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O* ■’ 
 
PLUTARCH’S LIVES 
 
 TRANSLATED 
 
 ifrnni tip dDriginiil #mk, 
 
 WITH 
 
 NOTES, HISTORICAL AND CRITICAL, 
 
 AND 
 
 A LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN LANGHORNE, M.D., 
 
 AND 
 
 WILLIAM LANGHORNE, M.A. 
 
 Gratefully corrected, atftt jmntetr from t£e last Hontroix IBtrlttoii 
 
 IN FOUR VOLUMES 
 
 YOL. I. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 HARPER <fc BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 
 329 & 331 PEARL STREET, 
 
 FRANKLIN SQUARE. 
 
 18 78 . 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 * » 
 
 . 
 
 
 y * 
 
 
 
 
 
TO T11E RIGHT HONOURABLE 
 
 
 f>74 
 
 'WZ 
 
 V<\ 
 
 LORD FOLKESTONE. 
 
 MY LORD, 
 
 The style and genius of dedications, in general, 
 have neither done honour to the patron nor to the 
 author. Sensible of this, we intended to have 
 published a 'work, which has been the labour of 
 years, without the usual mode of soliciting pro¬ 
 tection. An accident has brought us into the 
 number of dedicators. Had not you accompanied 
 your noble father to our humble retreat, we should 
 still have been unacquainted with your growing 
 virtues,—your extraordinary erudition, and per¬ 
 fect knowledge of the Greek language and learn¬ 
 ing; and Plutarch would have remained as he did 
 in his retirement at Chaeronea, where he sought 
 no patronage but in the bosom of philosophy. 
 
 Accept, my Lord, this honest token of respect. 
 from men, who, equally independent and unam 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 bitious, wish only for the countenance of genius 
 and friendship. Praise, my Lord, is the usual 
 language of dedications: But will our praise be 
 of value to you?—Will any praise be of value 
 to you, but that of your own heart? Follow the 
 example of the Earl of Radnor, your illustrious 
 father. Like him maintain that temperate spirit 
 of policy, which consults the dignity of govern¬ 
 ment, while it supports the liberty of the subject. 
 But we put into your hands the best of political 
 preceptors,—a preceptor who trained to virtue 
 the greatest monarch upon earth ; and, by giving 
 happiness to the world, enjoyed a pleasure some¬ 
 thing like that of the Benevolent Being who 
 created it. We are, My Lord, 
 
 Your Lordship ? s 
 Most obedient, and 
 Very humble Servants, 
 
 J. & W. LANGHORNE 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 OF 
 
 THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 Hag* 
 
 Plutuieh . .. .. 1 
 
 Theseus. 29 
 
 Romulus. 57 
 
 Romulus and Theseus compared. 91 
 
 Lycurgus. 96 
 
 Numa. 132 
 
 .Numa and Lycurgus compared. 161 
 
 Solon. 167 
 
 Publicola. 200 
 
 Solon and Publicola compared.. . 221 
 
 Themistocles. 225* 
 
 Camillus. 258 
 
 Pericles. 296 
 
 Fabius Maximus. 334 
 
 Pericles and Fabius Maximus compared. 361 
 
 Alcibiades . .. 364 
 
 Oaius Marcius Coriolanus.403 
 
 Alcibiades and Coriolanus compared. 436 
 
Y ' ) 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 If the merit of a work may be estimated from 
 the universality of its reception, Plutarch’s Lives 
 have a claim to the first honours of literature. No 
 book has been more generally sought after, or read 
 with greater avidity. It was one of the first that 
 were brought out of the retreats of the learned, and 
 translated into the modern languages. Amiot, 
 Abbe of Bellozane, published a French translation 
 of it in the reign of Henry II.; and from that work 
 it was translated into English, in the time of queen 
 Elizabeth. 
 
 It is said by those who are not willing to allow 
 Shakspeare much learning, that he availed him¬ 
 self of the last-mentioned translation; but they 
 seem to forget, that, in order to support their argu¬ 
 ments of this kind, it is necessary for them to prove 
 that Plato, too, was translated into English at the 
 same time; for the celebrated soliloquy, “To be, 
 or not to be,” is taken, almost verbatim, from that 
 philosopher; yet we have never found that Plato 
 was translated in those times. 
 
 Amiot was a man of great industry and conside¬ 
 rable learning. He sought diligently in the libra¬ 
 ries of Rome and Venice for those Lives of Plutarch 
 which are lost; and though his search was unsuc¬ 
 cessful, it had this good effect, that, by meeting 
 with a variety of manuscripts, and comparing them 
 with the printed copies, he was enabled, in many 
 
VIII 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 places, to rectify the text. This was a very essen¬ 
 tial circumstance; for few ancient writers had 
 suffered more than Plutarch from the carelessness 
 of printers and transcribers; and, with all his 
 merit, it was his fate, for a long time, to find no 
 able restorer. The schoolmen despised his Gieek, 
 because it had not the purity of Xenophon, nor the 
 Attic terseness of Aristophanes; ana, on that ac¬ 
 count, very unreasonably bestowed their labours 
 on those that wanted them less. Amiot’s transla¬ 
 tion was published in the year 1558; but no re¬ 
 putable edition of the Greek text of Plutarch 
 appeared till that of Paris in 1624. The above- 
 mentioned translation, however, though drawn 
 from an imperfect text, passed through many edi¬ 
 tions, and was still read, till Dacier, under better 
 auspices, and in better times, attempted a new one, 
 which he executed with great elegance, and tole¬ 
 rable accuracy. The text he followed was not so 
 correct as might have been wished; for the London 
 edition of Plutarch was not then published. How¬ 
 ever, the French language being at that time in 
 great perfection, and the fashionable language of 
 almost every court in Europe, Dacier’s translation 
 came not only into the libraries, but into the hands 
 of men. Plutarch was universally read, and no 
 book in those times had a more extensive sale, or 
 went through a greater number of impressions. 
 The translator had, indeed, acquitted himself in 
 one respect with great happiness. His book was 
 not found to be French Greek. He had carefully 
 followed that rule, which no translator ought ever 
 to lose sight of, the great rule of humouring the 
 genius, and maintaining the structure of his.own 
 language. For this purpose he frequently broke 
 the long and embarrassed periods of the Greek; 
 and by dividing and shortening them in his transla- 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 tion, he gave them greater perspicuity, and a more 
 easy movement. Yet still he was faithful to his 
 original; and where he did not mistake him, 
 which, indeed, he seldom did, conveyed his ideas 
 with clearness, though not without verbosity. His 
 translation had another distinguished advantage. 
 He enriched it with a variety of explanatory notes. 
 There are so many readers who have no competent 
 acquaintance with the customs of antiquity, the 
 laws of the ancient states, the ceremonies of their 
 religion, and the remoter and minuter parts of their 
 history and genealogy, that to have an account of 
 these matters ever before the eye, and to travel 
 with a guide who is ready to describe to us every 
 object w r e are unacquainted with, is a privilege 
 equally convenient and agreeable. But here the 
 annotator ought to have stopped. Satisfied with 
 removing the difficulties usually arising in the cir¬ 
 cumstances above-mentioned, he should not have 
 swelled his pages with idle declamations on trite 
 morals, and obvious sentiments. Amiot’s margins, 
 indeed, are every where crowded with such. In 
 those times they followed the method of the old 
 divines, which was to make practical improve¬ 
 ments of every matter; but it is somewhat strange 
 that Dacier, who w T rote in a more enlightened age, 
 should fall into that beaten track of insipid moraliz¬ 
 ing, and be at pains to say wdiat every one must 
 know. Perhaps, as the commentator of Plutarch, 
 he considered himself as a kind of travelling com¬ 
 panion to the reader; and, agreeably to the man¬ 
 ners of his country, he meant to show his politeness 
 by never holding his peace. The apology ne makes 
 for deducing and detailing these flat precepts, is 
 the view of instructing younger minds. He had 
 not philosophy enough to consider, that to antici¬ 
 pate the conclusions of such minds, in their pursuit 
 
 VOL. i. n 
 
X 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 of history and characters, is to prevent their proper 
 effect. When examples are placed before them, 
 they will not fail to make right inferences; but if 
 those are made for them, the didactic air of infor¬ 
 mation destroys their influence. 
 
 After the old English translation of Plutarch, 
 which was professedly taken from Amiot’s French, 
 no other appeared till the time of Dryden. That 
 great man, who is never to be mentioned without 
 pity and admiration, was prevailed upon, by his 
 necessities, to head a company of translators, and 
 to lend the sanction of his glorious name to a trans¬ 
 lation of Plutarch, written, as he himself acknow¬ 
 ledges, by almost as many hands as there were 
 lives. That this motley work was full of errors, 
 inequalities, and inconsistencies, is not in the least 
 to be wondered at. Of such a variety of transla¬ 
 tors, it would have been very singularif some had 
 not failed in learning, and some in language. The 
 truth is, that the greatest part of them were defi¬ 
 cient in both. Indeed, their task was not easy. 
 To translate Plutarch, under any circumstances, 
 would require no ordinary skill in the language and 
 antiquities of Greece; but to attempt it whilst the 
 text was in a depraved state; unsettled and unrec¬ 
 tified ; abounding with errors, misnomers, and 
 transpositions; this required much greater abilities 
 than fell to the lot of that body of translators in 
 general. It appears, however, from the execution 
 of their undertaking, that they gave themselves no 
 great concern about the difficulties that attended 
 it. Some few blundered at the Greek; some drew 
 from the Scholiast’s Latin; and others, more hum¬ 
 ble, trod scrupulously in the paces of Amiot. Thus 
 copying the idioms of different languages, they pro¬ 
 ceeded like the workmen at Babel, and fell into a 
 confusion of tongues, while they attempted to 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Xl' 
 
 speak the same. But the diversities of style were 
 not the greatest faults of this strange translation. 
 It was full of the grossest errors. Ignorance on the 
 one hand, and hastiness or negligence on the other, 
 had filled it with absurdities in every life, and in¬ 
 accuracies in almost every page. The language, 
 in general, was insupportably tame, tedious, and 
 embarrassed. The periods had no harmony; the 
 phraseology had no elegance, no spirit, no precision. 
 
 Yet this "is the last translation of Plutarch’s Lives 
 that has appeared in the English language, and the 
 only one that is now read. 
 
 It must be owned, that when Dacier’s translation 
 came abroad, the proprietor of Dryd era’s copy en¬ 
 deavoured to repair it. But how was this done? 
 Not by the application of learned men, who might 
 have rectified the errors by consulting the original, 
 but by a mean recourse to the labours of Dacier. 
 Where the French translator had diit'ered from the 
 English, the opinions of the latter were religiously 
 given up; and sometimes a period, and sometimes 
 a page, were translated anew from Dacier; while, 
 in due compliment to him, the idiom of his lan¬ 
 guage, and every tour d'expression, were most scru¬ 
 pulously preserved. Nay, the editors of that edi¬ 
 tion, which was published in 1727, did more. 
 They not only paid Dacier the compliment of 
 mixing his French with their English, but while 
 they borrowed his notes, they adopted even the 
 most frivolous and superfluous comments that 
 escaped his pen. 
 
 Thus the English Plutarch’s Lives, at first so 
 heterogeneous and .absurd,received but little benefit 
 from this whimsical reparation. Dacier’s best 
 notes were, indeed, of some value; but the patch- 
 work alterations the editors had drawn from his 
 translation, made their book appear still more like 
 
xii 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 Otway’s Old Woman, whose gown >f many cvr* 
 lours spoke 
 
 -variety of wretchedness. 
 
 This translation continued in the same form up* 
 wards of thirty years. But in the year 1758, the 
 proprietor engaged a gentleman of abilities, very 
 different from those who had formerly been em¬ 
 ployed, to give it a second purgation. He suc¬ 
 ceeded as well as it was possible for any man of 
 the best judgment and learning to succeed, in an 
 attempt of that nature; that is to say, he rectified 
 a multitude of errors, and in many places endea¬ 
 voured to mend the miserable language. Two of 
 the Lives he translated anew; and this he executed 
 in such a manner, that, had he done the whole, the 
 present translators would never have thought of 
 the undertaking. But two Lives out of fifty made 
 a very small part of this great w r ork; and though 
 he rectified many errors in the old translation, yet, 
 where almost every thing was error, it is no won¬ 
 der if many escaped him. This was indeed the 
 case. In the course of our Notes, we had remarked 
 a great number; but, apprehensive that such a con¬ 
 tinual attention to the faults of a former translation 
 might appear invidious, we expunged the greatest 
 part of the remarks, and suffered such only to re¬ 
 main as might testify the propriety of our present 
 undertaking. Besides, though the ingenious reviser 
 of the edition of 1758 might repair the language 
 where it was most palpably deficient, it was im¬ 
 possible for him to alter the cast and complexion 
 of the whole. It w ould still retain its inequalities, 
 its tameness, and heavy march; its mixture of 
 idioms, and the irksome train of far-connected pe¬ 
 riods. These it still retains; and, after all the ope 
 rations it has gone through, remains 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 xiii 
 
 Like some patch’d dog-hole, eked with ends of wall! 
 
 In tins view of things the necessity of a new trans¬ 
 lation is obvious; and the hazard does not appear 
 to he great. With such competitors for the public 
 favour, the contest has neither glory nor danger 
 attending it. But the labour and attention neces¬ 
 sary, as well to secure as to obtain that favour, nei¬ 
 ther are nor ought to be less; and with whatever 
 success the present translators may he thought to 
 have executed their undertaking, they will always 
 at least have the merit of a diligent desire to dis¬ 
 charge this public duty faithfully. 
 
 Where the text of Plutarch appeared to them 
 erroneous, they have spared no pains, and neglected 
 no means in their power, to rectify it. 
 
 Sensible that the great art of a translator is to 
 prevent the peculiarities of his author’s language 
 from stealing into his own, they have been particu¬ 
 larly attentive to this point, and have generally 
 endeavoured to keep their English unmixed with 
 Greek. At the same time, it must be observed, 
 that there is frequently a great similarity in the 
 structure of the two languages; yet that resem¬ 
 blance, in some instances, makes it more necessary 
 to guard against it on the whole. This care is of 
 the greater consequence, because Plutarch’s Lives 
 generally pass through the hands of young people, 
 who ought to read their own language in its native 
 purity, unmixed and untainted with the idioms of 
 different tongues. For their sakes, too, as well as 
 for the sake of readers of a different class, we have 
 omitted some passages in the text, and have only 
 signified the omission by asterisms. Some, per¬ 
 haps, may censure us for taking too great a liberty 
 with our author in this circumstance. However, 
 we must beg leave, in that instance, to abide by our 
 
 2 
 
xiv 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 own opinion; and sure we are, that we should have 
 censured no translator for the same. Could every 
 thing of that kind have been omitted, we should 
 have been still less dissatisfied; hut sometimes the 
 chain of the narrative would not admit of it, and 
 the disagreeable parts were to be got over with as 
 much decency as possible. 
 
 Ill the descriptions of battles, camps, and sieges, 
 it is more than probable that we may sometimes be 
 mistaken in the military terms. We have endea¬ 
 voured, however, to be as accurate in this respect as 
 possible, and to acquaint ourselves with this kind 
 ol knowledge as well as our situations would per¬ 
 mit; but we will not promise the reader that we 
 have always succeeded. Where something seemed 
 to have fallen out of the text, or where the ellipsis 
 was too violent for the forms of our language, we 
 have not scrupled to maintain the tenor of the nar¬ 
 rative, or the chain of reason, by such little inser¬ 
 tions as appeared to be necessary for the purpose. 
 These short insertions we at first put between 
 hooks; but as that deformed the page, without an¬ 
 swering any material purpose, we soon rejected it. 
 
 Such are the liberties we have taken with Plu¬ 
 tarch ; and the learned, we flatter ourselves, will 
 not think them too great. Yet there is one more, 
 which, if we could have presumed upon it, would 
 have made his book infinitely more uniform and 
 agreeable. We often wished to throw out of the 
 text into the notes those tedious and digressive com¬ 
 ments that spoil the beauty and order of his narra¬ 
 tive, mortify the expectation, frequently when it is 
 most essentially interested; and destroy the natural 
 influence of his story, by turning the attention into 
 a different channel. What, for instance, can be 
 more irksome and impertinent, than a long disser 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 XT 
 
 tation on a point of natural philosophy starting up 
 at the very crisis of some important action? Every 
 reader of Plutarch must have felt the pain of these 
 unseasonable digressions; but we could not, upon 
 our own pleasure or authority, remove them. 
 
 In the Notes we have prosecuted these several 
 intentions. We have endeavoured to bring the 
 English reader acquainted with the Greek and 
 Roman antiquities; where Plutarch had omitted 
 any thing remarkable in tbe Lives, to supply it 
 from other authors, and to make his book in some 
 measure a general history of the periods under his 
 pen. In tfie Notes, too, we have assigned reasons 
 for it, where we have differed from the former 
 translators. 
 
 This part of our work is neither wholly bor¬ 
 rowed, nor altogether original. Where Dacier or 
 other annotators offered us any thing to the pur¬ 
 pose, we have not scrupled to make use of it; and, 
 to avoid the endless trouble of citations, we make 
 this acknowledgment once for all. The number 
 of original Notes the learned reader will find to be 
 very considerable: but there are not so many notes 
 of any kind in the latter part of the work; because 
 the manners and customs, the religious ceremonies, 
 laws, state-offices, and forms of government, among 
 the ancients, being explained in the first Lives, 
 much did not remain for the business of infor¬ 
 mation. 
 
 Four of Plutarch’s Parallels are supposed to be 
 lost; those of Themistocles and Camillus; Pyrrhus 
 and Marius; Phocion and Cato; Alexander and 
 Caesar. These Dacier supplies by others of his 
 own composition, but so different from those of 
 Plutarch, that they have little right to be incorpo¬ 
 rated w ith his works. 
 
XVI 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The necessary Chronological Tables, together 
 with Tables of*Money, Weights, and Measures, 
 and a copious Index, have been provided for this 
 translation: of which we may truly say, that it 
 ■wants no other advantages than such as the trans¬ 
 lators had not power to give. 
 

 LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 AS, hi the progress of life, we first pass through scenes oi 
 innocence, peace and fancy, and afterwards encounter the 
 vices and disorders of society; so we shall here amuse our¬ 
 selves awhile in the peaceful solitude of the philosopher, be¬ 
 fore we proceed to those more animated, but less pleasing ob¬ 
 jects he describes. 
 
 Nor will the view of a philosopher’s life be less instructive 
 than his labours. If the latter teach us how great vices, ac¬ 
 companied with great abilities, may tend to the ruin of a 
 state;—if they inform us how ambition, attended with magna¬ 
 nimity, how avarice, directed by political sagacity, how envy 
 and revenge, armed with personal valour and popular support, 
 will destroy the most sacred establishments, and break through 
 every barrier of human repose and safety; the former will 
 convince us that equanimity is more desirable than the high¬ 
 est privileges of mind, and that the most distinguished situa¬ 
 tions in life, are ess to be envied than those quiet allotments, 
 where science is the support of virtue. 
 
 Pindar and Epaminondas had, long before Plutarch’s time, 
 ledeemed, in some measure, the credit of Boeotia, and rescued 
 the inhabitants of that country from the proverbial imputation 
 of stupidity. When Plutarch appeared, he confirmed the re¬ 
 putation it had recovered. He showed that genius is not the 
 growth of any particular soil, and that its cultivation requires 
 no peculiar qualities of climate. 
 
 Chaeronea, a town in Boeotia, between Phocis and Attica, 
 had the honour to give him birth. This place was remark 
 able for nothing but the tameness and servility of its inhabi 
 tants, whom Antony’s soldiers made beasts of burden, and 
 obliged to carry their corn upon their shoulders to the coast 
 As it lay between two seas, and was partly shut up by moun- 
 + he air of course was heavy, and truly Boeotian. Bui 
 l. i.—c 2* 
 
LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 situations as little favoured by nature as Chaeronea, have giv 
 en birth to the greatest men; of which the celebrated Locke, 
 and many others, are instances. 
 
