the first place* this great ad- 
 vantage, that he rbse to distinction from very small 
 beginnings. For the two brothers were reputed 
 slaves and sons Of herdsmen ; and yet, before they 
 attained to liberty themselves, they bestowed it on 
 almost all the Latins ; gaining at once the most glori- 
 ous titles, as destroyers of their enemies, deliverers of 
 their kindred, kings of nations, and founders of cities? 
 not transplanters, as Theseus was* who filled, indeed^ 
 one city with people, but it was by ruining many 
 others, which bore the names of ancient kings and 
 heroes. And Romulus afterwards effected the same 
 when he compelled his enemies to demolish their ha- 
 bitations* and incorporate with their conquerors. He 
 had not, however, a city ready built, to enlarge, or to 
 transplant inhabitants to from Other towns, but he 
 created one, gaining to himself lands, a country, a 
 kingdom, children, wives, alliances ; and this without 
 destroying or ruining any one. On the contrary, he 
 was a great benefactor to persons who j having neither 
 8 
 
170 PLUTARCH. 
 
 house nor habitation, willingly became his citizens 
 and people. He did not, indeed, like Theseus, de- 
 stroy robbers and ruffians, but he subdued nations, 
 took cities, and triumphed over kings and generals. 
 
 As for the fate of Remus, it is doubtful by what 
 hand he fell ; most writers ascribing it to others, and 
 not to Romulus. But* in the face of all the world, 
 he saved his mother from destruction, and placed his 
 grandfather, who lived in mean and dishonourable 
 subjection, upon the throne of ^Eneas : moreover, he 
 voluntarily did him many kind offices, but never in- 
 jured him, not even inadvertently. On the other 
 hand, I think Theseus, in forgetting or neglecting the 
 command about the sail, can scarcely, by any ex- 
 cusesj or before the mildest judges, avoid the impu- 
 tation of parricide. Sensible how difficult the defence 
 of this affair would be to those who should attempt 
 it, a certain Athenian writer feigns, that when the 
 ship approached, yEgeus ran in great haste to the 
 citadel for the better view of it, and missing his step, 
 fell down ; as if he were destitute of servants, or 
 went, in whatever hurry, unattended to the sea. 
 
 Moreover, Theseus's rapes and offences, with re- 
 spect to women, admit of no plausible excuse ; be- 
 cause, in the first place, they were committed often : 
 for he carried off Ariadne, Antiope, and Anaxo the 
 Trcezenian ; after the rest, Helen ; though she was a 
 girl not yet come to maturity, and he so far advanced 
 in years, that it was time for him to think no more 
 even of lawful marriage. The next aggravation is the 
 cause ; for the daughters of the Troezenians, the Lace- 
 daemonians, and the AmazonSj were not more fit to 
 bring children than those of the Athenians sprung 
 from Erechtheus and Cecrops; These things, there- 
 
PLUTARCH. 171 
 
 fore, are liable to the suspicion of a wanton and licen- 
 tious appetite. On the other hand, Romulus, having 
 carried off at once almost eight hundred women, did 
 not take them all, but only Hersilia, as it is said, 
 for himself, and distributed the rest among the most 
 respectable citizens. And afterwards, by the honour- 
 able and affectionate treatment he procured for them, 
 he turned that injury and violence into a glorious ex- 
 ploit, performed with a political view to the good of 
 society. Thus he united and cemented the two nations 
 together, and opened a source of future kindness, and 
 of additional power. Time bears witness to the con- 
 jugal modesty, tenderness, and fidelity, which he es- 
 tablished ; for during two hundred and thirty years, 
 no man attempted to leave his wife, nor any woman 
 her husband*. And, as the very curious among the 
 Greeks can tell you who was the first person that kill- 
 ed his father and mother, so all the Romans know 
 that Spurius Carvilius was the first that divorced his 
 wife, alleging her barrenness. The immediate effects, < 
 as well as length of time, attest what I have said. 
 For the two kings shared the kingdom, and the two 
 nations came under the same government, by means 
 of these alliances. But the marriages of Theseus 
 procured the Athenians no friendship with any other 
 state ; on the contrary, enmity, wars, the destruction 
 of their citizens, and at last the loss of Aphidnse ; 
 which, only through the compassion of the enemy, 
 whom the inhabitants supplicated and honoured like 
 
 * These numbers are wrong ; for Dionysius of 
 Halicarnassus marks the time with great exactness, 
 acquainting us, that it was five hundred and twenty 
 years after the building of Rome. j 
 
172 PLXTTARCH. 
 
 gods, escaped the fate that befel Troy by means of 
 Paris. However, the mother of Theseus, deserted 
 and given up by her son, was not only in danger of, 
 but really did suffer, the misfortunes of Hecuba, if 
 her captivity be not a fiction, as a great deal besides 
 may very well be. As to the stories we have concern- 
 ing both, of a supernatural kind, the difference is 
 great. For Romulus was preserved by the signal fa- 
 vour of heaven : but as the oracle which commanded 
 iEgeus not to approach any woman in a foreign 
 country was not observed, the birth of Theseus ap- 
 pears to have been unacceptable to the gods. 
 