 Plutarch himself acknowledges the stupidity of the Boeo 
 tians in general; but he imputes it rather to their diet than to 
 their air; for, in his Treatise on Animal Food, he intimates 
 that a gross indulgence in that article, which was usual with 
 his countrymen, contributes greatly to obscure the intellectu¬ 
 al faculties. 
 
 It is not easy to ascertain in what year he was born. Ruauld 
 places it about the middle of the reign of Claudius; others, 
 towards the end of it. The following circumstance is the only 
 foundation they have for their conjectures. 
 
 Plutarch says, that he studied philosophy under Ammonius, 
 at Delphi, when Nero made his progress into Greece. This, 
 we know, was in the twelfth year of that emperor’s reign, in 
 the consulship of Paulinus Suetonius and Pontius Telesinus, 
 the second year of the Olympiad 211, and the sixty-sixth ot 
 the Christian era. Dacier observes, that Plutarch must have 
 been seventeen or eighteen at least, when lie was engaged in 
 the abstruse studies of philosophy; and he, therefore, fixes his 
 birth about five or six years before the death of Claudius. 
 This, however, is bare supposition; and that, in our opinion, 
 not of the most probable kind. The youth of Greece studied 
 under the philosophers very early; for their works, with those 
 of the poets and rhetoricians, formed their chief course of dis¬ 
 cipline. 
 
 But to determine whether he was born under the reign ot 
 Claudius, or in the early part of Nero’s reign (which we the 
 rather believe, as he says himself that he was very young 
 when Nero entered Greece;) to make it clearly understood", 
 whether he studied at Delphi at ten, or at eighteen years oi 
 age, is of much less consequence, than it is to know by what 
 means, and under what auspices, he acquired that humane and 
 rational philosophy which is distinguished in his works. 
 
 Ammonius was his preceptor; but of him we know little 
 more than what his scholar has accidentally let fall concerning 
 him. He mentions a singular instance of his manner of cor¬ 
 recting his pupils:—“ Our master,” says he, “ having one 
 day observed that we had indulged ourselves too luxuriously 
 at dinner, at his afternoon lecture, ordered his freed-man to 
 give his own son the discipline of the whip, in our presence; 
 signifying, at the same time, that he suffered this punishment 
 because he could not eat his victuals without sauce. The phi 
 losopher all the while had his eye upon us, and we knew well 
 for whom this example of punishment was intended.” This 
 circumstance shows, at least, that Ammonius was not of the 
 
LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 3 
 
 school of Epicurus. The severity of his discipline, indeed; 
 seems rather of the Stoic cast; but it is most probable, that he 
 belonged to the Academicians; for their schools, at that time, 
 had ihe greatest reputation in Greece. 
 
 It was a happy circumstance in the discipline of those 
 schools, that tile parent only had the power of corporal pun 
 ishment: the rod and the ferula were snatched from the hand 
 of the petty tyrant; his office alone was to inform the mind, 
 he had no authority to dastardise the spirit; he had no power 
 to extinguish the generous flame of freedom, or to break down 
 the noble independency of soul, by the slavish, debasing, and 
 degrading application of the rod. This mode of punishment 
 in our public schools is one of the worst remains of barbarism 
 that prevails among us. Sensible minds, however volatile and 
 inattentive in early years, may be drawn to their duty by 
 many means, which shame, and fears of a more liberal natui e 
 than those of corporal punishment, will supply vVhere there 
 is but little sensibility, the effect which that mode of punish¬ 
 ment produces is not more happy. It destroys that little; 
 though it should be the first care and labour of the preceptor 
 to increase it. To beat the body, is to debase the mind. No¬ 
 thing so soon, or so totally abolishes the sense of shame; and 
 yet that sense is at once the best preservative of virtue, and 
 the greatest incentive to every species of excellence. 
 
 Another principal advantage, which the ancient mode of 
 the Greek education gave its pupils, was their early access to 
 every branch of philosophical learning. They did not, like 
 us, employ their youth in the acquisition of words; they were 
 engaged in pursuits of a higher nature; in acquiring the know¬ 
 ledge of things. They did not, like us, spend seven or ten 
 years of scholastic labour, in making a general acquaintance 
 with two dead languages. Those years were employed in the 
 study of nature, and in gaining the elements of philosophical 
 knowledge from her original economy and laws. Hence all 
 that Dacier has observed concerning the probability of Plu¬ 
 tarch’s being seventeen or eighteen years of age when he stu¬ 
 died under Ammonius, is without the least weight. 
 
 The way to mathematical and philosophical knowledge was, 
 indeed, much more easy among the ancient Greeks than it can 
 ever be with us. Those, and every other science, are bound 
 up in terms, which we can never understand precisely, till 
 we become acquainted with the languages from which they are 
 derived. Plutarch, when he learnt the Roman language, which 
 was not till he was somewhat advanced in life, observed, that 
 he got the knowledge of words from his knowledge of things. 
 But we lie under the necessity of reversing his method; and 
 

 LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 before we can arrive at the knowledge of things, we must first 
 labour to obtain the knowledge of words. 
 
 However, though the Greeks had access to science without 
 the acquisition of other languages, they were, nevertheless, 
 sufficiently attentive to the cultivation of their own. Philolo¬ 
 gy, after the mathematics and philosophy, was one of their 
 principal studies; and they applied themselves considerably 
 to critical investigation. 
 
 A proof of this we find in that Dissertation which Plutarch 
 hath given us on the word el, engraved on the temple of Apollo 
 at Delphi. In this tract he introduces the scholastic disputes, 
 wherein he makes a principal figure. After giving us the va¬ 
 rious significations which others assigned to this word, he 
 adds his own idea of it; and that is of some consequence to us, 
 because it shows us that he was not a polytheist: — “ El, says 
 he, Thou art; as if it were el, ev, Thou art one. I mean not in 
 the aggregate sense, as we say, one army, or one body of men 
 composed of many individuals; but that which exists distinct¬ 
 ly must necessarily be one; and the very idea of Being implies 
 individuality. One is that, which is a simple being, free from 
 mixture and composition. To be one, therefore, in this sense, 
 is consistent only with a nature entire in its first principle, 
 and incapable of alteration or decay. ” 
 
 So far we are perfectly satisfied with Plutarch’s creed, but 
 not with his criticism. To suppose that the word el, should 
 signify the existence of one God only, is to hazard too much 
 upon conjecture; and the whole tenor of the heathen theology 
 makes against it. 
 
 Nor can we he better pleased with the other interpretations 
 of this celebrated word. We can never suppose, that it bare¬ 
 ly signified //; intimating thereby, that the business of those 
 who visited the temple was inquiry, and they that came to ask 
 the Deity, if such events should come to pass. This construc¬ 
 tion is too much forced; and it would do as well, or even better, 
 were the el interpreted, if you make large presents to the gods, 
 if y ou pay the priest. 
 
 Were not this inscription an object of attention among the 
 learned, we should not, at this distant period of time, have 
 thought it worth mentioning, otherwise than as it gives us an 
 idea of one branch of Plutarch’s education. Put, as a single 
 word, inscribed on the temple of Apollo at Delphi, can not but 
 oe matter of curiosity with those who carry their inquiries 
 into remote antiquity, we shall not scruple to add one more 
 to the other conjectures concerning it. 
 
 We will suppose, then, that the word el was here used in 
 the Ionic dialect, for elOe, I wish. This perfectly expressed 
 the state of mind of all that entered the temple on the business 
 
LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 s 
 
 ol consultation; and it might be no less emphatical in the Greek 
 than Virgil’s Quanquam 0! was in the Latin. If we carry this 
 conjecture farther, and think it probable, that this word might, 
 as the initial word of a celebrated line in the third book of 
 the Odyssey, stand there to signify the whole line, we shall 
 reach a degree of probability almost bordering on certainty. 
 The verse we allude to is this:— 
 
 Et. yap spot, Tfooarjvbs $sot 8vvoiy.Lv rtupo.9tizv! 
 
 ** 0 that the gods would empower me to obtain my wishes!” 
 What prayer more proper on entering the temples of the gods, 
 particularly with the view of consulting them on the events 
 of life. 
 
 If it should be thought that the initial word is insufficient 
 to represent a whole verse, we have to answer, that it was 
 agreeable to the custom of the ancients. They not only con¬ 
 veyed the sense of particular verses by their initial words, 
 but frequently of large passages by the quotation of a single 
 line, or even of half a line; some instances of which occur in 
 the following Lives. The reason of this is obvious: The 
 works of their best poets were almost universally committed 
 to memory; and the smallest quotation was sufficient to con 
 vey the sense of a whole passage. 
 
 These observations are matters of mere curiosity indeed; 
 but they have had their use; for they have naturally pointed 
 out to us another instance of the excellence of that education 
 which formed our young philosopher. 
 
 This was the improvement of the memory by means of ex 
 ercise. 
 
 Mr. Locke has justly, though obviously enough, observed, 
 that nothing so much strengthens this faculty as the employ¬ 
 ment of it. 
 
 The Greek mode of education must have had a wonderlul 
 effect in this case. The continual exercise of the memory in 
 laying up the treasures of their poets, the precepts of their 
 philosophers, and the problems of their mathematicians, must 
 nave given it that mechanical power of retention which no¬ 
 thing could easily escape. Thus Pliny* tells us of a Greek 
 called Charmidas, who could repeat from memory the con 
 tents o r the largest library. 
 
 The advantages Plutarch derived from this exercise appeal 
 in every part of his works. As the writings of poets lived in 
 his memory, they were ready for use and application on every 
 apposite occasion. They were always at hand, either to con 
 
 • Hist. Nat. lib. vii. cap. 24. 
 
G 
 
 LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 firm the sentiments, or justily the principles of his heroes, to 
 support his own, or to illustrate both. 
 
 By the aid of a cultivated memory, too, he was enabled to 
 write a number of contemporary Lives, and to assign to each 
 such a portion of business in the general transactions of the 
 times, as might be sufficient to delineate the character, with¬ 
 out repeated details of the same actions and negociations. 
 This made a very difficult part of his work; and he acquitted 
 himself here with great management and address. Sometimes, 
 indeed, he has repeated the same circumstances in contempo¬ 
 rary Lives, but it was hardly avoidable. The great wonder 
 is, that he has done it so seldom. 
 
 But though an improved memory might, in this respect, 
 be of service to him, as undoubtedly it was, there were others 
 in which it was rather a disadvantage. By trusting too much 
 to it, he has fallen into inaccuracies and inconsistencies, where 
 he was professedly drawing from preceding writers; and we 
 have often been obliged to rectify his mistakes, by consulting 
 those authors, because he would not be at the pains to consult 
 them himself. 
 
 If Plutarch might properly be said to belong to anv sect ot 
 philosophers, his education, the rationality of his r^mciples, 
 and the modesty of his doctrines, would incline js to place 
 him with the latter Academy; at least, when he left his mas¬ 
 ter Ammonius, and came into society, it is more than proba¬ 
 ble, that he ranked particularly with that sect. 
 
 His writings, however, furnish us with many reasons for 
 thinking that he afterwards became a citizen of the philosophi¬ 
 cal world. He appears to have examined every sect with a 
 calm and unprejudiced attention; to have selected what he 
 found of use for the purposes of virtue and happiness; and to 
 have left the rest for the portion of those whose narrowness 
 of mind could think either science or felicity confined to any 
 denomination of men. 
 
 From the Academicians he took their modesty of opinion, 
 and left them their original scepticism; he borrowed their ra¬ 
 tional theology, and gave up to them, in a great measure, their 
 metaphysical refinements, together with their vain though 
 seductive enthusiasm. 
 
 With the Peripatetics, he walked in search oi natural 
 science, and of logic; but, satisfied with whatever practical 
 knowledge might be acquired, he left them to dream over the 
 hypothetical part of the former, and to chase the shadows of 
 reason through the mazes of the latter. 
 
 To the Stoics, he was indebted for the belief of a particular 
 Providence; but he could not enter into their idea of future 
 rewards and punishments. He knew not how to reconcile 
 
LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 7 
 
 the present agency of the Supreme Being with his judicia. 
 character hereafter; though Theodoret tells us, that he had 
 heard of the Christian religion, and inserted several of its 
 mysteries in his works. * From the Stoics, too, he borrowed 
 the doctrine of fortitude; but he rejected the unnatural four?'’ 
 dation on which they erected that virtue. He went back to 
 Socrates for principles whereon to rest it. 
 
 With the Epicureans he does not seem to have had much 
 intercourse, though the accommodating philosophy of Aris¬ 
 tippus entered frequently into his politics, and sometimes in¬ 
 to the general economy of his life. In the little stales of 
 Greece that philosophy had not much to do: but had it been 
 adopted in the more violent measures of the Roman adminis¬ 
 tration, our celebrated biographer would not have had such 
 scenes of blood and ruin to describe; for emulation, prejudice, 
 and opposition, upon whatever principles they might plead 
 their apology, first struck out the fire that laid the Common¬ 
 wealth in ashes. If Plutarch borrowed any thing more from 
 Epicurus, it was his rational idea of enjoyment. That such 
 was his idea, it is more than probable; for it is impossible to 
 believe the tales that the heathen bigots have told of him, or 
 to suppose that the cultivated mind of a philosopher should 
 pursue its happiness out of the temperate order of nature. His 
 irreligious opinions he left to him, as he had left to the other 
 sects their vanities and absurdities. 
 
 But when we bring him to the school of Pythagoras, what 
 idea shall we entertain of him? Shall we consider him any 
 longer as an Academician, or as a citizen of the philosophical 
 world? Naturally benevolent and humane, he finds a system 
 of divinity and philosophy perfectly adapted to his natural 
 sentiments. The whole animal creation he had originally 
 looked upon with an instinctive tenderness; but when the 
 amiable Pythagoras, the priest of Nature, in defence of the 
 common privileges of her creatures, had called religion into 
 their cause;—when he sought to soften the cruelty that man 
 had exercised against them, by the honest art of insinuating 
 the doctrine of transmigration, how could the humane and 
 benevolent Plutarch refuse to serve under this priest of Na¬ 
 ture? It was impossible. He adopted the doctrine of the 
 Metempsychosis. He entered into the merciful scheme of 
 Pythagoras, and, like him, diverted the cruelty of the human 
 species, by appealing to the selfish qualities of their nature, by 
 subduing their pride, and exciting their sympathy, while he 
 
 * Nothing 1 of Plutarch’s is now extant from which we can infer that he was 
 acquainted with the Christian religion. 
 
b 
 
 LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 showed them that their future existence might oe the con¬ 
 dition of a reptile. 
 
 This spirit and disposition break strongly from him in his 
 observations on the elder Cato. And as nothing can exhibit 
 a more lively picture of him than these paintings of his own, 
 we shall not scruple to introduce them here:— 64 For my part, 
 I can not but charge his using his servants like so many beasts 
 of burden, and turning them off, or selling them when they 
 grew old, to the account of a mean and ungenerous spirit, 
 which thinks that the sole tie between man and man is inter¬ 
 est or necessity. But goodness moves in a larger sphere than 
 
 { ’ustice. The obligations of law and equity reach only to man¬ 
 kind, but kindness and beneficence should be extended to 
 creatures of every species; and these still flow from the breast 
 of a well natured man, as streams that issue from the living 
 fountain. A good man will take care of his horses and dogs, 
 not only while they are young, but when old and past service. 
 Thus the people of Athens, when they had finished the tem¬ 
 ple called Hecatompedon, set at liberty the beasts of burden 
 that had been chiefly employed in the work, suffering them 
 to pasture at large, free from any other service. It is said, 
 that one of these afterwards came of its own accord to work, 
 and putting itself at the head of the labouring cattle, marched 
 before them to the citadel. This pleased the people, and they 
 made a decree, that it should be kept at the public charge so 
 long as it lived. The graves of Cimon’s mares, with which 
 he thrice conquered at the Olympic games, are still to be seen 
 near his own tomb. Many have shown particular marks ot 
 regard, In burying the dogs which they had cherished and 
 been fond of; and amongst the rest, Xanthippus of old, whose 
 dog swam by the side of his galley to Salamis, when the 
 Athenians were forced to abandon their city, and was after¬ 
 wards buried by him upon a promontory, which, to this day, 
 is called the Dog’s Grave. We certainly ought not to treat 
 living creatures like shoes or household goods, which, when 
 worn out with use, we throw away; and were it only to learn 
 benevolence to human kind, we should be merciful to other 
 creatures. For my own part, I would not sell even an old ox 
 that had laboured for me; much less would I remove, for the 
 sake of a little money, a man grown old in my service, from 
 his usual lqdgings and diet; for to him, poor man, it would be 
 as bad as banishment, since he could be of no more use to the 
 buyer than he was to the seller. But Cato, as if he took a 
 pride in these things, tells us that, when consul, he left hig 
 war-horse in Spain, to save the public the charge of his con 
 veyance. Whether such things as these are instances of great¬ 
 ness or littleness of soul, let the reader judge for himself!” 
 
LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 9 
 
 What an amiable idea of our benevolent philosopher! How 
 worthy the instructions of the priest of Nature! How hon¬ 
 ourable to that great master of truth and universal science, 
 whose sentiments were decisive in every doubtful matter, and 
 whose maxims were received with silent conviction!* 
 
 Wherefore should we wonder to find Plutarch more particu¬ 
 larly attached to the opinions of this great man? Whether we 
 consider the immensity of his erudition, or the benevolence of 
 his system, the motives for that attachment were equally pow¬ 
 erful. Pythagoras had collected all the stores of human learn¬ 
 ing, and had reduced them into one rational and useful body 
 of science. Like our glorious Bacon, he led philosophy forth 
 from the jargon of schools, and the fopperies of sects. He 
 made her what she was originally designed to be, the handmaid 
 of Nature; friendly to her creatures, and faithful to her laws. 
 Whatever knowledge could be gained by human industry, by 
 the most extensive inquiry and observation, he had every 
 means and opportunity to obtain. The priests of Kgypt un¬ 
 folded to him their mysteries and their learning: they led him 
 through the records of the remotest antiquity, and opened all 
 those stores of science that had been amassing through a mul¬ 
 titude of ages. The Magi of Persia co-operated with the 
 priests of Egypt in the instruction of this wonderful philoso¬ 
 pher. They taught him those higher parts of science, by 
 -which they were themselves so much distinguished,—astrono¬ 
 my and the system of the universe. The laws of moral life, 
 and the institutions of civil societies, with their several excel¬ 
 lencies and defects, he learned from the various states and es¬ 
 tablishments of Greece. Thus accomplished, when he came 
 to dispute in the Olympic contests, he was considered as a 
 prodigy of wisdom and learning; but when the choice of his 
 title was left to him, he modestly declined the appellation of 
 * wise man , and was contented only to be called a lover of wis¬ 
 dom A 
 
 Shall not Plutarch then meet with all imaginable indulgence, 
 if, in his veneration for this great man, he not only adopted 
 the nobler parts of his philosophy, but (what he had avoided 
 with regard to the other sects) followed him too in his errors? 
 Such, in particular, was his doctrine of dreams; to which our 
 biographer, we must confess, has paid too much altention. 
 Yet absolutely to condemn him for this, would perhaps be 
 hazarding as much as totally to defend him. We must ac¬ 
 knowledge, with the elder Pliny, Si exemplis agatur , profecfo 
 paria fiant;\ or in the language of honest Sir Roger de Cover 
 
 * Val. Max. lib. viii. cap. 15. + Hist. Nat. lib r. cap. 75. 
 
 f Val. Max. lib. vi. cap. 7. 
 
 VOL. I.-D 
 
 3 
 
iO 
 
 LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 ley, “ Mach may be said on both sides. ”* However, 1 
 Pliny, whose complaisance for the credit of the marvellous in 
 particular was very great, could be doubtful about this matter, 
 we of little faith may be allowed to be more so Yet Plutarch, 
 in his Treatise on Oracles, has maintained his doctrine by 
 such powerful testimonies, that if any regard is to be paid to 
 his veracity, some attention should be given to his opinion. 
 We shall therefore leave the point, where Mr. Addison 
 thought proper to leave a more imprubable doctrine,—in sus¬ 
 pense. 
 
 When Zeno consulted the oracle in what manner he should 
 live, the answer was, that “ he should inquire of the dead.” 
 Assiduous and indefatigable application to reading made a con¬ 
 siderable part of the Greek education; and in this our bio¬ 
 grapher seems to have exerted the greatest industry. The 
 number of books he has quoted, to which he has referred, and 
 from which he has written, seems almost incredible, when it 
 is considered, that the art of printing was not known in his 
 time, and that the purchase of manuscripts was difficult and 
 dear. 
 
 His family, indeed, was not without wealth. In his Sym- 
 posiacs, he tells us, that it was ancient in Chaeronea; and that 
 his ancestors had been invested with the most considerable 
 offices in the magistracy. He mentions in particular his great¬ 
 grandfather Nicarchus, whom he had the happiness of know¬ 
 ing; and relates, from his authority, the misfortunes of his fel¬ 
 low-citizens, under the severe discipline of Antony’s soldiers. 
 
 His grandfather Lamprias, he tells us, was a man of great 
 eloquence, and of a brilliant imagination. He was distin¬ 
 guished by his merit as a convivial companion; and was one 
 oi those happy mortals, who, when they sacrifice to Bacchus, 
 are favoured by Mercury. His good humour and pleasantry 
 increased with his cups; and he used to say, that wine had the 
 same effect upon him that fire has on incense, which causes 
 the finest and richest essences to evaporate. 
 
 Plutarch has mentioned his father likewise; but has not 
 given us his name in any of those writings that are come down 
 to us. However, he has borne honou ;able testimony to his 
 memory; for he tells us, that he was a learned and a virtuous 
 man, well acquainted with the philosophy and theology of his 
 time, and conversant with the works of the poets. Plutarch, 
 in his Political Precepts, mentions an instance of his father’s 
 discretion, which does him great honour :— 66 I remember,” 
 says he, “that I was sent, when a very young man, along 
 with another citizen of Chaeronea, on an embassy to the pro- 
 
 Spectator, No. 122. 
 
LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 n 
 
 consul. My colleague being, by some accident, obliged to 
 stop in the way, I proceeded without him, and executed our 
 commission. Upon my return to Chseronea, when I was to 
 give an account in public of my negociation, my father took 
 me aside, and said, 6 My son, take care that in the account 
 you are about'to give, you do not mention yourself distinctly, 
 but jointly with your colleague. Say not, I ivent, I spoke , Iexe 
 cuted , but we went , we spoke , we executed . Thus, though your 
 colleague was incapable of attending you, he will share in the 
 honour of your success, as well as in that of your appoint¬ 
 ment; and you will avoid that envy which necessarily follows 
 all arrogated merit/ ” 
 
 Plutarch had two brothers, whose names were Timon and 
 Lamprias. These were his associates in study and amuse¬ 
 ment; and he always speaks of them with pleasure and affec¬ 
 tion. Of Timon in particular he says ,— 66 Though Fortune 
 has, on many occasions, been favourable to me, yet I have no 
 obligations to her so great as the enjoyment of my brothei 
 Timon’s invariable friendship and kindness.” Lamprias toe 
 he mentions as inheriting the lively disposition and good hu 
 mour of his grandfather, who bore the same name. 
 
 Some writers have asserted, that Plutarch passed into Egypt. 
 Others allege, that there is no authority for that assertion; and 
 it is true, that we have no written record concerning it. Never¬ 
 theless, we incline to believe, that he did travel into that coun¬ 
 try; and we found our opinion on the following reasons:—In 
 the first place, this tour was a part of liberal education among 
 the Greeks; and Plutarch, being descended from a family of 
 distinction, was therefore likely to enjoy such a privilege. In 
 the next place, his treatise of Isis and Osiris, shows that he had 
 a more than common knowledge of the religious mysteries of 
 the Egyptians; and it is therefore highly probable, that he ob¬ 
 tained this knowledge by being conversant amongst them. 
 To have written a treatise on so abstruse a subject, without 
 some more eminent advantages than other writers might af 
 ford him, could not have been agreeable to the genius, or con 
 sistent with the modesty of Plutarch. 
 
 However, supposing it doubtful whether he passed into 
 Egypt, there is no doubt at all that he travelled into Italy. 
 Upon what occasion he visited that jountry, it is not quite so 
 certain; but he probably went to Rome, in a public cjmacity, 
 on the business of the Chseroneans; for, in the Life of iJemos- 
 thenes, he tells us, that he had no leisure, in his journey to 
 Italy, to learn the Latin language, on the account of public 
 business. 
 
 As the passage here referred to affords us further matter of 
 speculation for the Life of Plutarch, we shall give it as we 
 
12 
 
 LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 find it:—“ An author who would write a history of events 
 which happened in a foreign country, and can not be come at 
 in his own, as he has his materials to collect from a variety ol 
 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 cu¬ 
 rious 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 memory, 
 This will prevent his work from being defective in any mate¬ 
 rial point. As to myself, I live in a little town; and I choose 
 to live there, lest 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 who 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.” 
 
 From this short account, we may collect, with tolerable 
 certainty, the following circumstances:— 
 
 In the first place, Plutarch tells us, that while he was resi 
 dent in Rome, public business and lectures in philosophy 
 left him no time for learning the Latin language; and yet, a 
 little before, he had observea, that those who write a history 
 of foreign characters and events ought to be conversant with 
 the historians of that country where the character existed, and 
 the scene is laid; but he acknowledges,that he did not learn the 
 Latin language till he was late in life, because, when at Rome 
 he had not time for that purpose. 
 
 We may therefore conclude, that he wrote his Morals at 
 Rome, and his Lives at Chaeronea. For the composition of 
 the former, the knowledge of the Roman language was not 
 necessary; the Greek tongue was then generally understood 
 in Rome, and he had no necessity for malting use of any other 
 when he delivered his lectures of philosophy to the people. 
 Those lectures, it is more than probable, made up that col¬ 
 lection of Morals, which is come down to us. 
 
 Though he could not avail himself of the Roman historians 
 in the great purpose of writing his Lives, for want of a com* 
 petent acquaintance with the language in which they wrote, 
 yet, by conversing with the principal citizens in trie Greek 
 tongue, he must have collected many essential circumstances, 
 and anecdotes of characters and events, that promoted h is de¬ 
 sign, and enriched the plan of his work. The treasures he 
 acquired of this kind he secured by means of a common-place 
 book, which he constantly carried about with him; and as it 
 appears that he was in Rome, and other parts of Italy, from 
 the beginning of Vespasian’s reign to the end of Trajan’s, he 
 
LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 13 
 
 must have had sufficient time and opportunity to procure ma 
 terials of every kind; for this was a period of almost forty 
 years. 
 
 We shall the more readily enter into the belief that Plutarch 
 collected his materials chiefly from conversation, when we 
 consider in what manner, and on what subjects, the ancients 
 used to converse. The discourse of people of education and 
 distinction in those days was somewhat different from that of 
 ours. It was not on the powers or pedigree of a horse; it was 
 not on a match of travelling between geese and turkeys; it was 
 not on a race of maggots, started against each other on the table, 
 when they first came to day-light from the shell of a filbert > 
 it was not by what part you may suspend a spaniel the longest 
 without making him whine; it was not on the exquisite finesse, 
 and the highest manoeuvres of play; the old Romans had no 
 ambition for attainments of this nature. They had no such 
 masters in science as Heber and Hoyle. The taste of their 
 day did not run so high. The powers of poetry and philoso¬ 
 phy, the economy of human life and manners, the cultivation 
 of the intellectual faculties, the enlargement of the mind, his¬ 
 torical and political discussions on the events of their country; 
 these, and such subjects as these, made the principal part of 
 their conversation. Of this Plutarch has given us at once 
 a proof and a specimen, in what he calls his Symposiacs, or, 
 as our Selden calls it, his Table-Talk. From such conversa¬ 
 tions as these, then, we can not wonder that he was able to 
 collect such treasures as were necessary for the maintenance 
 of his biographical undertaking. 
 
 In the sequel of the last quoted passage, we find another 
 argument, which confirms us in the opinion that Plutarch’s 
 knowledge of the Roman history was chiefly of colloquial 
 acquisition:—“ My method of learning the Roman language,” 
 says he, u 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 had of things.” This plainly im¬ 
 plies, that he was previously acquainted with the events de¬ 
 scribed in the language he was learning. 
 
 It must be owned that the Roman history had been already 
 written in Greek by Polybius; and that, indeed, somewhat 
 invalidates the last-mentioned argument. Nevertheless, it has 
 st ill sufficient evidence for its support. There are a thousand 
 circumstances in Plutarch’s Lives which could not be collect¬ 
 ed from Polybius; and it is clear to us, that he did not make 
 much use of his Latin reading. 
 
 He acknowledges that he did not apply himself to the ac¬ 
 quisition of that language till he was far advanced in life; pos« 
 sibly it might be about the latter part of the reign cf Trajan,, 
 
 3* 
 
14 
 
 LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 whose kind disposition towards his country rendered the 
 weight of public and political business easy to him. 
 
 But whenever he might begin to learn the language of 
 Rome, it is certain that he made no great progress in it. This 
 appears as well from the little comments he has occasionally 
 
 f iven us on certain Latin words, as from some passages in his 
 iives, where he has professedly followed the Latin historians, 
 and yet followed them in an uncertain and erroneous manner. 
 
 That he wrote the Lives of Demosthenes and Cicero at Chse~ 
 ronea, it is clear from his own account; and it is more than 
 probable, too, that the rest of his Lives were written in that 
 retirement; for if, while he was at Rome, he could scarcely 
 find time to learn the language, it is hardly to be supposed 
 that he could do more than lay up materials for composition. 
 
 A circumstance arises here, which confirms to us an opin¬ 
 ion we have long entertained, that the Book of Apophthegms; 
 which is said to have been written by Plutarch, is really not 
 his work. This book is dedicated to Trajan; and the dedica¬ 
 tor assuming the name and character of Plutarch, says, he had, 
 before this, written the Lives of illustrious Men; but Plutarch 
 wrote those Lives at Chgeronea, and he did not retire to Chae- 
 ronea till after the death of Trajan. 
 
 There are other proofs, if others were necessary, to show 
 that this work was supposititious; for, in this dedication to Tra¬ 
 jan, not the least mention is made of Plutarch’s having been his 
 preceptor, of his being raised by him to the consular dignity, 
 or of his being appointed governor of Illyria. Dacier, observ¬ 
 ing this, has drawn a wrong conclusion from it, and, contrary 
 to the assertion of Suidas, will have it, that Plutarch was nei¬ 
 ther preceptor to Trajan, nor honoured with any appointments 
 under him. Had it occurred to him that the Book of Apoph¬ 
 thegms could not be Plutarch’s book, but that it 'was merely 
 an extract made from his real works by some industrious 
 grammarian, he would not have been under the necessity of 
 hazarding so much against the received opinion of his con¬ 
 nexions with Trajan; nor would he have found it necessary 
 to allow so little credit to his letter addressed to that emperor 
 which we have upon record. The letter is as follows:— 
 
 Plutarch to Trajan. 
 
 6i I am sensible,that you sought not the empire. Youi na¬ 
 tural modesty would not suffer you to apply for a distinction 
 to which you were always entitled by the excellency of your 
 manners. That modesty, however, makes you still more wor¬ 
 thy of those honours you had no ambition to solicit. Should 
 your future government prove in any degree answerable to 
 
LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 k5 
 
 pour former merit, I shall have reason to congratulate both youi 
 virtue and my own good fortune on this great event. But, if 
 otherwise, you have exposed yourself to danger, and me to 
 obloquy; for Rome will never endure an emperor unworthy 
 of her; and the faults of the scholar will be imputed to the 
 master. Seneca is reproached, and his fame still suffers for the 
 vices of Nero; the reputation of Quintilian is hurt by the ill 
 conduct of his scholars; and even Socrates is accused of negli¬ 
 gence in the education of Alcibiades. Of you, however, 1 
 have better hopes, and flatter myself that your administration 
 will do honour to your virtues. Only continue to be what 
 you are. Let your government commence in your breast, 
 and lay the foundation of it in the command of your passions. 
 If you make virtue the rule of your conduct and the end of 
 your actions, every thing will proceed in harmony and order. 
 
 I have explained to you the spirit of those laws and constitu¬ 
 tions that were established by your predecessors, and you 
 have nothing to do but to carry them into execution. If this 
 should be the case, I shall have the glory of having formed an 
 emperor to virtue; but, if otherwise; let this letter remain a 
 testimony with succeeding ages, that you did not ruin the Ro¬ 
 man empire under pretence of the counsels or the authority 
 of Plutarch.” 
 
 Why Dacier should think that this letter is neither worthy 
 of the pen, nor written in the manner of Plutarch, it is no: 
 easy to conceive; for it has all the spirit, the manly freedom, 
 and the sentimental turn of that philosopher. 
 
 We shall find it no very difficult matter to account for his 
 connection with Trajan, if we attend to the manner in which 
 he lived, and to the reception he met with in Rome. During 
 his residence in that city, his house was the resort of the prin¬ 
 cipal citizens. All that were distinguished by their rank, 
 taste, learning, or politeness, sought his conversation and at¬ 
 tended his lectures. The study of the Greek language, and 
 philosophy, was at that time the greatest pursuits of the Roman 
 nobility, and even the emperors honoured the most celebrated 
 professors with their presence and support. Plutarch, in his 
 treatise on Curiosity, has introduced a circumstance, which 
 places the attention that was paid to his lectures in a very 
 strong light:—-“It once happened,” says he, “that when I 
 was speaking in public at Rome, Arulenus Rusticus, the same 
 whom Domitian, through envy of his growing reputation, af¬ 
 terwards put to death, was one of my hearers. When I was 
 in the middle of my discourse, a soldier came in, and brought 
 him a letter from the emperor. Upon this there was a gen¬ 
 eral silence through the audience, and I stopped to give him 
 
16 
 
 LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 time to peruse this letter; but he would not suffer it; nor did 
 he open the letter till 1 had finished my lecture, and the au¬ 
 dience was dispersed.” 
 
 To understand the importance of this compliment, it will 
 be necessary to consider the quality and character of the per¬ 
 son who paid it. Arulenus was one of the greatest men in 
 Rome, distinguished as well by the lustre of his family, as by 
 an honourable ambition and thirst of glory. He was tribune 
 of the people when Nero caused Psetus and Soranus to be 
 capitally condemned by a decree of the senate. When So¬ 
 ranus w'as deliberating with his friends whether he should at¬ 
 tempt or give up his defence, Arulenus had the spirit to pro¬ 
 pose an opposition to the decree of the senate, in his capacity 
 of tribune; and he would have carried it into execution, had 
 he not been overruled by Paetus, who remonstrated, that by 
 such a measure he would destroy himself, without the satis¬ 
 faction of serving his friend. He was afterwards praetor un¬ 
 der Vitellius, whose interests he followed with the greatest 
 fidelity* But his spirit and magnanimity do him the greatest 
 honour, in that eulogy which he wrote on Paetus and Helvi 
 dius Priscus. His whole conduct was regulated by the pre 
 cepts of philosophy; and the respect he showed to Plutarch on 
 this occasion was a proof of his attachment to it. Such was 
 the man who postponed the letter of a prince to the lecture of 
 a philosopher. 
 
 But Plutarch was not only treated with general marks of 
 distinction by the superior people in Rome; he had particular 
 and very respectable friendships. Sossius Senecio, who was 
 four times consul, once under Nerva, and thrice under Trajan, 
 was his most intimate friend. To him he addresses his Lives, 
 except that of Aratus, which is inscribed to Polycrates of 
 Sicyon, the grandson of Aratus. With Senecio he not only 
 lived in the strictest friendship whilst he was in Rome, but 
 corresponded with him after he retired to Greece. And is it 
 not easy to believe, that through the interest of this zealous 
 and powerful friend, Plutarch might not only be appointed 
 tutor to Trajan, but be advanced likewise to the consular dig¬ 
 nity? When we consider Plutarch’s eminence in Rome as a 
 teacher of philosophy, nothing can be more probable than the 
 former; when we remember the consular interest of Senecio 
 under Trajan, and his distinguished regard for Plutarch, no¬ 
 thing can be more likely than the latter. 
 
 The honour of being preceptor to such a virtuous prince as 
 Trajan, is so important a point in the Life of Plutarch, that it 
 must not hastily be given up. Suidas has asserted it. The 
 letter above quoted, if it be, as we have no doubt of its being 
 the genuine composition of Plutarch, has confirmed it. Pe 
 
LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 17 
 
 trarch has maintained it. Dacier only has doubted, or rather 
 denied it. But upon what evidence has he grounded his 
 opinion? Plutarch, he says, was but three or four years older 
 than Trajan, and therefore was unfit to be his preceptor in 
 philosophy. Now, let us inquire into the force of this argu¬ 
 ment. Trajan spent the early part of his life in arms; Plu¬ 
 tarch in the study of the sciences. When that prince applied 
 himself to literary pursuits, he was somewhat advanced in life, 
 Plutarch must have been more so. And why a man of sci¬ 
 ence should be an unfit preceptor in philosophy to a military 
 man, though no more than four years older, the reason, we 
 apprehend, will be somewhat difficult to discover. 
 
 Dacier, moreover, is reduced to a petitio principii , when he 
 says that Plutarch was only four years older than Trajan; for 
 we have seen that it is impossible to ascertain the time of Plu¬ 
 tarch’s birth; and the date which Dacier assigns it is purely 
 conjectural. We will, therefore, conclude with those learn¬ 
 ed men who have formerly allowed Plutarch the honour of 
 being preceptor to Trajan, that he certainly was so. There 
 is little doubt that they grounded their assertions upon proper 
 authority; and, indeed, the internal evidence arising from the 
 nature and effects of that education, which did equal honour 
 to the scholar .and to the master, comes in aid of the argu¬ 
 ment. 
 
 Some chronologers have taken upon them to ascertain the 
 time when Plutarch’s reputation was established in Rome. 
 Peter of Alexandria fixes it in the thirteenth year of the reign 
 of Nero, in the consulate of Capito and Rufus:—“Lucian,” 
 says he, “was at this time in great reputation amongst the 
 Romans; and Musonius and Plutarch were well known.” 
 Eusebius brings it one year lower, and tells us, that, in the 
 fourteenth year of Nero’s reign, Musonius and Plutarch were 
 in great reputation. Both tnese writers are palpably mista¬ 
 ken. We have seen, that, in the twelfth year of Nero, Plu 
 tarch was yet at school under Ammonius; and it is not verj^ 
 probable that a school-boy should be celebrated as a philoso¬ 
 pher in Rome, within a year or two after. Indeed Eusebius 
 contradicts himself; for, on another occasion, he places him 
 in the reign of Adrian, the third year of the Olympiad two 
 hundred and twenty-four, of the Christian era one hundred 
 and twenty:—“In this year,” says he, “the philosophers, 
 Plutarch of Chaeronea, Sextus, and Agathobulus, flourished.” 
 Thus he carries him as much too low, as he had before placed 
 b.im too high. It is certain, that he first grew into reputation 
 under the reign of Vespasian, and that his philosophical fame 
 was established in the time of Trajan. 
 