 SERTORIUS AND EUMENES COMPARED. 
 
 These are the most remarkable particulars which 
 history has given us concerning Eumenes and Serto- 
 rius. And now to come to the comparison. We ob- 
 serve first, that though they were both strangers, 
 aliens, and exiles, they had, to the end of their days, 
 the command of many warlike nations, and great and 
 respectable armies. Sertorius, indeed, has this ad- 
 vantage, that his fellow- warriors ever freely gave up 
 the command to him on account of his superior me- 
 rit ; whereas many disputed the post of honour with 
 Eumenes, and it was his actions only that obtained it 
 for him. The officers of Sertorius were ambitious to 
 have him at their head ; but those who acted under 
 Eumenes never had recourse to him, till experience 
 had showed them their own incapacity, and the ne- 
 cessity of employing another. 
 
 The one was a Roman, and commanded the Spa- 
 niards and Lusitanians, who for many years had been 
 subject to Rome ; the other was a Chersonesian, and 
 commanded the Macedonians,who had conquered the 
 
PLUTARCK. 173 
 
 whole world. It should be considered too, that Ser- 
 torius the more easily made his way, because he was 
 a senator, and had led armies before ; but Eumenes, 
 with the disreputation of having been only a secretary , 
 raised himself to the first military employments. Nor 
 had Eumenes only fewer advantages, but greater im- 
 pediments also in the road to honour. Numbers op- 
 posed him openly, and as many formed private de- 
 signs against his life : whereas no man ever opposed 
 Sertorius in public, and it was not till towards the last, 
 that a few of his party entered upon a private scheme 
 to destroy him. The dangers of Sertorius were gen- 
 erally over when he had gained a victory ; and the 
 dangers of Eumenes grew out of his very victories, 
 among those who envied his success. 
 
 Their military performances were equal and similar, 
 but their dispositions were very different. Eumenes 
 loved war, and had a native spirit of contention ; 
 Sertorius loved peace and tranquillity. The former 
 might have lived in great security and honour, if he 
 would not have stood in the way of the great ; but 
 he rather chose to tread for ever in the uneasy paths 
 of power, though he had to fight every step he took ; 
 the latter would gladly have withdrawn from the tu- 
 mult of public affairs ; but was forced to continue the 
 war, to defend himself against his restless persecutors. 
 For Antigonus would have taken pleasure in employ- 
 ing Eumenes, if he would have given up the dispute 
 for superiority, and been content with the station next 
 to his ; whereas Pompey would no!; grant Sertorius his 
 request to live a private citizen. Hence, the one vol- 
 untarily engaged in war, for the sake of gaining the 
 chief command ; the other involuntarily took the com- 
 mand, because he could not live in peace. Eumenes, 
 
174 PLtrTARCM, 
 
 therefore, in his passion for the camp, preferred amblU 
 tibn to safety ; Sertorius was an able warrior, but em j 
 ployed his talents only for the safety of his person. 
 The one was not apprised of his impending fate ; the 
 other expected his every moment. The one had the 
 candid praise of confidence in his friends ; the other 
 incurred the censure of weakness ; for he would have 
 fled, but could not. The death of Sertorius did no 
 dishonour to his life ; he suffered that from his fellow- 
 soldiers which the enemy could not have effected* 
 Eumenes could not avoid his chains^ yet after the 
 indignity of chains;, he wanted to live ; so that he 
 could neither escape death > nor meet it as he ought 
 to have done ; but, by having recourse to 'mean ap- 
 plications and entreaties* put his mind in the power 
 of the man who was only master of his body. 
 
 SERTORITJS'S LESSON TO HIS TROOPS. 
 
 The event answered his expectation. They fought 
 and were beaten ; but making up with succours, he 
 rallied the fugitives, and conducted them safe into 
 the camp. His next step was to rouse them up out 
 of their despondence. For which purpose, a few days 
 after, he assembled all his forces, and produced two 
 horses before them ; the one old and feeble» the other 
 large and strong, and remarkable besides for a fine 
 flowing tail. By the poor weak horse stood a robust 
 able-bodied man, and by the strong horse stood a 
 little man of a very contemptible appearance. Upon 
 a signal given, the strong man began to pull and drag 
 about the weak horse by the tail, as if he would pull 
 it off ; and the little man to pluck off the hairs of the 
 great horse's tail, one by one. The former tugged 
 and toiled a long time to the great diversion of the 
 