 It seems that the Greek and Latin writers of those times 
 Vol. i.-E 
 
18 
 
 LIFE OF PLUTARCH 
 
 were either little acquainted with each other’s works, or that 
 there were some literary jealousies and animosities between 
 them. When Plutarch flourished, there were several con¬ 
 temporary writers of distinguished abilities; Perseus, Lucan, 
 Silius Italicus, Valerius Flaccus, the younger Pliny, Solinus, 
 Martial, Quintilian, and many more. Yet none of those have 
 made the least mention of him. Was this envy, or was it Ro¬ 
 man pride? Possibly, they could not bear that a Greek sophist, 
 a native of such a contemptible town as Chaeronea, should en¬ 
 joy the palm of literary praise in Rome. It must be observed, 
 at the same time, that the principal Roman writers* had con¬ 
 ceived a jealousy of the Greek philosophers, which was very 
 prevailing in that age. Of this we find a strong testimony in 
 the elder Pliny, where, speaking of Cato the Censor’s disap¬ 
 proving and dismissing the Grecian orators, and of the younger 
 Cato’s bringing in triumph a sophist from Greece, he ex¬ 
 claims, in terms that signify contempt, Quanta morum commu - 
 tatio! 
 
 However, to be undistinguished by the encomiums of con¬ 
 temporary writers, was by no means a thing peculiar to Plu¬ 
 tarch. It has been, and still is the fate of superior genius, to 
 be beheld either with silent or abusive envy. It makes its 
 way like the sun, which we look upon with pain, unless some¬ 
 thing passes over him that obscures his glory. We then view 
 with eagerness the shadow, the cloud, or the spot, and are 
 pleased with what eclipses the brightness we otherwise can 
 not bear. 
 
 Yet, if Plutarch, like other great men, found—“ Envy 
 n^ver conquered but by death,” his manes have been appeas¬ 
 ed by the amplest atonements. Amongst the many that have 
 done honour to his memory, the following eulogiums deserve 
 to be recorded. 
 
 Yulus Gellius compliments him with the highest distinction 
 ir? science.* 
 
 Taurus, quoted by Gellius, calls him a man of the most con¬ 
 summate learning and wisdom, t 
 
 Eusebius places him at the head of the Greek philosophers. % 
 
 Sardianus, in his preface to the Lives of the Philosophers, 
 calls him the most divine Plutarch, the beauty and harmony 
 of philosophy. 
 
 retrach, in his moral writings, frequently distinguishes him 
 ! 5 > r the title of the great Plutarch. 
 
 Honour has been done to him likewise by Origen, Hi me* 
 nus the sophist, Cyrillus, Theodoret, Suidas, Photius, Xi 
 
 * A Gellius, lib. iv. < ap. 7. i Eu. c lb. Praep. lib. iii. init. 
 
 j- Gell. lib. i. cap. 26. 
 
LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 19 
 
 plulinus, Joannes Sarisberiensis, Victorius, Lipsins, and Aga- 
 tliias, in the epigram which is thus translated by Dryden:— 
 
 Chaeronean Plutarch, to thy deathless praise 
 Docs martial Rome this grateful statue /aise; 
 
 Because both Greece and she thy fame have shar’d. 
 
 Their heroes written and their lives compar’d. 
 
 But thou thyself could’st never write thy own; 
 
 Their lives have parallels, but thine has none. 
 
 But this is perfectly extravagant. We are much better pleas¬ 
 ed with the Greek verses of the honest metropolitan under 
 Constantine Monomachus. They deserve to he translated:— 
 
 Lord of that light, that living power, to save. 
 
 Which her lost sons no Heathen Science gave: 
 
 If aught of these thy mercy means to spare, 
 
 Yield Plato, Lord,—yield Plutarch to my prayer. 
 
 Led by no grace, no new conversion wrought, 
 
 They felt thy own divinity of thought. 
 
 That grace exerted, spare the partial rod; 
 
 The last, best witness, that thou art their God! 
 
 Theodore Gaza, who was a man of considerable learning, 
 and a great reviver of letters, had a particular attachment to 
 our biographer. When he was asked, in case of a general de¬ 
 struction of books, what author he would wish to save from 
 the ruin, he answered,—Plutarch. He considered his histo¬ 
 rical and philosophical writings as the most beneficial to socie¬ 
 ty, and of course the best substitute for all other books. 
 
 Were it necessary to produce further suffrages for the merit 
 of Plutarch, it would be sufficient to say, that he has been 
 
 E raised by Montaigne, St. Evremond, and Montesquieu, the 
 cst critics and the ablest writers of their time. 
 
 After receiving the most distinguished honours that a phi¬ 
 losopher could enjoy; after the god-like office of teaching wis¬ 
 dom and goodness to the metropolis of the world; after having 
 formed an emperor to virtue; and after beholding the effects 
 of his precepts in the happiness of human kind, Plutarch re¬ 
 tired to his native country. The death of this illustrious prince 
 and pupil, to a man of his sensibility, must have rendered 
 Rome even painful; for whatever influence philosophy may 
 have on the Cultivation of the mind, we find that it has very 
 little power over the interests of the heart. 
 
 It must have been in the decline of life that Plutarch retired 
 to Chseronea. But though he withdrew from the busier scenes 
 of the world,he fled not to an unprofitable or inactive solitude. 
 In that retirement he formed the great work for which he had 
 so long been preparing materials,—his Lives of illustrious 
 
20 
 
 LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 Men; a work which, as Scaliger says, non solum fait in manU 
 bus hominum , at etiam humani generis memoriam occupavit . 
 
 To recommend by encomiums what has been received with 
 universal approbation, would be superfluous. But to observe 
 where the biographer has excelled, and in what he has failed , 
 to make a due estimate as well of the defects as of the merits 
 ©f his work, may have its use. 
 
 Lipsius has observed, that he does not write history, but 
 scraps of history, non liistoriam , sed particulas historic. This 
 is said of his Lives; and in one sense it is true. No single 
 life that he has written will afford a sufficient history of its 
 proper period; neither was it possible that it should do so. As 
 nis plan comprised a number of contemporary Lives, most of 
 which were in public characters, the business of their period 
 was to be divided amongst them. The general history of the 
 time was to be thrown into separate portions; and those por¬ 
 tions were to be allotted to such characters as had the princi¬ 
 pal interest in the several events. 
 
 This was in some measure done by Plutarch; but it was not 
 done with great art or accuracy. At the same time, as we have 
 already observed, it is not to be wondered, if there were some 
 repetitions, when the part which the several characters bore 
 in the principal events, was necessary to be pointed out. 
 
 Yet these scraps of history, thus divided and dispersed, 
 when seen in a collective form, make no very imperfect nar¬ 
 rative of the times within their view. The biographer’s at 
 tention to the minuter circumstances of character, his disqui 
 sitions of principles and manners, and his political and philo¬ 
 sophical discussions, lead us in an easy and intelligent man 
 ner to the events he describes. 
 
 It is not to be denied, that his narratives are sometimes dis¬ 
 orderly, and too often encumbered with impertinent digres¬ 
 sions. By pursuing with too much indulgence the train of 
 ideas, he has frequently destroyed the order of facts, brought 
 together events that lay at a distance from each other, called 
 forward those circumstances to which he should have made 
 a regular progress, and made no other apology for these idle 
 excursions, but by telling us that he is out of the order oi 
 time. 
 
 Notes, in the time of Plutarch, were not in use. Had he 
 known the convenience of marginal writing, he would certain¬ 
 ty have thrown the greatest part of his digressions into that 
 form. They are undoubtedly tedious and disgustful; and all 
 we can do to reconcile ourselves to them, is to remember, 
 that, in the first place, marginal writing was a thing unknown, 
 and that the benevolent desire of conveying instruction, was 
 the greatest motive with the biographer for introducing them 
 
LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 21 
 
 This appears at least from the nature of them; for they are 
 chiefly disquisitions in natural history and philosophy. 
 
 In painting the manners of men, Plutarch is truly excel¬ 
 lent. Nothing can be more clear than his moral distinctions; 
 nothing finer than his delineations of the mind. 
 
 The spirit of philosophical observation and inquiry, which, 
 when properly directed, is the great ornament and excellence 
 of historical composition, Plutarch possessed in an eminent 
 degree. His biographical writings teach philosophy at once 
 by precept and by example. His morals and his characters 
 mutually explain and give force to each other. 
 
 His sentiments of the duty of a biographer were peculiarly 
 just and delicate. This will appear from his strictures on 
 those historians who wrote of Philistus :— 66 It is plain, 55 says 
 he, “ that Timseus takes every occasion, from Philistus 5 
 known adherence to arbitrary power, to load him with the 
 heaviest reproaches. Those whom he injured, are in some 
 degree excusable, if, in their resentment, they treated him 
 with indignities after death. But wherefore should his bio¬ 
 graphers, whom he never injured, and who have had the 
 benefit of his works; wherefore should they exhibit him with 
 all the exaggerations of scurrility, in those scenes of distress 
 to which fortune sometimes reduces the best of men? On the 
 other hand, Ephorus is no less extravagant in his encomiums 
 on Philistus. He knows well how to throw into shades the 
 foibles of the human character, and to give an air of plausi¬ 
 bility to the most indefensible conduct; but with all his ele¬ 
 gance, with all his art, he can not rescue Philistus from the 
 imputation of being the most strenuous supporter of arbitrary 
 power, of being the fondest follower and admirer of the luxu¬ 
 ry, the magnificence, the alliance of tyrants. Upon the whole, 
 he who neither defends the principles of Philistus; nor insults 
 over his misfortunes, will best discharge the duty of the his- 
 torian. v 
 
 There is such a thing as constitutional religion. There is a 
 certain temper and frame of mind naturally productive of de¬ 
 votion. There are men who are born with the original prin¬ 
 ciples of piety; and in this class we need not hesitate to place 
 Plutarch. 
 
 If this disposition has sometimes made him too indulgent to 
 superstition, and too attentive to the less rational circumstan¬ 
 ces of the heathen theology, it is not to be wondered. But, 
 upon the v T hole, he had consistent and honourable notions of 
 the Supreme Being. 
 
 That he believed the unity of the Divine Nature, we have 
 already seen in his observations on the word n, engraved on 
 Apollo's temple. The same opinion too is found in his trea- 
 
 Vol. j. 4 
 
22 
 
 LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 tise on the Cessation of Oracles; where, in the character of a 
 Platonist, he argues against the Stoics, who denied the plu¬ 
 rality of worlds;—‘ ‘ If there are many worlds, ” said the Stoics, 
 u why then is there only one fate, and one providence to 
 ide them? for the Platonists allow that there is but one.— 
 
 Why should not many Jupiters, or gods, be necessary for the 
 government of many worlds?” To this Plutarch answers,—- 
 u Where is the necessity of supposing many Jupiters for this 
 plurality of worlds? Is not one Excellent Being, endued with 
 reason and intelligence, such as he is whom we acknowledge 
 to be the Father and Lord of all things, sufficient to direct and 
 rule these worlds? If there were more supreme agents, their 
 decrees would be vain, and contradictory to each other.” 
 
 But though Plutarch acknowledged the individuality of the 
 Supreme Being, he believed, nevertheless, in the existence of 
 intermediate beings of an inferior order, between the divine 
 and the human nature. These beings he calls genii, or dae¬ 
 mons. It is impossible, he thinks, from the general order 
 and principles of creation, that there should be no mean be¬ 
 twixt the two extremes of a mortal and immortal being; that 
 there can not be in nature so great a vacuum, without some 
 intermediate species of life, which might in some measure 
 partake of both. And as we find the connection between soul 
 and body to be made by means of the animal spirits, so these 
 daemons are intelligences between divinity and humanity. 
 Their nature, however, is believed to be progressive. At first 
 they are supposed to have been virtuous men, whose souls 
 being refined from the gross parts of their former existence, 
 are admitted into the higher order of genii, and are from 
 thence either raised to a more exalted mode of ethereal being, 
 or degraded to mortal forms, according to their merit, or their 
 degeneracy. One order of these genii, he supposes, presided 
 over oracles; others administered, under the Supreme Being, 
 the affairs and the fortunes of men, supporting the virtuous, 
 punishing the bad, and sometimes even communicating with 
 the best and purest natures. Thus the genius of Socrates still 
 warned him of approaching danger, and taught him to avoid it. 
 
 It is this order of beings which the late Mr. Thomson, who 
 in enthusiasm was a Platonist, and in benevolence a Pythago¬ 
 rean, has so beautifully described in his Seasons; and, as if the 
 good bard had believed the doctrine, he pathetically invokes 
 a favourite spirit which had lately forsaken its former mam 
 sion:— 
 
 And art thou, Stanley, of that sacred band' 
 
 Alas! for us too soon!- 
 
LIFE OF PLUTAiiCH. 
 
 2 3 
 
 Such were Plutarch’s religious principles; and as a proof 
 that he thought them of consequence, he entered, after his re* 
 tirement, into a sacred character, and was consecrated priest 
 of Apollo. 
 
 This was not his sole appointment, when he returned to 
 Chaeronea. He united the sacerdotal with the magistratial 
 ch aracter, and devoted himself at once to the service of the 
 gods, and to the duties of society . He did not think that 
 philosophy, or the pursuit of letters, ought to exempt any man 
 from personal service in the community to which he belong¬ 
 ed; and though his literary labours were of the greatest im¬ 
 portance to the world, he sought no excuse in those from dis¬ 
 charging offices of public trust in his little city of Chaeronea. 
 
 It appears that he passed through several of these offices, 
 and that he was at last appointed archon, or chief magistrate 
 of the city. Whether he retained his superintendency of 
 Illyria after the death of Trajan, we do not certainly know; 
 but, in this humble sphere, it will be worth our while to in¬ 
 quire in what manner a philosopher would administer justice. 
 
 With regard to the inferior offices that he bore, he looked 
 upon them in the same light as the great Epaminondas had 
 done, who, when he was appointed to a commission beneath 
 his rank, observed,—“ That no office could give dignity to 
 him that held it; but that he who held it might give dignity 
 to any office.” It is not unentertaining to hear our philoso¬ 
 pher apologize for his employment, when he discharges the 
 office of commissioner of sewers and public buildings.—“I 
 make no doubt,” says he, “ that the citizens of Chaeronea of¬ 
 ten smile, when they see me employed in such offices as these. 
 On such occasions, I generally call to mind what is said of 
 Antisthenes. When he was bringing home, in his own hands, 
 a dirty fish from the market, some, who observed it, expressed 
 their surprise. It is for myself, said Antisthenes, that I carry 
 this fish. On the .contrary, for my own part, when I am ral¬ 
 lied for measuring tiles, or for calculating a quantity of stones 
 or mortar, I answer, that it is not for myself I do these things, 
 but for my country. For, in all things of this nature, the 
 public utility takes off the disgrace; and the meaner the office 
 you sustain may be, the greater is the compliment that you 
 pay to the public.” 
 
 Plutarch, in the capacity of a public magistrate, was inde¬ 
 fatigable in recommending unanimity to the citizens. To 
 carry this point more effectually, he lays it down as a first 
 principle, that a magistrate should be affable and easy of ac¬ 
 cess; that his house should always be open as a place of refuge 
 for those who sought for justice; and that he should not satisfy 
 himself merely with allotting certain hours of the day to sit 
 
24 
 
 LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 for the despatch of business, but that he should employ a part 
 of his time in private negociations, in making up domestic 
 quarrels, and reconciling divided friends. This employment 
 he regarded as one of the principal parts of his office; and, in¬ 
 deed, he might properly consider it in a political light; for it 
 too frequently happens, that the most dangerous public fac¬ 
 tions are at first kindled by private misunderstandings. Thusj 
 in one part of his works, lie falls into the same sentiment:— 
 “ As public conflagrations,” says he, “ do not always begin 
 in public edifices, but are caused more frequently by some 
 lamp neglected in a private house; so, in the administration 
 of states, it does not always happen that the flame of sedition 
 arises from political differences, but from private dissensions, 
 which, running through along chain of connections^ at length 
 affect the whole body of the people. For this reason, it is 
 one of the principal duties of a minister of state or magistrate, 
 to heal these private animosities, and to prevent them from 
 growing into public divisions. ” After these observations, he 
 mentions several states and cities which had owed their ruin 
 to the same little causes; and then adds, that we ought not by 
 any means to be inattentive to the misunderstandings of pri¬ 
 vate men, but apply to them the most timely remedies; for, 
 oy proper care, as Cato observes, what is great becomes little, 
 and what is little is reduced to nothing. Of the truth of these 
 observations, the annals of our own country, we wish we had 
 no reason to say our own times, have presented us with many 
 melancholy instances. 
 
 As Plutarch observed that it was a fashionable fault amongst 
 men of fortune to refuse a proper respect to magistrates of in¬ 
 ferior rank, he endeavoured to remove this impolitic evil as 
 well by precept as by example :—“ To learn obedience and de¬ 
 ference to the magistrate,” says he, “ is one of the first and 
 best principles of discipline; nor ought these by any means to 
 be dispensed with, though that magistrate should be inferior 
 to us in figure or in fortune. For how absurd is it, if, in the¬ 
 atrical exhibitions, the meanest actor, that wears a momentary 
 diadem, shall receive his due respect from superior players; 
 and yet, in civil life, men of greater power or wealth shall 
 withhold the deference that is due to the magistrate! In this 
 case, however, they should remember, that while they con 
 suit their own importance, they detract from the honour oi 
 the state. Private dignity ought always to give place to pub¬ 
 lic authority; as, in Sparta, it was usual for the kings to rise 
 in compliment to the ephori.” 
 
 With regard to Plutarch’s political principles, it is clear 
 that he was, even whilst at Rome, a republican in heart and 
 a friend to liberty. But this does him no peculiar honour 
 
LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 25 
 
 Such privileges are the birth-right of mankind; and they are 
 never parted with but through fear or favour. At Rome, he 
 acted like a philosopher of the world: Quando noi siamo in Roma , 
 hoi faciamo come eglino fanno in Roma. He found a constitution 
 which he had not power to alter; yet, though he could not 
 make mankind free, he made them comparatively happy, by 
 teaching clemency to their temporary ruler. 
 
 At Chseronea we find him more openly avowing the prin¬ 
 ciples of liberty. During his residence at Rome, he had re¬ 
 marked an essential error in the police. In all complaints and 
 
 E rocesses, however trifling, the people had recourse to the 
 rst officers of state. By this means they supposed that their 
 interest would be promoted; but it had a certain tendency to 
 enslave them still more, and to render them the tools and de¬ 
 pendents of court power. Of these measures the archon of 
 Chseronea thus expresses his disapprobation:—“ At the same 
 time/’ says he, u that we endeavour to render a city obedi¬ 
 ent to its magistrates, we must bew’are of reducing it to a ser 
 vile or too humiliating a condition. Those who carry every 
 trifle to the cognizance oi the supreme magistrate, are con¬ 
 tributing all they can to the servitude of their country.” And 
 it is undoubtedly true, that the habitual and universal exertion 
 of authority has a natural tendency to arbitrary dominion. 
 
 We have now considered Plutarch in the light of a philo¬ 
 sopher, a biographer, and a magistrate; we have entered into 
 his moral, religious, and political character, as well as the in¬ 
 formations we could obtain would enable us. It only remains 
 that we view him in the domestic sphere of life—that little 
 but trying sphere, where we act wholly from ourselves, and 
 assume no character but that which nature and education has 
 given us. 
 
 Dacier, on falling into this part of Plutarch’s history, has 
 made a whimsical observation:—“ There are two cardinal 
 points,” says he, “in a man’s life, which determine his hap¬ 
 piness or his misery. These are, his birth, and his marriage. 
 It is in vain for a man to be born fortunate, if he be unfortu¬ 
 nate in his marriage.” How Dacier could reconcile the as¬ 
 trologers to this new doctrine, it is not easy to say; for, upon 
 this principle a man must at least have two good stars, one for 
 his birth-day, the other for his wedding-day; as it seems that 
 the influence of the natal star could not extend beyond tne 
 bridal morn, but that a man then falls under a different cc- 
 minion. 
 