Spectators, and at last was forced to give up the point ; 
 the latter, without any difficulty, soon stripped the 
 great horse's tail of all its hair. Then Sertorius rose 
 up and said, " You see, my friends and fellow-sol* 
 diers, how much greater are the effects of persever- 
 ance than those of force, and that there are many 
 things invincible in their collective capacity and in a 
 state of union, which may gradually be overcome 
 when they are Once separated. In short, persever- 
 ance is irresistible. By this means, time attacks and 
 destroys the strongest things upon earth. Time, I 
 say, who is the best friend and ally to those that have 
 the discernment to use it properly, and watch the op- 
 portunities it presents, and the worst enemy to those 
 who will be rushing into action when it does not call 
 them." By such symbols as these, Sertorius applied 
 to the senses of the barbarians, and instructed them 
 to wait for proper junctures and occasions. 
 
 SOLON AND PUBLICOLA COMPARED, 
 
 There is something singular in this parallel, and 
 what has not occurred to us in any other of the lives 
 we have written, that Publicola. should exemplify the 
 maxims of Solon, and that Solon should proclaim 
 before-hand the happiness of Publicola. For the 
 definition of happiness which Solon gave Croesus is 
 more applicable to Publicola than to Tellus. It is 
 true, he pronounces Tellus happy, on account of his 
 virtue, his valuable children, and glorious death ; yet 
 he mentions him not in his poems as eminently dis- 
 tinguished by his virtue, his children. Or his employ- 
 ments. For Publicola, in his lifetime, attained the 
 highest reputation and authority among the Romans, 
 by means of his virtues ; and after his death his family 
 
176 PLUTARCH. 
 
 was reckoned among the most honourable ^ the houses 
 of the Publicolae, the Messalae, and Valerii, illustrious 
 for the space of six hundred years, still acknowledg- 
 ing him as the fountain of their honour. Tellus, like 
 a brave man, keeping his post, and fighting till the 
 last, fell by the enemy's hand ; whereas Publicola * 
 after having slain his enemies (a much happier cir- 
 cumstance than to be slain by them), after seeing his 
 country victorious through his conduct as consul and 
 as general, after triumphs and all other marks of hon- 
 our, died that death which Solon had so passionately 
 wished for, and declared so happy. Solon, again, 
 in his answer to Mimnermus, concerning the period 
 of human life, thus exclaims ;, 
 
 Let friendship's faithful heart attend my bier, 
 Heave the sad sigh, and drop the pitying tear I 
 
 And Publicola had this felicity. For he was lament- 
 ed, not only by his friends and relations, but hy the 
 whole city ; thousands attended his funeral with tears,, 
 with regret, with the deepest sorrow ; and the Ro- 
 man matrons mourned for him as for the loss of a 
 son, a brother, or a common parent. 
 
 Another wish of Solon's is thus expressed : 
 
 The flow of riches, though desired, 
 Life's real goods if well acquired, 
 Unjustly let me never gain, 
 Lest vengeance follow in their train. 
 
 And Publicola not only acquired, but employed his 
 riches honourably, for he was a generous benefactor 
 to the poor : so that if Solon was the wisest, Publi- 
 cola was the happiest of human kind. What the 
 former had wished for as the greatest and most desk- 
 
3>I/0"TARCK. 177 
 
 able of Hessings, the latter actually possessed, and 
 continued to enjoy. 
 
 Thus Solon did honour to Publicola, and he to 
 Solon in his turn. For he considered him as the 
 most excellent pattern that could be proposed, in re- 
 gulating a democracy ; and, like him, laying aside 
 the pride of power, he rendered it gentle and accept- 
 able to all. He also made use of several of Solon's 
 laws ; for he empowered the people to elect their 
 own magistrates, and left an appeal to them from the 
 sentence of other courts, as the Athenian law-giver 
 had done. He did not, indeed, with Solon, create 
 a new senate, but he almost doubled the number of 
 that which he found in being. 
 
 His reason for appointing qucestors or treasurers 
 was, that if the consul was a worthy man, he might 
 have leisure to attend to greater affairs ; if unworthy, 
 that he might not have greater opportunities of injus- 
 tice, when both the government and treasury were 
 under his direction. 
 
 Publico! a 's aversion to tyrants was stronger than 
 that of Solon. For the latter made every attempt 
 to set up arbitrary power punishable by law ; but 
 the former made it death without the formality of 
 trial. Solon, indeed, justly and reasonably plumes 
 himself upon refusing absolute power, when both the 
 state of affairs and the inclinations of the people would 
 have readily admitted it ■; and yet it was no less glo- 
 rious for Publicola, when, Ending the consular au- 
 thority too despotic, he rendered it milder and more 
 popular, and did not stretch it so far as he might have 
 done. That this was the best method of governing, 
 Solon, seems to have been sensible before him, when 
 he says of a republic : 
 
178 PLUTARCH. 
 
 The reins nor strictly nor too loosely hold, 
 And safe the car of slippery power you guide. 
 
 But the annulling of debts was peculiar to Solon,, 
 and indeed was the most effectual way to support the 
 liberty of the people. For laws intended to establish 
 an equality would be of no avail, while the poor were . 
 deprived of the benefit of that equality by their debts. 
 Where they seemed most to exercise then liberty, in 
 offices, in debates, and in deciding causes, there they 
 were most enslaved to the rich, and entirely under 
 their control. What is more considerable in this 
 case is, that though the cancelling of debts generally 
 produces seditions, Solon seasonably applied it as a 
 strong, though hazardous medicine, to remove the 
 sedition then existing. The measure, too, lost its in- 
 famous and obnoxious nature, when made use of by 
 a man of Solon's probity and character. 
 
 If we consider the whole administration of each, 
 Solon's was more illustrious at first. He was an ori- 
 ginal, and followed no example ; besides, by himself, 
 without a colleague, he effected many great things for 
 the public advantage. But Publicola's fortune was 
 more to be admired at last. For Solon lived to see 
 his own establishment overturned ; whereas that of 
 Publicola preserved the state in good order to the time 
 of the civil wars. And no wonder ; since the former,, 
 as soon as he had enacted his laws, left them inscribed 
 on tables of wood, without any one to support their 
 authority, and departed from Athens ; whilst the 
 latter, remaining at Rome, and continuing in the ma- 
 gistracy, thoroughly established and secured the com- 1 
 monwealth. j 
 
 Solon was sensible of the ambitious designs of f 
 
PLUTARCH. 179 
 
 Pisistratus, and desirous to prevent their being put in 
 execution ; but he miscarried in the attempt, and saw 
 a tyrant set up. On the. other hand, Publicola de- 
 molished kingly power, when it had been established 
 for some ages, and was at a formidable height. He 
 was equalled by Solon in virtue and patriotism, but 
 he had power and good fortune to second his virtue, 
 which the other wanted. 
 
 As to warlike exploits, there is a considerable dif- 
 ference ; for Daimachus Platceensis does not even 
 attribute that enterprise against the Megarensians to 
 Solon, as we have done ; whereas Publicola, in many 
 great battles, performed the duty both of a general 
 and a private soldier* 
 
 Again : if we compare their conduct in civil affairs, 
 we shall find that Solon, only acting a part, as it were* 
 and under the form of a maniac, went out to speak 
 concerning the recovery of Salamis. But Publicola, 
 in the face of the greatest danger, rose up against 
 Tarquin, detected the plot, prevented the escape of 
 the vile conspirators, had them punished, and not 
 only excluded the tyrants from the city, but cut up 
 their hopes by the roots. If" he was thus vigorous in 
 prosecuting afiairs that required spirit, resolution, and 
 open force, he was still more successful in negotia- 
 tion, and the gentle arts of persuasion ; for by his 
 address he gained Porsena, whose power was so for- 
 midable, that he could not be quelled by dint of 
 arms, and made him a friend to Rome. 
 
 But here perhaps some will object, that Solon re- 
 covered Salamis when the Athenians had given it up ; 
 whereas Publicola surrendered lands that the Romans 
 were in possession of. Our judgment of actions, 
 however, should be formed according to the respective 
 
1$0 PjLUTARCH, 
 
 times and postures of affairs. An able politician, i& 
 manage all for the best, varies his conduct as the pres- 
 ent occasion requires ; often quits a part, to save the 
 whole; and, by yielding in small matters, secures 
 considerable advantages. Thus Publicola, by giving 
 up' what the Romans had lately usurped, saved all 
 that was really their own ; and, at a time when they 
 found it difficult to defend their city , gained for them 
 the possession of the besiegers' camp. In effect, by 
 referring his cause to the arbitration of the enemy, 
 he gained his point, and, with that, all the advantages 
 he could have proposed to himself by a victory. For 
 Porsena put an end to the war, and left the Romans 
 all the provisions he had made for carrying it on, in-* 
 duced by that impression of their virtue and honour 
 which he had received from Publicola. 
 