 At what time Plutarch entered into this state, we are not 
 quae certain; but as it is not probable that a man of his wis¬ 
 dom would marry at an advanced time of life, and as his wife 
 was a native of Chaeronea, we may conclude that he married 
 Vol. i -F 4* 
 
26 
 
 LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 oefore he went to Rome. However that might be, it appears 
 that he was fortunate in his choice; for his wife was not only 
 well born, and well bred, but a woman of distinguished sense 
 and virtue. Her name was Timoxena. 
 
 Plutarch appears to have had at least five children by her, 
 four sons and a daughter, whom out of regard for her mother, 
 he called Timoxena. He has given us a proof that he had all 
 ths tenderness of an affectionate father for these children, by 
 recording a little instance of his daughter’s natural benevo¬ 
 lence:—“ When she was very young,” says he, “ she would 
 frequently beg of her nurse to give the breast not only to the 
 other children, but to her babies and dolls, which she consi¬ 
 dered as her dependents, and under her protection.” Who 
 does not see, in this simple circumstance, at once the fondness 
 of the parent, and the benevolent disposition of the man? 
 
 But the philosopher soon lost his little blossom of humani¬ 
 ty. His Timoxena died in her infancy; and, if we may judge 
 from the consolatory letter he wrote to her mother on tne oc¬ 
 casion, he bore the loss as became a philosopher:—“ Consi¬ 
 der,” said he, “that death has deprived your Timoxena only 
 of small enjoyments. The things she knew were of little con 
 sequence, and she could be delighted only with trifles.” In 
 this letter we find a portrait of his wife, which does hei 
 the greatest honour. From the testimony given by her hus¬ 
 band, it appears that she was far above the general weakness 
 and affectation of her sex. She had no passion for the expen¬ 
 siveness of dress, or the parade of public appearances. She 
 thought every kind of extravagance blameable; and her ambi 
 tion went not beyond the decencies and proprieties of life. 
 
 Plutarch had, before this, buried two of his sons, his eldest 
 son, and a younger named Charon; and it appears, from the 
 above-mentioned letter, that the conduct of Timoxena, on 
 these events, was worthy the wife of a philosopher. She did 
 not disfigure herself by change of apparel, or give way to the 
 extravagance of grief, as women in general do on such occa¬ 
 sions, but supported the dispensations of Providence with a 
 solemn and rational submission, even when they seemed to be 
 most severe. She had taken unwearied pains, and undergone 
 the greatest sufferings to nurse her son Charon at her own 
 oreast, at a time when an abscess, formed near the part, had 
 obliged her to undergo an incision; yet, when the child, rear¬ 
 ed with so much tender pain and difficulty, died, those who 
 Went to visit heron the melancholy occasion, found her house 
 in no more disorder than if nothing distressful had happened. 
 She received her fr.ends as Admetus entertained Hercules, 
 who, the same day that he buried Alceste, betrayed not the 
 east confusion before his heroic guest. 
 
LIFE OF PLUTARCH. 
 
 2 7 
 
 With a woman of so much dignity of mind and excellence 
 of disposition, a man of Plutarch’s wisdom and humanity must 
 have been infinitely happy; and, indeed, it appears from those 
 precepts of conjugal happiness and affection which he has left 
 us, that he has drawn his observations from experience, and 
 that the rules he recommended had been previously exempli¬ 
 fied in his own family. 
 
 It is said that Plutarch had some misunderstanding with his 
 wise’s relations; upon which Timoxena, fearing that it might 
 afff ct their union, had duty and religion enough to go as far 
 as Mount Helicon, and sacrifice to Love, who had a celebra 
 ted temple there. 
 
 He left two sons, Plutarch and Lamprias. The latter ap¬ 
 pears to have been a philosopher, and it is to him we are in¬ 
 debted for a catalogue of his father’s writings, which, how¬ 
 ever, one can not look upon, as Mr. Dryden says, without the 
 same emotions that a merchant must feel in perusing a bill of 
 freight, after he has lost his. vessel. The writings, no longer 
 extant, are these:— 
 
 The Lives of< 
 
 Hercules, 
 
 Hesiod, 
 
 Pindar, 
 
 Crates and Diaphantus, with a Parallel, 
 Leonidas, 
 
 Aristomenes, 
 
 Scipio Africanus, junior, and Metellus, 
 Augustus, 
 
 Tiberius, 
 
 Claudius, 
 
 Nero, 
 
 Caligula, 
 
 Vitellius, 
 
 Epaminondas and the Elder Scipio, with 
 Parallel. 
 
 Four Books of Commentaries on Homer. 
 
 Four Books of Commentaries on Hesiod. 
 
 Five Books to Empedocles, on the Quintessence. 
 Five Books of Essays. 
 
 Three Books of Fables. 
 
 Three Books of Rhetoric. 
 
 Three Books on the Introduction of the Soul. 
 Two Books of Extracts from the Philosophers. 
 Three Books on Sense. 
 
 Three Books on the great Actions of Cities. 
 
 Two Books on Politics. 
 
28 
 
 LIFE OF PLUTA11CH. 
 
 An Essay on Opportunity, to Theophrastus, 
 
 Four Books on the Obsolete Parts of History. 
 
 Two Books of Proverbs. 
 
 Eight Books on the Topics of Aristotle. 
 
 Three Books on Justice, to Chrysippus. 
 
 An Essay on Poetry. 
 
 A Dissertation on the Difference between the Pyrrhonians ajul 
 the Academicians. 
 
 A Treatise to prove that there was but one Academy of Plato. 
 
 Aulus Gellius has taken a long story from Taurus, about 
 Plutarch’s method of correcting a slave, in which there is no¬ 
 thing more than this, that he punished him like a philosopher, 
 and gave him his discipline without being out of temper. 
 
 Plutarch had a nephew named Sextus, who bore a consid¬ 
 erable reputation in the world of letters, and taught the Greek 
 language and learning to Marcus Antonius. The character 
 which that philosopher has given him, in his First Book ol 
 Reflections, may, with great propriety, be applied to his 
 uncle :— 66 Sextus, by his example, taught me mildness and 
 humanity; to govern my house like a good father of a family; 
 to fall into an easy and unaffected gravity of manners; to live 
 agreeably to nature; to find out the art of discovering and pre¬ 
 venting the wants of my friends; to connive at the noisy fol¬ 
 lies 'f the ignorant and impertinent; and to comply with the 
 understandings and the humours of men-” 
 
 One of the rewards of philosophy is long life; and it is clear 
 that Plutarch enjoyed this; but of the time, or the circum¬ 
 stances of his death, we have no satisfactory account. 
 
PLUTARCH’S LIVES 
 
 THE 
 
 LIFE OF THESEUS. 
 
 As geographers thrust into the extremities of their maps 
 those countries that are unknown to them, remarking at the 
 same time, that all beyond is hills of sand, and haunts of wild 
 beasts, frozen seas, marshes and mountains that are inaccessi¬ 
 ble to human courage or industry; so, in comparing the lives 
 of illustrious men, when I have past through those periods of 
 time which may be described witn probability, and where his¬ 
 tory may find firm footing in facts, I may say, my Senecio,* 
 of the remoter ages, that all beyond is full of prodigy and fic¬ 
 tion, the regions of poets and fabulists, wrapt in clouds, and 
 unworthy of belief, t Yet since I had given an account of 
 Lycurgus and Numa, I thought I might, without impropriety, 
 ascend to Romulus, as I had approached his times. But con¬ 
 sidering 
 
 Who, for the palm, in contest high shall join? 
 
 Or who in equal ranks shaT stand > 
 
 (as Aeschylus expresses it,) it appeared to me, that he who 
 peopled the beautiful and famed city of Athens, might be best 
 contrasted and compared with the father of the magnificent 
 and invincible Rome. Permit us then to take from Fable her 
 extravagance, and make her yield to, and accept the form of 
 History; but where she obstinately despises probability, and 
 refuses to mix with what is credible, we must implore the 
 
 * Sossius Senecio, a man of consular dignity, who flourished under Nerva 
 and Trajan, and to whom Pliny addressed some of his Epistles: not the Se- 
 necio put to death by Domitian. 
 
 f The wild fictions of the fabulous ages may partly be accounted for from 
 the genius of the writers, who, as Plutarch observes, were chiefly poets; 
 and partly from an affectation of something extraordinary or preternatural 
 in antiquity, which has generally prevailed, both in nations and families. 
 
30 
 
 THESEUS. 
 
 candour of our readers, and their kind allowance for the tales 
 of antiquity. 
 
 Theseus, then, appeared to answer to Romulus in many par 
 ticulars. Both were of uncertain parentage, born out of wed 
 lock; and both had the repute of being sprung from the gods 
 Both stood in the first rank of warriors; for both had great 
 powers of mind, with great strength of body. One was the 
 founder of Rome, and one peopled Athens, the most illustri¬ 
 ous cities in the world. Both carried off women by violence; 
 both were involved in domestic miseries, and exposed to 
 family resentment;* * * § and both, towards the end of their lives, 
 are said to have offended their respective citizens, if we may 
 believe what seems to be delivered with the least mixture of 
 poetical fiction. 
 
 The lineage of Theseus, by his father’s side, stretches to 
 Erectheus and the first inhabitants of his country;! by his 
 mother’s side to Pelops,! who was the most powerful of all 
 the Peloponnesian kings, not only on account of his great 
 opulence, but the number of his children; for he married his 
 daughters to persons of the first dignity, and found means to 
 place his sons at the head of the chief states. One of them, 
 named Pittheus, grandfather to Theseus, founded the small 
 city of Troezene, and was esteemed the most learned, and the 
 wisest man of his age. The essence of the wisdom of those 
 days consisted in such moral sentences as Hesiod§ is cele¬ 
 brated for in his Book of Works. One of these is ascribed 
 to Pittheus:— 
 
 Blast not the hope which friendship has conceived, 
 
 But fill its measure high. 
 
 *Oi>§Ef'£po$ 8s 8 v$v%lciv 7tepL oixsia xai vsy,s6w syysvrj 8is<pvysr. 
 
 *(* Theseus was the sixth in descent from Erectheus, or Ericthonius, said 
 to be the son of Vulcan and Minerva, or Cranae, granddaughter of Cranaus, 
 the second king of Athens; so that Plutarch very justly says, that Theseus 
 was descended from the Autocthones, or first inhabitants of Attica, who 
 were so called, because they pretended to be born in that very country. It 
 is generally allowed, however, that this kingdom was founded by Cecrops, 
 an Egyptian, who brought hither a colony of Saites, about the year of the 
 world 2448, before Christ 1556. The inhabitants of Attica, were, indeed, 
 a more ancient people than those of many other districts of Greece, which 
 being of a more fertile soil, often changed their masters, while few were am¬ 
 bitious of settling in a barren country. 
 
 t Pelops was the son of Tantalus, and of Phrygian extraction. He car¬ 
 ried with him immense riches into Peloponnesus, which he had dug out of 
 the mines of Mount Sypilus. By means of this wealth, he got the govern¬ 
 ment of the most considerable towns for his sons, and married his daughters 
 to princes. 
 
 § Hesiod flourished about five hundred years after Pittheus. Solomon 
 wrote his Moral Sentences two or tlu*ee hundred years after Pittheus. 
 
THESEUS, 
 
 31 
 
 This is confirmed by Aristotle. And Euripides, in saying 
 that Hippolytus was taught by u the sage and venerable Pit¬ 
 theus,” gives him a very honourable testimony. 
 
 iEgeus, wanting-to have children, is said to have received, 
 from the oracle at Delphi, that celebrated answer, which com¬ 
 manded him not to approach any woman before he returned 
 to Athens. But as the oracle seemed not to give him clear 
 instruction, he came toTroczene, and communicated it to Pit- 
 theus in the following terms:— 
 
 “ The mystic vessel shall untouch’d remain/* 
 
 Till in thy native realm.- 
 
 It is uncertain what Pittheus saw in this oracle; howevei, 
 either by persuasion or deceit, he drew iEgeus into conver¬ 
 sation with his daughter iEthra. iEgeus afterwards coming 
 to know that she whom he had lain with was Pittbeus’s daugh 
 ter, and suspecting her to be with child, hid a sword and a 
 pair of sandals under a large stone, which had a cavity for the 
 purpose. Before his departure, he told the secret to the prin¬ 
 cess only, and left orders, that if she brought forth a son, who, 
 when he came to a man’s estate, should be able to remove the 
 stone, and take away the things left under it, she should send 
 him with those tokens to him, with all imaginable privacy; for 
 he was very much afraid that some plot would be formed 
 against him by the Pallantidas, who despised him for his want 
 of children. These were fifty brothers, the sons of Pallas.* 
 
 iEthra was delivered of a son; and some say he was imme¬ 
 diately named Theseus,! because of the laying up of the to¬ 
 kens; others, that he received his name afterwards at Athens, 
 when iEgeus acknowledged him for his son. He was brought 
 up by Pittheus, and had a tutor named Connidas, to whom the 
 Athenians, even in our times, sacrifice a ram, on the day pre¬ 
 ceding the Thesean feasts, giving this honour to his memory 
 upon a much juster account than* that which they pay to Sila- 
 nion and Parrhasius, who only made statues and pictures of 
 Theseus. 
 
 * Pallas was brother to JEgeus; and as JEgeus was supposed to have no 
 children, the Pallantidae considered the kingdom of Athens as their undoubt¬ 
 ed inheritance. It was natural, therefore, for JEgeils to conclude, that if they 
 came to know he had a son, they would attempt to assassinate either him or 
 his son. 
 
 f The Greeks, as well as the Hebrews, gave names both to persons and 
 things from some event or circumstance attending that which they were to 
 name. The Greek word Thesis signifies laying up , and thesthai uion y to 
 acknowledge , or rather to adopt a son. iEgeus did both; the ceremony of 
 adoption being necessary to enable Theseus, who was not a legitimate son, 
 to inherit the crown. 
 
32 
 
 THESEUS. 
 
 As it was then the custom for such as had arrived at man s 
 estate, to go to Delphi to offer the first-fruits of their hair to 
 Apollo, Theseus went thither, and the place where this cere¬ 
 mony is performed, from him, is said to be yet called Thesea. 
 He shaved, however, only the fore-part oi his head, as Ho¬ 
 mer tells us the Abantes did;* and this kind of tonsure, on his 
 account, was called Theseis. The Abantes first cut their hair 
 in this manner, not in imitation of the Arabians, as some ima¬ 
 gine, nor yet of the Mysians, but because they were a war¬ 
 like people, who loved close fighting, and were more expert 
 m it than any other nation. Thus Archilochust— 
 
 These twang 1 not bows, nor sling the hissing stone. 
 
 When Mars exults, and fields with armies groan* 
 
 Far nobler skill Euboea’s sons display, 
 
 And with the thundering sword decide the fray. 
 
 That they might not, therefore, give advantage to their ene¬ 
 mies by their hair, they took care to cut it off. And we are 
 informed, that Alexander of Macedon, having made the same 
 observation, ordered his Macedonian troops to cut off their 
 beards, these beinga ready handle in battle. 
 
 For some time AEthra declared not the real father of The¬ 
 seus; but the report propagated by Pittheus was that he was 
 the son of Neptune; for the Troezenians principally worship 
 that god: he is the patron of their city; to him they offer their 
 first-fruits; and their money bears the impression of a trident 
 Theseus, in his youth discovering not only great strength of 
 body, but firmness and solidity of mind, together with a large 
 share of undei standing and prudence, iEthra led him to the 
 stone, and having told him the truth concerning his origin, 
 ordered him to take up his father’s tokens, and sail to Athens. 
 He easily removed the stone, but refused to go by sea, though 
 he might have done it with great safety, and though he was 
 pressed to it by the entreaties of his grandfather and mother; 
 while it was hazardous, at that time, to go by land to Athens, 
 because no part was free from the danger of ruffians and rob¬ 
 bers. Those times, indeed, produced men of strong and in¬ 
 defatigable powers of body, of extraordinary swiftness and 
 agility; but they applied those powers to nothing just or use¬ 
 ful. On the contrary, their genius, their disposition, their 
 
 * The Abantes were the inhabitants of Euboea, but originally of Abae, a 
 t jwn in Thrace. 
 
 j- Archilochus was a Greek poet, who lived about the time of Romulus. 
 Homer had given the same account of the Abantes above three hundred 
 years before; for, in the second book of the Iliad, he tells us, the Abantes 
 pierced the breast-plates of their enemies with extended spears or pikes; thal 
 is to say, they fought hand to hand. 
 
THESEUS. 
 
 S3 
 
 pleasures, tended only to insolence, to violence, and to rapine. 
 As for modesty, justice, equity, and humanity, they looked 
 upon them as qualities in which those who had h in their 
 power to add to their possessions, had no manner oi concern; 
 virtues praised only by such as were afraid of being injured, 
 and who abstained from injuring others out of the same prin¬ 
 ciple of fear. Some of these ruffians were cut off by Hercules 
 in his peregrinations, while others escaped to their lurking 
 holes, and were spared by the hero in contempt of their cow¬ 
 ardice. But when Hercules had unfortunately killed Iphitus, 
 he retired to Lydia, where, for a long time, he was a slave to 
 Omphale,* a punishment which he imposed upon himself for 
 the murder. The Lydians then enjoyed great quiet and se¬ 
 curity; but in Greece the same kind of enormities broke out 
 anew, there being no one to restrain or quell them. It was 
 therefore extremely dangerous to travel by land from Pelo¬ 
 ponnesus to Athens; and Pittheus, acquainting Theseus with 
 the number of these ruffians, and with their cruel treatment of 
 strangers, advised him to go by sea. But he had long secretly 
 been fired with the glory of Hercules, whom he held in the 
 highest esteem, listening with great attention to such as re¬ 
 lated his achievements, particularly to those that had seen him, 
 conversed with him, and had been witnesses to his prowess. 
 He was affected in the same manner as Themistocles after¬ 
 wards was, when he declared that the trophies of Miltiades 
 would not suffer him to sleep. The virtues of Hercules were 
 his dream by night, and by day emulation led him out, and 
 spurred him on to perform some exploits like his. Besides, 
 they were nearly related, being born of cousin-germans, for 
 iEthra was the daughter of Pittheus, and Alcmena of Lysi- 
 dice, and Pittheus and Lysidice were brother and sister by 
 Pelops and Hippodamia. He considered it, therefore, as an 
 insupportable dishonour, that Hercules should traverse both 
 sea and land to clear them of these villains, while he himself 
 declined such adventures as occurred to him; disgracing his 
 reputed father, if he took his voyage, or rather flight by sea; 
 and carrying to his real father a pair of sandals and a sword 
 mstained with blood, instead of the ornament of great and 
 good actions, to assert and add lustre to his noble birth. With 
 such thoughts and resolutions as these he set forward, deter¬ 
 mining to injure no one, but to take vengeance of such as 
 should offer him any violence. 
 
 He was first attacked by Periphetes, in Epidauria, whose 
 
 * Those who had been guilty of murder, became voluntary exiles and im¬ 
 posed on themselves a certain penance, which they continued till they 
 thought their crime expiated. 
 
 V'ol. r -Cl 5 
 
$4 
 
 THESEUS. 
 
 weapon was a club, and who, on that account, was called Co* 
 rynetes, or the Club-bearer. He engaged with him, and slew 
 him. Delighted with the club, he took it for his weapon, and 
 used it as Hercules did the lion’s skin. The skin was a proof 
 of the vast size of the wild beast which that hero had slain; 
 and Theseus carried about with him this club, whose stroke 
 he had been able to parry, but which, in his hand, was irre¬ 
 sistible. In the Isthmus he slew Sinnis the Pine-bender,* in 
 the same manner as he had destroyed many others; and this he 
 did, not as having learned or practised the bending of those 
 trees, but to show that natural strength is above all art. Sinnis 
 had a daughter remarkable for her beauty and stature, named 
 Perigune, who had concealed herself when her father was 
 killed. Theseus made diligent search for her, and found at 
 last that she had retired into a place overgrown with shrubs, 
 and rushes, and wild as, iaragus. In her childish simplicity, 
 she addressed her prayej > and vows to these plants and bushes, 
 as if they could have a s ense of her misfortune, promising, if 
 they would save and hide her, that she would never burn or 
 destroy them. But when Theseus pledged his honour for 
 treating her politely, she came to him, and in due time brought 
 him a son named Melanippus. Afterwards, by Theseus’s per¬ 
 mission, she married Dei'oneus, the son of Eurytusthe CEcha 
 lian. Melanippus had a son named Ioxus, who joined with 
 Ornytus in planting a colony in Caria; whence the Ioxides; 
 with v/hom it is an inviolable rule, not to burn either rushes 
 or wild asparagus, but to honour and worship them. 
 