 SPARTAN REPARTEES* 
 
 The boys were also taught to use sharp repartee, 
 seasoned with humour, and whate\er they said was 
 to be concise and pithy. For Lycurgus, as we have 
 observed, fixed but a small value on a considerable 
 quantity of his iron money ; but, on the contrary $ 
 the worth of speech was to consist in its' being com- 
 prised in a few plain words, pregnant with a great 
 deal of sense : and he contrived that by long si- 
 lence they mighty learn to be sententious and acute 
 in their replies. As debauchery often causes weak- 
 ness and sterility in the body, so the intemperance of 
 the tongue makes conversation empty and insipid. 
 King Agis^ therefore, when a certain Athenian laugh- 
 ed at th'0. Lacedsemonian short swords; and said, 
 " The jugglers would swallow them with ease upon 
 the stagQ," answered in his laconic way, " And yet 
 
PLUTARCH. 181 
 
 we can reach our enemies' hearts with them." In- 
 deed, to me there seems to be something in this con- 
 cise manner of speaking which immediately reaches 
 the object aimed at, and forcibly strikes the mind of 
 the hearer. Lycurgus himself was short and senten- 
 tious in his discourse, if we may judge by some of his 
 answers which are recorded ; that, for instance, con- 
 cerning the constitution. When one advised him 
 to establish a popular government in Lacedeemon, 
 " Go," said he, " and first make a trial of it in thy 
 own family. That again, concerning sacrifices to the 
 Deity, when he was asked why he appointed them so 
 trifling and of so little value, " That we might never 
 be in want," said he, " of something to offer him." 
 Once more, when they inquired of him what sort of 
 martial exercises he allowed of, he answered, "All, 
 except those in which you stretch* out your hands." 
 Several such like replies of his are said to be taken 
 from the letters which he wrote to his countrymen : 
 as to their question, " How shall we best guard a- 
 gainst the invasion of an enemy ?" "By continuing 
 poor, and not desiring in your possessions to be one 
 above another." And to the question, whether they 
 should enclose Sparta with walls, " That city is well 
 fortified, which has a wall of men instead of brick." 
 Whether these and some other letters ascribed to 
 him are genuine or not, is no easy matter to deter- 
 mine. However, that they hated long speeches, the 
 following apophthegms are a farther proof. King 
 Leonidas said to one who discoursed at an improper 
 time about affairs of some concern, " My friend, you 
 mm n m 
 
 * This was the form of demanding quarter in bat- 
 tle. - 
 
182 PLUTARCH. 
 
 should iiot talk so much to the purpose, of what it 
 is not to the purpose to talk of." Charilaus, the 
 nephew of Lycurgus, being asked why his uncle had 
 made so few laws, answered, " To men of few 
 words few laws are sufficient. Some people finding 
 fault with Hecataeus the sophist, because, when ad- 
 mitted to one of the public repasts, he said nothing 
 all the time, Archidamidas replied, " He that knows 
 how to speak, knows also wfien to speak." 
 
 The manner of their repartees, which, as I said, 
 were seasoned with humour, may be gathered from 
 these instances. When a troublesome fellow was 
 pestering Demaratus with impertinent questions, and 
 who in particular several times repeated, " Who is 
 the best man in Sparta ?" He answered, " He that is 
 least like you." To some who were commending 
 the Eleans, for managing the Olympic games with 
 so much justice and propriety, Agis said, " What 
 great matter is it, if the Eleans do justice once in five 
 years ?" When a stranger was professing his regard 
 for Theopompus, and saying that his own country- 
 men called him Pliilolacon (a lover of the Lacedae- 
 monians,) the king answered him, " My good friend, 
 it were much better, if they called you Philopolites' ' 
 (a lover of your own countrymen.) Plistonax, the 
 son of Pausanias, replied to an orator of Athens, who 
 said the Lacedaemonians had no learning, t£ True, 
 for we are the only people of Greece that have learn- 
 ed no ill of you." To one who asked what number 
 of men there was in Sparta, Archidamidas said, 
 " Enough to keep bad men at a distance." 
 
 Even when they indulged a vein of pleasantry,* 
 one might perceive that they would not use one 
 unnecessary word, nor let an expression escape them 
 
PLUTARCH. 183 
 
 that had not some sense worth attending to. For 
 one being asked to go and hear a person who imitat- 
 ed the nightingale to perfection, answered, " I have 
 heard the nightingale herself." Another said, upon 
 reading this epitaph, 
 
 n 
 Victims of Mars, at Selinus they fell, 
 Who quench 'd the rage of tyranny, — ■ 
 
 cc And they deserved to fall, for, instead of quench- 
 ing it, they should have let it burn out." A young 
 man answered one that promised him some game 
 codes that would stand their death, " Give me those 
 that will be the death of others." Another seeing 
 some people carried into the country in litters, said, 
 " May I never sit in any place where I cannot rise 
 before the aged I" This was the manner of their 
 apophthegms : so that it has been justly enough ob- 
 served that the term lokonizein (to act the Lacedse- 
 monian) is to be referred rather to the exercises of 
 the mind than those of the body. 
 
 SUPERSTITION THE PARENT OF ATHEISM. 
 
 The atheist believes there are no gods ; the super- 
 stitious would have none, but is a believer against his 
 will, and would be an infidel if he durst ; and be as 
 glad to ease himself of the burden of his fear, as 
 Tantalus would be to slip his head from under the 
 great stone that hangs over him, and would bless the 
 condition of the atheist, as absolute freedom, com- 
 pared with his own. Indeed, the superstitious is an 
 atheist in his heart ; but i§ too much a coward to 
 think as he is inclined. Moreover, atheism hath no 
 hand at all in superstition ; but superstition, as it-gave 
 
184 PXUTAKCH. 
 
 / 
 
 atheism its first birth, so it serves it ever since, it bet- 
 ing the best apology it can make for itself ; which y 
 although it be neither a good nor a fair one, yet is it 
 the most specious and colourable. For men were 
 not at first made atheists by any fault they found in 
 the heavens, or stars, or seasons of the year ; or in 
 those revolutions or motions of the sun about the 
 earth that make the day and night ; nor yet by ob- 
 serving any mistake or disorder, either in the breed- 
 ing of animals, or the production of fruits. No, it 
 was the uncouth actions and ridiculous and senseless 
 passions of superstition, her canting words, her fool- 
 ish gestures, her charms, her magic, her freakish pro- 
 cessions, her tabourings, her foul expiations, her 
 vile methods of purgation, and her barbarous and in- 
 human penances, and bemirings of the temples ; it 
 was these, I say, that gave occasion to many to af- 
 firm, it would be far happier there were no gods at 
 all, than such as are pleased and delighted with such 
 fantastical toys, and that thus abuse their votaries, 
 and are incensed and pacified with trifles. Had it 
 not been much better for the so much famed Gauls 
 and Scythians, that they had neither thought, nor 
 imagined, nor heard any thing of their gods, than to 
 have believed them such as would be pleased with 
 the blood of human sacrifices ; and that accounted 
 such for the most complete and meritorious of expi- 
 ations ? How much better had it been for the Car- 
 thaginians, if they had had either a Critias, or a Di- 
 agoras, for the first law maker, that so they might 
 have believed neither god nor spirits, than to make 
 such offerings to Saturn as they made ? not such as 
 Empedocles speaks of, where he thus touches the 
 sacrifices of beasts : 
 
PLUTARCH, 185 
 
 The sire his child, when in strange form he's caught, 
 First praised, then killed it for his god : great sot ! 
 m m m m m m 
 
 But they knowingly and wittingly themselves devoted 
 their own children ; and they that had none of their 
 own bought some poor people's, and then sacrificed 
 them like lambs or pigeons, the poor mother standing 
 by the while, without either a sigh or a tear : and if 
 by chance she fetched a sigh, or let fall a tear, she 
 lost the price of her child, and it was nevertheless 
 sacrificed. All the places round the image were in 
 the mean time filled with the noise of hautboys and 
 tabors, to drown the poor infants' crying. Suppose 
 we now the typhons and giants should depose the 
 gods, and make themselves masters of mankind, what 
 sort of sacrifices, think you, would they expect ? or 
 what other expiations would they require ? King 
 Xerxes's queen, Amestris, buried twelve men alive, 
 as a sacrifice to Pluto, to prolong her own life ; and 
 yet Pluto saith, this god is called in Greek Hades, 
 because he is placid, wise, and wealthy ; and retains 
 the souls of men by persuasion and oratory. That 
 great naturalist Xenophanes, seeing the Egyptians 
 beating their breasts, and lamenting at the solemn 
 times of their devotions, gave them this pertinent 
 and seasonable admonition — " If they are gods," 
 said he, li don't cry for them : and if they are men, 
 don't sacrifice to them." There is certainly no in- 
 firmity belonging to us, that either contains such a 
 multiplicity of errors and fond passions, or that con- 
 sists of such incongruous and incoherent opinions, as 
 this of superstition doth. It behoves us therefore to 
 do our utmost to escape it ; but withal, we must see 
 
186 PLUTARCH. 
 
 we do it safely and prudently ; and not run rashly 
 and inconsiderately, as people do from the incursions 
 of robbers, or from fire, and fall into bewildered and 
 untrodden paths full of pits and precipices. For so 
 some, while they would avoid superstition, leap over 
 the golden mean of true piety, into the harsh and 
 coarse extreme of atheism. 
 
 TIMOLEON AND PAULTJS ^EMIJLIUS COMPARED. 
 