 About this time Crommyon was infested by a wild sow 
 named Phaea, a fierce and formidable creature. This savage 
 he attacked and killed,! going out of his way to engage her 
 and thereby showing an act of voluntary valour; for he be¬ 
 lieved it equally became a brave man to stand upon his de¬ 
 fence against abandoned ruffians, and to seek out, and begin 
 the combat with strong and savage animals. But some say, 
 that Phaea was an abandoned female robber, who dwelt in 
 Crommyon; that she had the name of Sow from her life and 
 manners; and was afterwards slain by Theseus. 
 
 On the borders of Megara he‘destroyed Sciron, a robber, 
 by casting him headlong from a precipice, as the story gene¬ 
 rally goes; and it is added, that in wanton villany, this Sciron 
 used to make strangers wash his feet, and to take those oppor 
 
 * Sinnis was so called from his bending* the heads of two pines, and tying 
 passengers between the opposite branches, which by their sudden return, 
 tore them to pieces. 
 
 f In this instance our hero deviated from the principle he set out upoiij 
 which was never to be the aggressor in any engagement. The wild sow 
 was certainly no less respectable an animal than the pine-bender. 
 
THESEUS. 
 
 35 
 
 turn ties to push them into the sea. But the writers of Me- 
 gara, in contradiction to this report, and, as Simonides ex¬ 
 presses it, fighting with all antiquity, asserts, that Sciron was 
 neither a robber nor a ruffian, but, on the contrary, a destroyer 
 of robbers, and a man whose heart and house were ever open 
 to the good and the honest. For iEacus, say they, was looked 
 upon as the justest man in Greece, Cychreus of Salamis had 
 divine honours paid him at Athens, and the virtue of Peleus 
 aid Telamon too was universally known. Now, Sciron was 
 son-in-law to Cychreus, father-in-law to iEacus, and grand¬ 
 father to Peleus and Telamon, who were both of them sons of 
 Endeis, the daughter of Sciron and Chariclo; therefore, it was 
 not probable that the best of men should make such alliances 
 with one of so vile a character, giving and receiving the 
 greatest and dearest pledges. Besides, they tell us, that The¬ 
 seus did not slay Sciron in his first journey to Athens, but 
 afterwards, when he took Eleusis from the Megarensians 
 having expelled Diodes, its chief magistrate, by a stratagem. 
 In such contradictions are these things involved. 
 
 At Eleusis he engaged in wrestling with Cercyon the Arca¬ 
 dian, and killed him on the spot. Proceeding to Hermione,* 
 lie put a period to the cruelties of Damastes, sirnamed Pro¬ 
 crustes, making his body fit the size of his own beds, as he 
 had served strangers. These things he did in imitation of 
 Hercules, who always returned upon the aggressors the same 
 sort of treatment which they intended for him; for that hero 
 sacrificed Busiris, killed Antaeus in wrestling, Cygnus in sin¬ 
 gle combat, and broke the skull of Termerus; whence this is 
 called the Termerian mischief; for Termerus, it seems, destroy¬ 
 ed the passengers he met, by dashing his head against theirs. 
 Thus Theseus pursued his travels, to punish abandoned 
 wretches, who suffered the same kind of death from him that 
 they inflicted on others, and were requited with vengeance 
 suitable to their crimes. 
 
 In his progress he came to the Cephisus, where he was first 
 saluted by some of the Phytalidae.t Upon his desire to have 
 the customary purifications, they gave him them in due form, 
 and having offered propitiatory sacrifices, invited him to their 
 houses. This was the first hospitable treatment he met with 
 
 * This seems to be a mistake; for we know of no place called Harmione, 
 or Hermione, between Eleusis and Athens. Pausanias calls it Erione; and 
 the authors of the Universal History, after Philocorus, call it Termione. 
 
 f These were the descendants of Phytalus, with whom Ceres intrusted the 
 superintendence of her holy mysteries, in recompense for the hospitality 
 with which she hod been treated at his house. Theseus thought himself 
 unfit to be admitted to those mysteries without expiation, because he had 
 slipped his hands in blood, though it was only that of thieves and robbers. 
 
36 
 
 THESEUS. 
 
 on the road. He is said to have arrived at Athens on the 
 eighth day of the month Cronius, which they now called He- 
 catomboeon (July). There he found the state full of troubles 
 and distraction, and the family of iEgeus in great disorder, 
 for Medea, who had fled from Corinth, promised, by her art, 
 to enable AEgeus to have children, and was admitted to his 
 bed- She first discovering Theseus, whom as yet iEgeus did 
 not know, persuaded him, now in years, and full of jealousies 
 ind suspicions, on account of the faction that prevailed in the 
 fity, to prepare an entertainment for him as a stranger, and 
 cake him off by poison. Theseus, coming to the banquet, did 
 not intend to declare himself first, but, willing to give his fa¬ 
 ther occasion to find him out, when the meat was served up, he 
 drew his sword,* as if he designed to carve with it, and took 
 care it should attract his notice. iEgeus quickly perceiving 
 it, dashed down the cup of poison, and, after some questions, 
 embraced him as his son; then assembling the people, he ac¬ 
 knowledged him also before them, who received him with 
 great satisfaction, on account of his valour. The cup is said 
 to have fallen, and the poison to have been spilt, where the 
 enclosure now is, in the place called Delphinium; for there it 
 was that iEgeus dwelt; and the Mercury which stands on 
 the east side of the temple, is yet called the Mercury of 
 ZEgeus’s gate. 
 
 The Pallantidae, who hoped to recover the kingdom, if 
 ZEgeus died childless, lost all patience when Theseus was de 
 dared his successor. Exasperated at the thought that AEgeus, 
 who was not in the least allied to the Erechthidse, but only 
 adopted by Pandion,t should first gain the crown, and after¬ 
 wards Theseus, who was an emigrant and a stranger, they 
 prepared for war; and dividing their forces, one party marched 
 openly, with their father, from Sphettus to the city; and the 
 other concealing themsel ves in Gargettus, lay in ambush, with 
 a design to attack the enemy from two several quarters. They 
 had with them a herald, named Leos, of the tribe of Agnus. 
 This man carried to Theseus an account of all the designs of 
 the Pallantidae; and he immediately fell upon those that lay in 
 ambush, and destroyed them. Pallas and his company being 
 informed of this, thought fit to disperse. Hence it is said to 
 be, that the tribe of Pallene never intermarry with the Ag- 
 
 * Some needless learning* has been adduced to show, that in the heroic 
 times they carved with a cutlass or larg*e knife, and not with a sword; and 
 that, consequently, Plutarch here must certainly be mistaken; but as 
 signifies either a cutlass or a sword, how do we know that it was a sword, 
 and not a cutlass, which JEg’eus hid under the stone ? 
 
 ■f It has been actually reported, that iEg*eus was not the son of Pandion* 
 but of Scyfias. 
 
THESEUS. 
 
 37 
 
 nusians, nor suffer any proclamation to begin with these words, 
 Moueie Leoi , (Hear, 0 ye people-) for they hate the very 
 name of Leos, on account of the treachery of that herald. 
 
 Theseus, desirous to keep himself in action, and at the same 
 time courting the favour of the people, went against the Mara- 
 thonian bull, which did no small mischief to the inhabitants 
 of Tetrapolis. When he had taken him, he brought him alive 
 in triumph through the city, and afterwards sacrificed him to* 
 the Delphinian Apollo. Hecale also, and the story of her re¬ 
 ceiving and entertaining Theseus, does not appear destitute 
 of all foundation; for the people in that neighbourhood assem¬ 
 ble to perform the Hecalesian rites to Jupiter Hecalus; they 
 honour Hecale too, calling her by the diminutive, Hecalene, 
 because, when she entertained Theseus while he was but a 
 youth, she caressed him as persons in years used to do chil¬ 
 dren, and called him by such tender diminutive names. She 
 vowed, moreover, when he went to battle, to offer sacrifices 
 to Jupiter, if he returned safe; but as she died before the end 
 of the expedition, Theseus performed those holy rites in tes¬ 
 timony of the grateful sense he had of her hospitality. So 
 Philochorus relates the story. * 
 
 Not long after, there came the third time from Crete the 
 collectors of the tribute, exacted on the following occasion. 
 Androgeust being treacherously slain in Attica, a very fatal 
 war was carried on against that country by Minos, and divine 
 vengeance laid it waste; for it was visited by famine and pes¬ 
 tilence, and want of water increased their misery. The re¬ 
 medy that Apollo proposed, was that they should appease Mi¬ 
 nos, and be reconciled to him; whereupon the wrath of heaven 
 would cease, and their calamities come to a period. In con¬ 
 sequence of this, they sent amoassadors with their submission; 
 and, as most writers agree; engaged themselves, by treaty, to 
 send every ninth year a tribute of seven young men, and as 
 many virgins. When these were brought into Crete, the 
 fabulous account informs us, that they were destroyed by the 
 Minotaurf in the labyrinth, or that, lost in its mazes, and 
 
 * Philochorus was an Athenian historian, who flourished in the reign of 
 Ptolemy Philopater, about two hundred years before the birth of our Savicur 
 He wrote many valuable pieces, of which nothing remains but some frag¬ 
 ments preserved by other writers. 
 
 f Some say iEgeus caused him to be murdered, because he was in the 
 interest of the Pallantidx: others, that he was killed by the Marathonian 
 
 bull. 
 
 + Feigned by the poets to have been begot by a bull upon Pasiphae, 
 Minos’s queen, who was inspired, it seems, with this horrid passion by Nep 
 tune, in revenge for Minos’s refusing him a beautiful bull, which he expert 
 ed as an offering. 
 
 />* 
 
38 
 
 THESEUS. 
 
 unable to find the way out, they perished there. The Mino- 
 f aur was, as Euripides tells us, 
 
 A mingled form, prodigious to behold. 
 
 Half bull, half man! 
 
 But Philochorus says the Cretans deny this, and w;'l not al¬ 
 low the labyrinth to have been any thing but a prison, which 
 had no other inconvenience than this, that those who were 
 confined there could not escape; and Minos having instituted 
 games in honour of Androgeus, the prize for the victors was 
 those youths, who had been kept till that time in the labyrinth. 
 He that first won the prizes in those games, was a person of 
 great authority in the court of Minos, and general of his ar¬ 
 mies, named Taurus, who being unmerciful and savage in his 
 nature, had treated the Athenian youths with great insolence 
 and cruelty. And it is plain that Aristotle himself, in his ac¬ 
 count of the Bottioean government, does not suppose that the 
 young men were put to death by Minos, but that they lived, 
 some of them to old age, in servile employments in Crete. 
 He adds, that the Cretans, in pursuance of an ancient vow, 
 once sent a number of their first-born to Delphi, among whom 
 were some of the descendants of these Athenian slaves, who 
 not being able to support themselves there, first passed from 
 thence into Italy, where they settled about Iapygia; and from 
 thence they removed again into Thrace, and were called Bot- 
 ticeans. Wherefore the Bottioean \irgins, in some solemnities 
 of religion, sing—“ To Athens let us go.” And, indeed, it 
 seems dangerous to be at enmity with a city which is the seat 
 of eloquence and learning; for Minos always was satirized on 
 the Athenian stage; nor was his fame sufficiently rescued by 
 Hesiod’s calling him “ Supreme of Kings,” or Homer’s say¬ 
 ing, that he conversed with Jove;” for the writers of tragedy 
 prevailing, represented him as a man of vicious character,* 
 violent and implacable; yet, inconsistently enough, they say 
 that Minos was a king and a lawgiver, and that Rhadamanthus 
 was an upright judge, and guardian of the laws which Minos 
 had made. 
 
 When the time of the third tribute came, and those parents 
 who had sons not arrived at full maturity, were obliged to re¬ 
 sign them to the lot, complaints against iEgeus sprung up 
 again among the people, who expressed their grief and resent¬ 
 ment, that he who was the cause of all their misfortunes, bore 
 
 * This is a mistake into which Plutarch and several other writers have 
 fallen. There were two of the name of Minos; one was the son of Jupiter 
 and Europa, and a just and exellent prince; the other his grandson, and 9on 
 of I ,y caster, was a t3Tant. 
 
THESEUS. 
 
 39 
 
 nc> part of the punishment, and while he was adopting, and 
 raising to the succession, a stranger of spurious birth, took no 
 thought for them who lost their legitimate children. Those 
 things were matter of great concern to Theseus, who, to ex¬ 
 press his regard for justice, and take his share in the common 
 fortune, voluntarily offered himself as one of the seven, without 
 lot. The citizens were charmed with this proof of his mag- 
 nanimity and public spirit; and iEgeus himself, when he saw 
 that no entreaties or persuasions availed to turn him from it, 
 gave out the lots for the rest of the young men. But Hel- 
 linachus says, that the youths and virgins which the city fur¬ 
 nished, were not chosen by lot, but that Minos came in per¬ 
 son and selected them, and Theseus before the rest, upon 
 these conditions:—That the Athenians should furnish a ves¬ 
 sel, and the young men embark and sail along with him, but 
 carry no arms; and that if they could kill the Minotaur, there 
 should be an end of the tribute. There appearing no hopes of 
 safety for the youths in the two former tributes, they sent out 
 a ship with the black sail, as carrying them to certain ruin. 
 But when Theseus encouraged his father by his confidence of 
 success against the Minotaur, he gave another sail, a white 
 one, to the pilot, ordering him, if he brought Theseus safe 
 back, to hoist the white; but if not, to sail with the black one 
 in token of his misfortune. Simonides, however, tells us, that 
 it was not a white sail which iEgeus gave, but a scarlet one, 
 dyed with the juice of the flower of a very flourishing holm 
 oak,* and that this was to be the signal that all was well. He 
 adds, that Phereclus, the son of Amarsyas, was pilot of the 
 ship; but Philochorus says, that Theseus had a pilot sent him 
 by Sciras, from Salamis, named Nausitheus, and one Phseax 
 to be at the prow, because as yet the Athenians had not applied 
 themselves to navigation;! and that Sciras did this, because 
 one of the young men, named Menesthes, was his daughters 
 son. This is confirmed by the monuments of Nausitheus and 
 Phaeax, built by Theseus, at Phalerum, near the temple of 
 Sciron; and the feast called Cybernesia, or the Pilot’s Feast, 
 is said to be kept in honour of them. 
 
 When the lots where cast, Theseus taking with him, out of 
 the Prytaneum, those upon whom they fell, went to the Del¬ 
 phi nian temple, and made an offering to Apollo for them. This 
 offering was a brancn of consecrated olive, bound about with 
 
 * It is not the flower, but the fruit of the ilex, full of little worms which 
 the Arabians call Kermes, from which a scarlet (lye is procured. 
 
 f The Athenians, according* to Homer, sent fifty ships to Troy; but those 
 were only transport ships. Thucydides assures us, that they did not begin 
 to make any figure at sea till ten or twelve years after the battle of Mara* 
 then, near seven hundred years after the siege cf Troy. 
 
10 
 
 THESEUS. 
 
 white wool. Having paid his devotions, he embarked on the 
 sixth of April; at which time they still sent the virgins to Del¬ 
 phinium to propitiate the god. It was reported that the ora 
 cle at Delphi commanded him to take Venus for his guide, and 
 entreat her to be his companion in the voyage; and when he 
 sacrificed to her a she-goat on the sea-shore, its sex was im¬ 
 mediately changed; hence the goddess had the name of Epi- 
 ‘a. 
 
 When he arrived in Crete, according to most historians and 
 poets, Ariadne, falling in love with him, gave him a clue of 
 thread, and instructed him how to pass with it through the in¬ 
 tricacies of the labyrinth. Thus assisted, he killed the Mi* 
 notaur, and then set sail, carrying off Ariadne, together with 
 the young men; Pherecydes says, that Theseus broke up the 
 keels of the Cretan ships, to prevent their pursuit. But, as 
 Demon has it, he killed Taurus, Minos’s commander, who en¬ 
 gaged him in the harbour, just as he was ready to sail out 
 Again, according to Philochorus, when Minos celebrated the 
 games in honour of his son, it was believed that Taurus would 
 bear away the prizes in them as formerly; and every one 
 grudged him that honour; for his excessive power and haugh¬ 
 ty behaviour were intolerable; and, besides, he was accused 
 of too great a familiarity with Pasiphae; therefore, when The¬ 
 seus desired the combat, Minos permitted it. In Crete it was 
 the custom for the women, as well as the men, to see the 
 games; and Ariadne, being present, was struck with the per 
 son of Theseus, and with his superior vigour and address in 
 the wrestling-ring. Minos too was greatly delighted, espe¬ 
 cially when he saw Taurus vanquished and disgraced, and 
 this induced him to give up the young men to Theseus, and to 
 remit the tribute. Clidemus, beginning higher, gives a prolix 
 account of these matters, according to his manner. There was, 
 it seems, a decree throughout all Greece, that no vessel should 
 sail with more than five hands, except the Argo commanded 
 by Jason, who was appointed to clear the sea of pirates. But 
 when Daedalus escaped by sea to Athens, Minos, pursuing 
 him with his men of war, contrary to the decree, was driven 
 by a storm to Sicily, and there ended his life. And when 
 Deucalion, his successor, pursuing his father’s quarrels with 
 the Athenians, demanded that they should deliver up Daeda¬ 
 lus, and threatened, if they did not, to make way with the 
 hostages that Minos had received, Theseus gave him a mild 
 answer, alleging that Daedalus was his relation, nearly allied 
 in blood, being son to Merope, the daughter of Ereetheus 
 But privately he prepared a fleet, part of it among the Thy- 
 maetadae, at a distance from any public road, and part under 
 the direction of Pittheus, at Troezene. When it was readv* he 
 
THESEUS. 
 
 4! 
 
 set sail, taking Bsedalus, and the rest of the fugitives fro in 
 Crete for his guide. The Cretans receiving no information ot 
 the matter, and when they saw his fleet, taking them for friends 
 he easily gained the harbour, and making a descent, proceed 
 ed immediately to Gnossus. There he engaged with Deucalion 
 and his guards, before the gates of the labyrinth, and slew 
 theix- The government by this means falling to Ariadne 
 he entered into an agreement with her, by which he received 
 the young captives, and made a perpetual league between the 
 Athenians and the Cretans, both sides swearing to proceed to 
 hostilities no more. 
 
 There are many other reports about these things, and as 
 many concerning Ariadne, but none of any certainty. Foi 
 some say, that being deserted by Theseus she hanged herself, 
 others, that she was carried by the mariners to Naxos, and 
 there married Onarus, the priest of Bacchus, Theseus having 
 left her for another mistress:— 
 
 For JEgle’s charms had pierc’d the hero’s heart. 
 
 Whereas the Megarensian tells us, that Pisistratus struck the 
 line out of Hesiod; as, on the contrary, to gratify the Athe¬ 
 nians, he added this other to Homer’s description of the state 
 of the dead: — 
 
 The God-like Theseus and the great Pirithous. 
 
 Some say Ariadne had two sons by Theseus, CEnopion and 
 Staphylus. With these agrees Ion of Chios, who says of his 
 native city, that it was built by CEnopion, the son of Theseus. 
 