 If we consider these two great men as history has 
 represented them, we shall find no striking difference 
 between them in the comparison. Both carried on 
 wars with very respectable enemies ; the one with the 
 Macedonians, the other with the Carthaginians ; and 
 both with extraordinary success. One of them con- 
 quered Macedon, and crushed the house of Antigonus ? 
 which had flourished in a succession of seven kings ; 
 the other expelled tyranny out of Sicily, and restored 
 that island to its ancient liberty. It may be in favour 
 of /Emilius, that he had to do with Perseus when in 
 his full strength, and when he had beaten the Romans; 
 and Timoleon with Dionysius, when reduced to very 
 desperate circumstances : as, on the other, hand, it 
 may be observed to the advantage of Timoleon, that 
 he subdued many tyrants, and defeated a great army 
 of Carthaginians, with such forces as he happened to 
 pick up, who were not veteran and experienced 
 troops like those of iEmilius, but mercenaries and 
 undisciplined men, who had been accustomed to 
 fight only at their own pleasure. For equal exploits., 
 with unequal means and preparations, reflect the 
 greater glory on the general who performs them. 
 
 Both paid a strict regard to justice and integrity in 
 their employments. zEmilius was prepared from the 
 
first to behave so, by the laws and manners of his 
 country ; but Timoleon's probity was owing entirely 
 to himself. A proof of this is, that in the time of 
 ^Emilius good order universally prevailed among the 
 Romans, through a spirit of obedience to their laws 
 and usages, and a reverence of their fellow citizens ; 
 whereas, not one of the Grecian generals who com- 
 manded in Sicily kept himself uncorrupted, except 
 Dion : and many entertained a jealousy that even he 
 affected monarchy, and dreamed of setting up such a 
 regal authority as that in Lacedsemon. Timseus in- 
 forms us, that the Syracusans sent away Gylippus 
 loaded with infamy for his insatiable avarice and ra- 
 pacity, while he had the command ; and many writers 
 give account of the misdemeanours and breach of 
 articles which Pharax the Spartan, and Calippus the 
 Athenian, were guilty of, in hopes of gaining the 
 sovereignty of Sicily. But what were these men, and 
 on what power did they build such hopes ? Pharax 
 was a follower of Dionysius, who was already ex- 
 pelled, and Calippus was an officer in the foreign 
 troops in the service of Dion. But Timoleon was 
 sent to be general of the Syracusans, at their earnest 
 request ; he had not an army to provide, but found 
 one ready formed, which cheerfully obeyed his or- 
 ders ; and yet he employed this power for no other 
 end than the destruction of their oppressive masters. 
 Yet again, it was to be admired in ^Emiiius, that, 
 though he subdued so opulent a kingdom, he did not 
 add one drachma to his substance. He would not 
 touch, nor even look upon the money himself, though 
 lie gave many liberal gifts to others. I do not, how- 
 ever, blame Timoleon for accepting of a handsome 
 house and lands : for it is no disgrace to take some- 
 
188 PLUTARCfl. 
 
 thing out of so much, but to take nothing at all is 
 better ; and that is .the most consummate virtue 
 which shows that it is above pecuniary considera- 
 tions, even when it has the best claim to them. 
 
 As some bodies are able to bear heat, and others 
 cold, but those are the strongest which are equally fit 
 to endure either ; so the vigour and firmness of those 
 minds are the greatest which are neither elated by 
 prosperity, nor broken by adversity. And in this 
 respect, JEmilius appears to have been superior ; for, 
 in the great and severe misfortune of the loss of his 
 sons, he kept up the same dignity of carriage as in 
 the midst of the happiest success. But Timoleon, 
 when he had acted as a patriot should, with regard to 
 his brother, did not let his reason support him 
 against his grief ; but becoming a prey to sorrow and 
 remorse, for the space of twenty years he could not 
 so much as look upon the place where the public 
 business was transacted, much less take a part in it. 
 A man should, indeed, be afraid and ashamed of 
 what is really shameful ; but to shrink under every 
 reflection upon his character, though it speaks a 
 delicacy of temper, has nothing in it of true great- 
 ness of mind. 
 
 VIRTUE AND VICE. 
 
 It is apparent that clothes do not make a man warm 
 by warming him themselves, or by imparting heat to 
 him (for every garment is of itself cold, which is the 
 reason that we see those that are very hot, and in a 
 fever, often shifting and changing one thing for ano- 
 ther) ; but that heat which a man exhales out of 
 himself, the garment, lying close to his body, keeps 
 together and contracts, and when it hath driven it 
 
PLUTARCH. 189 
 
 inward, it will not suffer it again to dissipate. This 
 is the very case of external affairs too, and this it is 
 that cheats vulgar heads, by making them think that 
 if they might but inclose themselves in great houses, 
 and keep together abundance of slaves and riches, 
 they might then live to their own minds. But an 
 agreeable and gay life is not to be found without us ; 
 on the contrary, it is man, that, out of his own tem- 
 per, as out of a spring, adds pleasure and gaiety to 
 the things about him. 
 
 The house looks merrier when the fire burns ; 
 
 and wealth is the more agreeable, and fame and 
 power the more resplendent, when they have the joy 
 of the mind to accompany them. Since we see how 
 that, through a mild and tame disposition, men can 
 bear poverty, banishment, and old age, easily and 
 sweetly. For as odours perfume thread-bare coats 
 and poor rags, while prince Anchises's ulcer sent forth 
 a loathsome purulence, 
 
 When the foul tent dript on his purple robe, 
 
 even so every state and condition of life, if accom- 
 panied with virtue, is undisturbed and delightful. 
 But when vice is intermixed, it renders even the 
 things that appear splendid, sumptuous and magni- 
 ficent, most distasteful, nauseous, and unacceptable, 
 to the possessors. 
 
 This man's thought happy in the market place, 
 But when he opens his doors, hell is his case : 
 
 The woman rules all, commands, and brawls. Any 
 one, however, may without any great difficulty get 
 
190 PLUTARCH. 
 
 rid of a wicked cross-grained wife, if he be but a man, 
 and not a slave. But a man cannot write a bill of 
 divorce to his vice, and thereby free himself from 
 further trouble, and procure his own repose, by liv- 
 ing apart ; but it still cohabits with him, and dwells 
 in his very bowels, and cleaves to him both by night 
 and by day. 
 
 It burns without a torch, makes green old age, 
 being, through its vain glory, a burthensome fellow- 
 traveller, and through its voracity a chargeable table- 
 companion, and a troublesome bed-fellow, by break- 
 ing and spoiling one's sleep at night with cares, 
 anxieties, and surmises. For when they do sleep, 
 their body is indeed at rest and quiet, but their ,mind is, 
 through superstition, in terrors, dreams, and frights. 
 
 When in my slumbers, sorrows fill me ; 
 Then frightful dreams and visions kill me ; 
 
 saith one : just thus envy, fear, anger, and lust, 
 affect us. For by day-time our vice, by looking 
 abroad and fashioning herself to the manners of 
 others, grows shamefaced, and finds herself obliged to 
 mask her own disorders, and does not yield herself 
 up wholly to her appetites, but oftentimes resists and 
 struggles with them. But in times of sleep, when it 
 escapes both the opinions of men and the laws, and 
 is at the remotest distance from awe and respect, it 
 stirs every desire, and raises up its malignity and 
 lewdness. For it attempts, as Plato speaks, the 
 embraces of a mother ; it purveys unlawful meats, 
 and refrains from no sort of action, enjoying villany, 
 as far as it i3 practicable, in shades and phantoms, 
 that end in no real pleasure or accomplishment of 
 
PLUTARCH. 191 
 
 desire ; but have only power to stir up and enrage 
 disorders and distempers. 
 
 Where then is the pleasure of vice, if there be no- 
 where to be found either freedom from care, or ex- 
 emption from trouble, or satisfaction, or undisturbed- 
 ness, or repose ? A sound complexion and good 
 health of body gives, indeed, both place and birth 
 to the pleasures of the flesh ; but there cannot be 
 engendered a gaiety and cheerfulness in the mind, 
 unless undauntedness, assurance, or an immovable 
 serenity, be the foundation. Nay, if some hope or 
 satisfaction should simper a little, this would be soon 
 puddled or disturbed, by some sudden eruption of 
 care, like a smooth sea by a rock. Heap up gold, 
 gather together silver, raise up walks, iill your house 
 with slaves, and the town with debtors ; if you do 
 not appease the disorders of your own mind, and 
 stint vour insatiable desire, and deliver yourself from 
 fears and cares, you do but rack wine for a man in a 
 fever, and administer honey to a man disturbed with 
 choler, and prepare meat and good cheer for people 
 that have the flux or gripes, who can neither retain 
 it, nor be strengthened by it, but are over and above 
 spoiled by it. Do you not see how such persons 
 loathe, spit Gut, and refuse, the finest and most costly 
 meats, though they be proffered and forced upon 
 them ? and how again, when their complexion 
 alters, and good spirits, sweet blood, and a con- 
 natural heat is engendered, they get up, and gladly 
 and willingly eat brown bread, cheese, and cresses ? 
 Such a disposition as this is it that reason works in 
 the mind : and you will have sufficiency, if you will 
 but learn what a notable and generous mind is. 
 You will live luxuriously in poverty, and be a prince ; 
 

 192 PLUTARCH. 
 
 and you will be as much in love with a vacant and 
 private life as with that of a general or king. If 
 you once apply to philosophy, you will never live 
 without pleasure, but you will learn to be every 
 where pleased, and with every thing. You will be 
 pleased with wealth, for making you beneficial to 
 many ; and with poverty, for not having much to 
 care for ; with fame, for being honoured ; and with 
 obscurity, for being unenvied. 
 
 THE END, 
 
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