 But the most striking passages of the poets, relative to those 
 things, are in every body’s mouth. Something more particu¬ 
 lar is delivered by Paeon the Amathusian. He relates, that 
 Theseus, being driven by a storm to Cyprus; and having with 
 him Ariadne, who was big with child, and extremely discom 
 
 I iosed with the agitation of the sea, he set her on shore, and 
 eft her alone, while he returned to take care of the ship; but 
 by a violent wind was forced out again to sea; that the women 
 of the country received Ariadne kindly, consoled her under 
 her loss, and brought her feigned letters as from Theseus; that 
 they attended and assisted her, when she fell in labour; and, 
 as she died in child-bed, paid her the funeral honours; that 
 Theseus, on his return, greatly afflicted at the news, left mo¬ 
 ney with the inhabitants, ordering them to pay divine honours 
 to Ariadne; and that he caused two little statues of her to be 
 made, one of silver, and the other of brass; that they cele¬ 
 brated her festival on the second of September, when a young 
 man lies down, and imitates the cries and gesture of a woman 
 Vol. i.-H 
 
42 
 
 THESEUS. 
 
 ill travail; and that the Amathusians call the grove in which 
 they show her tomb, the grove of Venus Ariadne. 
 
 Some of the Naxian writers relate, that there were two Mi- 
 noses, and two Ariadnes; one of which was married to Bac¬ 
 chus in Naxos, and had a son named Staphylus; the other, of 
 a later age, being carried off by Theseus, and afterwards de 
 serted, came to Naxos, with her nurse Corcyne, whose tomb 
 is still shown. That this Ariadne died there, and had differ¬ 
 ent honours paid her from the former; for the feasts of one 
 were celebrated with mirth and revels, while the sacrifices of 
 the other were mixed with sorrow and mourning. * 
 
 Theseus, in his return from Crete, put in at Delos ;t and 
 having sacrificed to Apollo, and dedicated a statue of Venus, 
 which he received from Ariadne, he joined with the young 
 men in a dance, which the Delians are said to practise at this 
 day. It consists in an imitation of the mazes and outlets of 
 the labyrinth, and, with various involutions and evolutions, is 
 performed in regular time. This kind of dance, as Dicaear- 
 chus informs us, is called by the Delians the Crane. J He 
 danced it round the altar Keraton, which was built entirely of 
 the left-side horns of beasts. He is also said to have insti¬ 
 tuted games in Delos, where he began the custom of giving a 
 palm to the victors. 
 
 When they drew near to Attica, both Theseus and the pilot 
 were so transported with joy, that they forgot to hoist the sail 
 which was to be the signal to iEgeus of their safety; who, 
 therefore, in despair, threw himself from the rock, and was 
 dashed to pieces. Theseus disembarked, and performed those 
 sacrifices to the gods which he had vowed at Phalerum, when 
 he set sail, and sent a herald to the city, with an account of his 
 safe return. The messenger met with numbers, lamenting 
 the fate of the king, and others rejoicing, as it was natural to 
 expect, at the return of Theseus, welcoming him with the 
 greatest kindness, and ready to crown him with flowers for 
 his good news. He received the chaplets, and twined them 
 round his herald’s staff. Returning to the sea-shore, and find¬ 
 ing that Theseus had not yet finished his libations, he stopped 
 without, not choosing to disturb the sacrifice. When the li¬ 
 bations were over, he announced the death of Aegeus. Upon 
 this, they hastened, with sorrow and tumultuous lamenta- 
 
 * The feasts of Ariadne, the wife of Bacchus, were celebrated with joy, lu 
 denote that she was become a divinity; those of the other Ariadne signified 
 that she fell like a mere mortal. 
 
 j- Hence came the custom of sending* annually a deputation from Athens t« 
 Delos, to sacrifice to Apollo. 
 
 t This dance, Callimachus tells us, was a particular one; and probably it 
 was called the Crane, because cranes commonly fly in the figure of a circle. 
 
THESEUS. 
 
 43 
 
 faons, to the city. Hence they tell us, it is, that, in the Os* 
 chophoria, or Feast of Boughs, to this day the herald is not 
 crowned, but his staff; and those who are present at the liba¬ 
 tions cry out, Eleleu! Iou , Iou /* The former is the exclamation 
 of haste and triumph, and the latter of trouble and confusion. 
 Theseus, having buried his father, paid his vows to Apollo on 
 the seventh of October; for on that day they arrived safe at 
 Athens. The boiling of all sorts of pulse at that time is said 
 to take its rise from their mixing the remains of their provi¬ 
 sions, when they found themselves safe ashore, boiling them 
 in one pot, and feasting upon them all together. In that feast 
 they also carry a branch bound about with wool, such as they 
 then made use of in their supplications, which they call Eire- 
 sione, laden with all sorts of fruits; and, to signify the ceas¬ 
 ing of scarcity at that time, they sing this strain:— 
 
 The golden ear, th’ ambrosial hive. 
 
 In fair Eiresione thrive. 
 
 See the juicy figs appear! 
 
 Olives crown the wealthy year! 
 
 See the cluster-bending vine! 
 
 See, and drink, and drop supine! 
 
 Some pretend that this ceremony is retained in memory of 
 the Heraclidae,t who were entertained in that manner by the 
 Athenians; but the greater part relate it as above delivered. 
 
 The vessel in which Theseus sailed, and returned safe, with 
 those young men, went with thirty oars. It was preserved 
 by the Athenians to the times of Demetrius Phalereus;J being 
 so pieced and new framed with strong plank, that it afforded 
 an example to the philosophers, in their disputations concern 
 ing the identity of things that are changed by growth; som 
 contending that it was the same, and others that it was not. 
 
 The feast called Oschophoria,§ which the Athenians still 
 
 * FAeleu denotes the joy and precipitation with which Theseus marched 
 towards Athens; and Iou, iou, his sorrow for the death of his father. 
 
 f The descendants of Hercules, being driven out of Peloponnesus and all 
 Greece, applied to the Athenians for their protection, which was granted; 
 and as they went as suppliants, they went with branches in their hands. 
 Tliis subject is treated by Euripides in his Heraclidae. 
 
 t That is near 1000 years; for Theseus returned from Crete about the year 
 before Christ 1235, and Callimachus, who was contemporary with Deme¬ 
 trius, and who tells us the Athenians continued to send tliis ship to Delos 
 in his time, flourished about the year before Christ 280. 
 
 . § This ceremony was performed in the following manner:—They made 
 choice of a certain number of youths of the most noble families in each tribe, 
 whose fathers and mothers both were living. They bore vine-branches in 
 their hands, with grapes upon them, and ran from the temple of Bacchus to 
 that of Minerva Sciradia, which was near the Phalerean gate. He that a*'- 
 
14 
 
 THESEUS. 
 
 ;elebrate, was then first instituted by Theseus. For he did 
 not take with him all the virgins upon whom the lot had fall¬ 
 en, but selected two young men ot his acquaintance who had 
 feminine and florid aspects, but were not wanting in spirit and 
 presence of mind. These, by warm bathing, and keeping 
 them out of the sun, by providing unguents for their hair and 
 complexions, and every thing necessary for their dress, by 
 forming their voice, their manner, and their step, he so effec¬ 
 tually altered, that they passed among the virgins designed 
 for Crete, and no one could discern the difference. 
 
 At his return, he walked in procession with the same young 
 men dressed in the manner of those who now carry the branch¬ 
 es. These arc carried in honour of Bacchus and Ariadne, 
 on account of the story before related; or rather because they 
 returned at the time of gathering ripe fruits. The Deipno- 
 phorae, (women who carry the provisions,) bear a part in the 
 solemnity, and have a share in the sacrifice, to represent the 
 mothers of those upon whom the lots fell, who brought their 
 children provisions for the voyage. Fables and tales are the 
 chief discourse, because the women then told their children 
 stories to comfort them and keep up their spirits. These par¬ 
 ticulars are taken from the history of Demon. There was a 
 place consecrated, and a temple erected to Theseus; and those 
 families which would have been liable to the tribute, in case 
 it had continued, were obliged to pay a tax to the temple for 
 sacrifices. These were committed to the care of the Phy- 
 talidse, Theseus doing them that honour in recompense of 
 their hospitality. 
 
 After the death of iEgeus, he undertook and effected a 
 prodigious work. He settled all the inhabitants of Attica in 
 Athens, and made them one people in one city, who before 
 were scattered up and down, and could with difficulty be as¬ 
 sembled on any pressing occasion for the public good. Nay, 
 often such differences had happened between them as ended in 
 bloodshed. The method he took was to apply to them in par¬ 
 ticular by their tribes and families. Private persons and the 
 
 1 )oor easily listened to his summons. To the rich and great 
 le represented the advantage of a government without a king, 
 where the chief power should be in the people, while he him¬ 
 self only desired to command in war, and to be the guardian 
 
 rived there first drank off a cup of wine mingled with honey, cheese, meal, 
 and oil. They were followed by a chorus conducted by two \ oung men 
 dressed in women’s apparel, the chorus singing a song in praise of those 
 young men. Certain women, with baskets on their heads, attended them, 
 and were chosen for that office from among the most wealthy of the citizens. 
 The whole procession was headed by a herald, bearing a staff encircled 
 with b(uighs. 
 
THESEUS. 
 
 4£ 
 
 of the laws; in all the rest every one would be upon an equal 
 fooling. Part of them hearkened to his persuasions; and 
 others, fearing his power, which was already very great, as 
 well as his enterprising spirit, chose rather to be persuaded, 
 than to be forced to submit. Dissolving, therefore, the cor¬ 
 porations, the councils, and courts in each particular town, he 
 built one common Prytaneum and court-hall, where it stands 
 to this day. The citadel, with its dependencies, and the city, 
 or the old and new town, he united under the common name 
 of Athens, and instituted the Panathensea as a common sacri¬ 
 fice.* He appointed also the Metoecia, or feast of Migration,! 
 and fixed it to the sixteenth of July, and so it still continues. 
 Giving up the kingly power, as he had promised, he settled 
 the commonwealth under the auspices of the gods; for he con¬ 
 sulted the Oracle at Delphi concerning his new government, 
 •and received this answer:— 
 
 From royal stems thy honour, Theseus springs; 
 
 By Jove beloved, the sire supreme of kings. 
 
 See rising 1 towns, see wide-extended state's. 
 
 On thee dependent, ask their future fates! 
 
 Hence, hence with fear! Thy favoured bark shall ride 
 
 Safe o’er the surges of the foamy tide!f 
 
 With this agrees the Sibyl’s prophecy, which, we are told, 
 she delivered long after, concerning Athens.— 
 
 The bladder may be dipp’d but neve? drown’d. 
 
 Desiring yet farther to enlarge Lie city, he invited all stran¬ 
 gers to equal privileges in it; and the words still in use, 
 
 * The Athenxa were celebrated before, in honour of the goddess Minerva, 
 but as that was a feast peculiar to the city of Athens, Theseus enlarged it, 
 and made it common to all the inhabitants of Attica; and therefore it was 
 called Panathenaea. There were the greater and the less Panathenaca. 
 The less were kept annually, and the greater every fifth year. In the lat¬ 
 ter, they carried, in procession the mysterious peplum , or veil of Minerva; 
 on which were embroidered the victory of the gods over the giants, and the 
 most remarkable achievements of their heroes. 
 
 f In memory of their quitting the boroughs, and uniting in one city. 
 
 On this occasion, he likewise instituted, or at least restored, the famous 
 Isthmian games, in honour of Neptune. All these were chiefly designed to 
 draw a concourse of strangers; and, as a farther encouragement for them to 
 corner and settle in Athens, he gave them the privileges of natives. 
 
 + In the original it is, “ Safe like a bladder,” &c. When Sylla had taken 
 Athens, and exercised all manner of cruelties there, some Athenians went 
 to Delphi, to inquire of the oracle, whether the last hour of their city was 
 come* and the priestess, according to Pausanias, made answer, Tot no to 
 a*X 0V s >( 0V ' Tt > That which belongs to the bladder now has an end; plainly refer 
 ring to the old prophecy here delivered. 
 
THESEUS. 
 
 46 
 
 “ Come hither, all ye people,” are said to be the begin ring 
 of a proclamation, which Theseus ordered to be made when 
 he composed a commonwealth, as it were, of all nations. Yet 
 he left it not in the confusion and disorder likely to ensue 
 from the confluence and strange mixture of people, but dis¬ 
 tinguished them into noblemen, husbandmen, and mechanics. 
 The nobility were to have the care of religion, to supply the 
 city with magistrates, to explain the laws, and to interpret 
 whatever related to the worship of the gods. As to the rest, 
 he balanced the citizens against each other as nearly as possi¬ 
 ble; the nobles excelling in dignity, the husbandmen in use¬ 
 fulness, and the artificers in number. It appears from Aris¬ 
 totle, that Theseus was the first who inclined to a democracy, 
 and gave up the regal power; and Homer also seerps to bear 
 witness to the same in his catalogue of ships, where he gives 
 the name of People to the Athenians only. To his money he 
 gave the impression of an ox, either on account of the Mara 
 thonian bull, or because of Minos’s general Taurus, or because 
 he would encourage the citizens in agriculture. Hence came 
 the expression of a thing being worth ten or a hundred oxen. 
 Having also made a secure acquisition of the country about 
 Megara to the territory of Athens, he set up the famed pillar 
 in the Isthmus,* and inscribed it with two verses to distin¬ 
 guish the boundaries. That on the east side ran thus:— 
 
 This is not Peloponnesus, but Ionia; 
 and that on the west was: 
 
 This is Peloponnesus, not Ionia. 
 
 He likewise instituted games, in imitation of Hercules; being 
 ambitious, that as the Greeks, in pursuance of that hero’s ap¬ 
 pointment, celebrated the Olympic games in honour of Jupi¬ 
 ter, so they should celebrate the Isthmian in honour of Nep¬ 
 tune; for the rites performed there before, in memory of Me- 
 licertes, were observed in the night, and had more the air of 
 mysteries, than of a public spectacle and assembly. But some 
 say the Isthmian games were dedicated to Sciron, Theseus in¬ 
 clining to expiate his untimely fate, by reason of their being 
 so nearly related; for Sciron was the son of Canethus and 
 Henioche, the daughter of Pittheus. Others will have it, that 
 
 * This pillar was erected by the common consent of the Ionians and Po» 
 ioponnesb ns, to put an end to the disputes about their boundaries; and it 
 continued to the reign of Codrus, during which it was demolished by the 
 Heraclidx, who had made themselves masters of the territory of Megara, 
 wliich thereby passed fi )m the Ionians to the Dorians.— Strabo, lib. ix. 
 
THESEUS. 
 
 47 
 
 Sinnis was their son, and that to him, and not to Sciion, the 
 games were dedicated. He made an agreement too with the 
 Corinthians, that they should give the place of honour to the 
 Athenians who came to the Isthmian games, as far as the 
 ground could be covered with the sail of the public ship that 
 brought them, when stretched to its full extent. This par¬ 
 ticular we learn from Hellanicus, and Andron of Halicarnas¬ 
 sus. 
 
 Philochorus and some others relate, that he sailed, in com¬ 
 pany with Hercules, into the Euxine sea, to carry on war with 
 the Amazons,* and that he received Antiopet as the reward 
 of his valour; but the greater number, among whom are 
 Pherecydes, Hellanicus, and Herodotus, tell us, that Theseus 
 made that voyage, with his own fleet only, sometime after 
 Hercules, and took that Amazon captive, which is indeed the 
 more probable account; for we .do not read that any other of 
 his fellow-warriors made any Amazon prisoner. But Bion 
 says, he took and carried her off by a stratagem. The Ama¬ 
 zons, being naturally lovers of men, were so far from avoiding 
 Theseus, when he touched upon their coasts, that they sent 
 him presents. Theseus invited Antiope, who brought them 
 into his ship, and as soon as she was aboard, set sail. But the 
 account of one Menecrates, who published a history of Nice, 
 in Bithynia, is, that Theseus, having Antiope aboard his ves¬ 
 sel remained in those parts some time; and that he was attend¬ 
 ed in that expedition by three young men of Athens, who 
 were brothers, Euneos, Thoas, and Soloon. The last of these, 
 unknown to the rest, fell in love with Antiope, and commu¬ 
 nicated his passion to one of his companions, who applied to 
 Antiope about the affair. She firmly rejected his pretensions, 
 but treated him with civility, and prudently concealed the 
 matter from Theseus. But Soloon, in despair, having leaped 
 into a river and drowned himself, Theseus, then sensible of 
 the cause, and the young man’s passion, lamented his fate, and, 
 in his sorrow, recollected an oracle which he had formerly 
 received at Delphi. The priestess had ordered, that when, in 
 some foreign country, he should labour under the greatest af¬ 
 fliction, he should build a city there, and leave some of his 
 followers to govern it Hence he called the city which he 
 Duilt Pythopolis, after the Pythian god, and the neighbouring 
 river Soloon, in honour of the young man. He left the two 
 
 * Nothing* can be more fabulous than the whole history flf the Amazons. 
 Strabo observes, that the most credible of Alexander’s historians have not 
 so much as mentioned them: and, indeed, if they were a Scythian nation, 
 how came they all to have Greek names. 
 
 t Justin says Hercules g*ave Hippolyte to Theseus, and kept Antiope feff 
 himself. 
 
48 
 
 1'HESEUS. 
 
 surviving brothers to govern it, and give it laws; and along 
 with them Hermus, who was of one of the best families in 
 Athens. From him the inhabitants of Pythopolis call a cer¬ 
 tain place in their city Hermus’s house (Hermou oikia,) and by 
 misplacing an accent, transfer the honour from the hero to the 
 god Mercury. 
 
 Hence the war with the Amazons took its rise. And i 
 appears to have been no slight or womanish enterprise; for 
 they could not have encamped in the town, or joined battle on 
 the ground about the Pynx* and the Museum,! or fallen in so 
 intrepid a manner upon the city of Athens, unless they had 
 first reduced the country about it. It is difficult, indeed, to 
 believe (though Hellanicus has related it) that they crossed 
 the Cimmerian Bosphorus upon the ice; but that they encamp¬ 
 ed almost in the heart of the city is confirmed by the names of 
 places, and by the tombs of those that fell. 
 
 There was a long pause and delay before either army would 
 begin the attack. At last, Theseus, by the direction of some 
 oracle, offered a sacrifice to Fear,J and after that immediately 
 engaged. The battle was fought in the month Boedromion 
 (September), the day on which the Athenians still celebrate 
 the feast called Boedromia. Clidemus, who is willing to be 
 very particular, writes, that the left wing of the Amazons 
 moved towards what is now called the Amazonium; and that 
 the right extended as far as the Pynx, near Chrysa; that the 
 Athenians first engaged with the left wing of the Amazons, 
 falling upon them from the Museum; and that the tombs of 
 those that fell in the battle are in the street which leads to the 
 gate called Piraica, which is by the monument erected in ho¬ 
 nour of Chalcodon, where the Athenians were routed by the 
 Amazons, and fled as far as the temple of the Furies; but that 
 the left wing of the Athenians, which charged from the Pal¬ 
 ladium, Ardettus, and Lyceum, drove the right wing of the 
 enemy to their camp, and slew many of them; that after four 
 months, a peace was concluded by means of Hippolyte; for 
 so this author calls the Amazon that attended with Theseus, 
 not Antiope. But some say this heroine fell fighting by The¬ 
 seus’ side, being pierced with a dart by Molpadia, and that a 
 pillar, by the temple of the Olympian Earth,§ was setup over 
 
 * The Pynx was a place (near the citadel) where the people of Athens 
 used to assemble, and where the orators spoke to them about public affairs. 
 
 •(■The Museum was upon a little hill over against the citadel, and proba¬ 
 bly so called from a temple of the Muses there. 
 
 t The heathens considered not only the passions, but even distempers, 
 storms, and tempests, as divinities, and worshipped them, that they might 
 dn them to harm. 
 
 By tliis is meant the moon, so called (as Plutarch supposes, in his Tre* 
 
THESEUS. 
 
 45 
 
 her grave. Ncr is it to be wondered, that, in the account of 
 th ngs so very ancient, history should be thus uncertain, since 
 Liey tell us that some Amazons, wounded by Antiope, were 
 privately sent to Chalcis to be cured, and that some were 
 buried there, at a place now called Amazonium. But that 
 the war was ended by a league, we may assuredly gather from 
 a place called Horcomosium, near the temple of Theseus, 
 where it was sworn to, as well as from an ancient sacrifice, 
 which is offered to the Amazons the day before the feast of 
 Theseus. The people of Megara, too, show a place, in the 
 figure of a lozenge, where some Amazons were buried, as you 
 go from the market-place to the place called Rhus. Others 
 also are said to have died by Chseronea, and to have been bu¬ 
 ried by the rivulet, which, it seems, was formerly called 
 Thermodon, but now Hsemon; of which I have given a fur¬ 
 ther account in the life of Demosthenes. It appears, likewise, 
 that the Amazons traversed Thessaly, not without opposition; 
 for their sepulchres are shown to this day, between Scotus- 
 ssea and Cynoscephalae. 
 
 This is all that is memorable in the story of the Amazons; 
 for as to what the author of the Theseid relates, of the Ama¬ 
 zons rising to take vengeance for Antiope, when Theseus 
 quitted her, and married PhsSdra, and of their being slain by 
 Hercules, it has plainly the air of fable. Indeed he married 
 Phaedra after the death of Antiope, having by the Amazon a 
 son named Hippolytus,* or, according to Pindar, Demophoon. 
 As to the calamities which befel Phaedra and Hippolytus, since 
 
 tise on the Cessation of Oracles), because, like the Genii or Demons, she is 
 neither so perfect as the gods, nor so imperfect as human kind. But as 
 some of the philosophers, we mean the Pythagoreans, had astronomy enough 
 afterwards to conclude that the sun is the centre of this system, we presume 
 it might occur to thinking men in the more early ages, that the moon was 
 an opaque, and, therefore, probably a terrene body. 
 
 * Theseus had a son, by the Amazonian queen, named Hippolytus: having 
 soon after married Phaedra, the sister of Deucalion, the son and successor 
 of Minos, by whom he had two sons; he sent Hippolytus to be brought up 
 by his own mother iEthra, queen of Troezene: but he coming afterwards to 
 be present at some Athenian games, Phaedra fell in love with him; and hav¬ 
 ing solicited him in vain to a compliance, in a fit of resentment, accused him 
 to Theseus of having made an attempt upon her chastity. The fable says, 
 tbit Theseus prayed to Neptune to punish him by some violent death. And 
 ill solemn execrations, according to the notions of the heathens, certainly 
 taking effect, as Hippolytus was riding along the sea-shore, Neptune sent 
 two sea-calves, who frightened the horses, overturned the chariot, and tore 
 him to pieces. The poets add, that the lustful queen hanged herself for grief; 
 but as for Hippolytus, Diana being taken with his chastity, and pitying the 
 sad fate it had brought upon him, prevailed upon iEsculapius to restore hir* 
 to life to be a companion of her diversions. 
 
 Vol. i.-1 6* 
 
50 
 
 THESEUS. 
 
 the histoiians do not differ from what .he writers of tragedy 
 have said of them, we may look upon them as matters of fact. 
 
 Some other marriages of Theseus are spoken of, but have 
 not been represented on the stage, which had neither an hon¬ 
 ourable beginning, nor a happy conclusion. He is said also 
 to have forcibly carried off Anaxo of Troezene, and having 
 slain Sinnis and Cercyon, to have committed rapes upon then 
 daughters; to have married Periboea, the mother of Ajax, too, 
 and Pheroboea, and lope the daughter of Iphicles. Besides, 
 they charge him with being enamoured of A^gle, the daugh¬ 
 ter of Panopeus (as above related, and, for her, leaving Ari¬ 
 adne, contrary to the rules both of justice and honour; but, 
 above all, with the rape of Helen, which involved Attica in 
 war, and ended in his banishment and death; of which we 
 shall speak more at large by and bye. 
 
 Though there were many expeditions undertaken by the 
 heroes of those times, Herodotus thinks that Theseus was not 
 concerned in any of them, except in assisting the Lapithse 
 against the Centaurs. Others write, that he attended Jason 
 to Colchos, and Meleager in killing the boar; and that hence 
 came the proverb,—“ Nothing without Theseus.” It is al¬ 
 lowed, however, that Theseus, without any assistance, did 
 himself perform many great exploits; and that the extraordi¬ 
 nary instances of his valour gave occasion to the saying,— 
 “ This man is another Hercules.” Theseus was likewise as¬ 
 sisting to Adrastus, in recovering the bodies of those that fell 
 before Thebes; not by defeating the Thebans in battle, as 
 Euripides has it in his tragedy, but by persuading them to a 
 truce: for so most writers agree: and Philochorus is of opin¬ 
 ion, that this was the first truce ever known for burying the 
 dead. But Hercules was, indeed, the first who gave up their 
 dead to the enemy, as we have shown in his life. The bury- 
 ing-place of the common soldiers is to be seen at Eleutherae, 
 and of the officers at Eleusis; in which particular Theseus 
 gratified Adrastus. iEschylus, in whose tragedy of the Eleu- 
 sians Theseus is introduced, relating the matter as above, 
 contradicts what Euripides has delivered in his Suppliants. 
 
 The friendship between Theseus and Pirithous is said to 
 have commenced on this occasion. Theseus being much cele¬ 
 brated for his strength and valour, Pirithous was desirous to 
 prove it, and therefore drove away his oxen from Marathon. 
 When he heard that Theseus pursued him in arms, he did not 
 fly, but turned back to meet him. But, as soon as they beheld 
 one another, each was so struck with admiration of the other’s 
 person and courage, that they laid aside all thoughts of fight¬ 
 ing; and Pirithous first giving Theseus his hand, bade him be 
 judge in this cause himself, and he would willingly abide bv 
 
rr/ESEus. 
 
 51 
 
 his sentence. Theseus, in his turn, left the cause to him, and 
 desired him to be his friend and fellow-warrior. Then they 
 confirmed their friendship with an oath. Pirithfius afterwards 
 marrying DeTdamia,* entreated Theseus to visit his country, 
 and to become acquainted with the Lapithse.t He had also 
 invited the Centaurs to the entertainment. These, in their 
 cups, behaving with insolence and indecency, and not even 
 refraining from the women, the Lapithae rose up in their de¬ 
 fence, killed some of the Centaurs upon the spot, and soon 
 after beating them in a set battle, drove them out of the coun¬ 
 try with the assistance of Theseus. Herodotus relates the 
 matter differently. He says, that hostilities being already 
 begun, Theseus came in aid to the Lapithae, and then had the 
 first sight of Hercules, having made it his business to find him 
 out at Trachin, where he reposed himself after all his wander¬ 
 ings and labours; and that this interview passed in marks of 
 great respect, civility, and mutual compliments. But we are 
 rather to follow those historians, who write that they had 
 very frequent interviews; and that, by means of Theseus, 
 Hercules was initiated into the mysteries of Ceres, having 
 first obtained lustration, as he desired, on account of several 
 involuntary pollutions. 
 
 Theseus was now fifty years old, according to Hellanicus, 
 when he was concerned in the rape of Helen, J who had not 
 yet arrived at years of maturity. Some writers, thinking this 
 one of the heaviest charges against him, endeavour to correct 
 it by saying that it was not Theseus that carried off Helen, 
 but Idas and Lynceus, who committed her to his care, and 
 that therefore he refused to give her up, when demanded by 
 Castor and Pollux; or rather, that she was delivered to him 
 by Tyndarus himself, to keep her from Enarsphorus, the son 
 of Hippocoon, who endeavoured to possess himself by vio¬ 
 lence of Helen, that was yet but a child. But what authors 
 generally agree in, as most probable, is as follows:—The two 
 friends went together to Sparta, and having seen the girl danc¬ 
 ing in the temple of Diana Orthia, carried her off, and fled. 
 The pursuers that were sent after them following no farther 
 than Tegea, they thought themselves secure; and having tra 
 versed Peloponnesus, they entered into an agreement, that he 
 
 * All other writers call her Hippodamia, except Propertius, who calls liei 
 Ischomache. She was the daughter of Adrastus. 
 
 y Homer calls the Lapithx heroes. The Centaurs are feigned to have 
 been half-men hah-horses, either from their brutality, or because (if not the 
 inventors of horsemanship, yet) they generally appeared on horseback. 
 
 t This princess was the reputed daughter of Jupiter, by Leda the wife 
 of Tyndarus, king of CEbalia, in Peloponnesus*, and though then but nine 
 vears old, was reckoned the greatest beautv in the world. 
 
THESEUS. 
 
 S2 
 
 who should gain Helen by lot, should have her to wile, hut 
 be obliged to assist in procuring a wife for the other. In con¬ 
 sequence of these terms, the lots being cast, she fell to The¬ 
 seus, who received the virgin, and conveyed her as she was 
 not yet marriageable, to Aphidnae. Here he placed his mo¬ 
 ther with her, and committed them to the care of his friend 
 Aphidnus, charging him to keep them in the utmost secrecy 
 and safety; whilst, to pay his debt of service to Pirithous, 
 himself travelled with him into Epirus, with a view to the 
 daughter of Aidoneus, king of the Molossians. This prince 
 named his wife Proserpine,* his daughter Core, and his dog 
 Cerberus: with this dog he commanded all his daughter’s suit¬ 
 ors to fight, promising her to him that should overcome him. 
 But understanding that Pirithous came not with an intention 
 to court his daughter, but to carry her off by force, he seized 
 both him and his friend, destroyed Pirithous immediately, by 
 means of his dog, and shut up Theseus in close prison. 
 
 Mean time Menestheus, the son of Peteus, grandson of Or 
 neus, and great-grandson of Erechtheus, is said to be the first 
 of mankind that undertook to be a demagogue, and, by his 
 eloquence, to ingratiate himself with the people. He endea¬ 
 voured also to exasperate and inspire the nobility with sedition, 
 who had but ill borne with Theseus for some time, reflecting 
 that he had deprived every person of family of his govern¬ 
 ment and command, and shut them up together in one city, 
 where he used them as his subjects and slaves. Among the 
 common people he sowed disturbances, by telling them, that 
 though they pleased themselves with the dream of liberty, in 
 fact, they were robbed of their country and religion; and, in¬ 
 stead of many good and native kings, were lorded over by 
 one man, who was a new-comer and a stranger. Whilst he 
 was thus busily employed, the war declared by the Tynda- 
 ridae greatly helped forward the sedition. Some say plainly, 
 they were invited by Menestheus to invade the country. At 
 first they proceeded not in a hostile manner, only demanding 
 their sister; but the Athenians answering, that they neither 
 had her among them, nor knew where she was left, they be¬ 
 gan their warlike operations. Academus, however, finding 
 it out by some means or other, told them she was concealed 
 at Aphidnae. Hence, not only the Tyndaridae treated him 
 honourably in his life time, but the Lacedaemonians, who, in 
 
 * Proserpine and Core was the same person, daughter to Aidoneus, whose 
 wife was named Ceres. Plutarch himself tells us so in his Morals, where he 
 adds, that by Proserpine is meant the Moon, whom Pluto, or the God ot 
 Darkness, sometimes carries off. Indeed, Core signifies nothing* more than 
 young woman or daughter; and they mig*ht say a daughter of Epirus, as we 
 say a daughter of France, or of Spain. 
 
THESEUS. 
 
 53 
 
 after-times, often made inroads into Attica, and laid waste all 
 the country besides, spared the Academy for his sake. But 
 Bicaearchus says, that Echedemus and Marathus, two Arca¬ 
 dians, being allies to the Tyndaridae in that war, the place 
 which now goes by the name of the Academy, was first called 
 Echedemy, from one of them; and that from the other the 
 district of Marathon had its name, because he freely offered 
 himself, in pursuance of some oracle, to be sacrificed at the 
 head of the army. To Aphidnae then they came, where they 
 beat the enemy in a set battle, and then took the city, and 
 razed it to the ground. There, they tell us, Alycus, the son 
 of Sciron, was slain, fighting for Castor and Pollux; and that 
 a certain place, within the territories of Megara, is called 
 Alycus, fiom his being buried there; and Hereas writes, that 
 Alycus received his death from Theseus’s own hand. These 
 verses also are alleged as a proof in point:— 
 
 For bright-hair’d Helen he was slain 
 
 By Theseus, on Aphidnse’s plain. 
 
 But it is not probable that Aphidnae would have been taken, 
 and his mother made prisoner, had Theseus been present. 
 
 Aphidnae, however, was taken, and Athens in danger. 
 Menestheus took this opportunity to persuade the people to 
 admit the Tyndaridae into the city, and to treat them hospita¬ 
 bly, since, they only levied war against Theseus, who began 
 with violence first, but that they were benefactors and deliver¬ 
 ers to the rest of the Athenians. Their behaviour also con¬ 
 firmed what was said; for, though conquerors, they desired 
 nothing but to be admitted to the mysteries, to which they had 
 no less claim than Hercules,* since they were equally allied 
 to the city. This request was easily granted them, and they 
 were adopted by Aphidnus, as Hercules was by Pylias. They 
 had also divine honours paid them, with the title of Anakes, 
 which was given them, either on account of the truce (anochc) 
 which they made, or because of their great care that no one 
 should be injured, though there were so many troops in the 
 city; for the phrase anakos cchein signifies to keep or take care 
 of any thing; and for this reason, perhaps, kings are called 
 Anaktes. Some again say, they were called Anakes, because 
 of the appearance of their stars; for the A thenians used the 
 word anekas and anekatken , instead of ano and anothen , that is. 
 above or on high. 
 
 * For Castor and Pollux, like him, were sons of Jupiter, from whom the 
 Athenians too pretended to derive their origin. It was necessary, however, 
 that they should be naturalized before they were admitted to the mysteries. 
 
 d, accordingly, they were naturalized by adoption. 
 
64 
 
 THESEUS. 
 
 We are tola that iEthra, the mother of Theseus, who was 
 now a prisoner, was carried to Lacedaemon, and from thence, 
 with Helen, to Troy; and that Homer confirms it, when 
 speaking of those that waited upon Helen, he mentions— 
 
 -The beauteous Clymene, 
 
 And jEthra bom of Pittheus. 
 
 Others reject this verse as none of Homer’s, as they do also 
 the story of Munychus, who is said to have been the fruit of 
 a secret commerce between Demophoon and Loadice, and 
 brought up by iEthra at Troy. But Ister, in the thirteenth 
 book of his history of Attica, gives an account of iEthra dif¬ 
 ferent from all the rest. He was informed, it seems, that after 
 the battle in wdiich Alexander or Paris was routed by Achilles 
 and Patroclus, in Thessaly, near the river Sperchius, Hector 
 took and plundered the city of Troezene, and carried off iEthra, 
 who had been left there. But this is highly improbable. 
 
 It happened that Hercules, in passing through the country 
 of the Molossians, was entertained by A'idoneus the king, 
 who accidentally made mention of the bold attempts of These¬ 
 us and Pirithous, and of the manner in which he had pun¬ 
 ished them, when discovered. Hercules w T as much disturbed 
 to hear of the inglorious death of the one, and the danger of 
 the other. As to Pirithous, he thought it in vain to expostu¬ 
 late about him; but he begged to have Theseus released, and 
 A’idoneus granted it. Theseus, thus set at liberty, returned 
 to Athens, where his party w r as not yet entirely suppressed; 
 and whatever temples and groves the city had assigned him, 
 he consecrated them all, but four, to Hercules, and called 
 them (as Philochorus relates), instead of Thesea, Heraclea. 
 But desiring to preside in the commonwealth, and direct it as 
 before, he found himself encompassed with faction and sedi¬ 
 tion; for those that were his enemies before his departure, 
 had now added to their hatred a contempt of his authority; 
 and he beheld the people so generally corrupted, that they 
 wanted to be flattered into their duty, instead of silently exe¬ 
 cuting his commands. When he attempted to reduce them 
 by force he was overpowered by the prevalence of faction; 
 and, in th3 end, finding his affairs desperate, he privately sent 
 his children into Euboea, to Elephenor, the son of Chalcodon: 
 and himself, having uttered solemn execrations against the 
 Athenians at Gargettus, wdiere there is still a place thence 
 called Araterion, sailed to Scyros.* He imagined that there 
 
 * The ungrateful Athenians were, in process of time, made so sensible of 
 the effects cf his curse, that, to appease his ghost, they appointed solemn 
 sacrifices, and divine honours, to be paid to him. 
 
THESEUS. 
 
 55 
 
 he should find hospitable treatment as he had a paternal estate 
 in that island. Lycomedes was then king of the Scyrians. 
 To him therefore, he applied, and desired to be put in posses¬ 
 sion of the lands, as intending to settle there. Some say he 
 asked assistance of him against the Athenians. But Lyco¬ 
 medes, either jealous of the glory of Theseus, or willing to 
 oblige Menestheus, having led him to the highest cliffs of the 
 country, on pretence of showing him from thence his lands, 
 threw him down headlong from the rocks, and killed him. 
 Others say he fell of himself, missing his step, when he took 
 a walk, according to his custom, after supper. At that time 
 his death was disregarded, and Menestheus quietly possessed 
 the kingdom of Athens, while the sons of Theseus attended 
 Elephenor, as private persons, to the Trojan war. But Me¬ 
 nestheus dying in the same expedition, they returned and re¬ 
 covered the kingdom. In succeeding ages, the Athenians 
 honoured Theseus as a demi-god, induced to it as well by 
 other reasons, as because, when they were fighting the Medes 
 at Marathon, a considerable part of the army thought they 
 saw the apparition of Theseus, completely armed, and bearing 
 down before them upon the barbarians. 
 
 After the Median war, when Phsedon was archon,* the 
 Athenians, consulting the Oracle of Apollo, were ordered by 
 the priestess to take up the bones of Theseus, and lay them in 
 an honourable place at Athens, where they were to be kept 
 with the greatest care. But it was difficult to take them up, 
 or even to find out the grave, on account of the savage and in¬ 
 hospitable disposition of the barbarians who dwelt in Scyros. 
 Nevertheless, Cimon having taken the island (as is related in 
 his life), and being very desirous to find out the place where 
 
 * Codras, the seventeenth king* of Athens, contemporary with Saul, de¬ 
 voted himself to death for the sake of his country, in the year before Christ 
 1068; having* learned that the Oracle had promised its enemies, the Dorians 
 and the Heraclidae, victory, if they did not kill the king of the Athenians. 
 His subjects, on this account, conceived such veneration for him, that they 
 esteemed none worthy to bear the royal title after him, and, therefore, com¬ 
 mitted the management of the state to elective magistrates, to whom they 
 gave the title of archons, and chose Medon, the eldest son of Codrus, to this 
 new dignity. Thus ended the legal succession, and title of king of Athens, 
 after it had continued, without any interruption, 487 years, from Cecrops to 
 Codrus. The archon acted with sovereign authority, but was accountable to 
 the people whenever it was required. There were thirteen perpetual ar¬ 
 chons in the space of 325 years. After the death of Alcmseon, who was the 
 last of them, this charge was continued to the person elected for ten years 
 only; but always in the same family, till the death of Eryxias, or, according 
 to others, of Theseus, the seventh and last decennial archon. For the family 
 of Codrus, or of the Medontidae, ending in him, the Athenians created annua* 
 archons, and, instead of one, they appointed nine every year. See a farthei 
 account of the archons in the Notes on the Life of Solon. 
 
56 
 
 THESEUS. 
 
 Theseus was buried, by chance saw an eagle on a certain emt 
 nence, breaking the ground (as they tell us), and scratching it 
 up with her talons. This he considered as a divine direction, 
 and digging there, found the coffin of a man of extraordin ary 
 size, with a lance of brass, and a sword lying by it. When 
 these remains were brought to Athens in Cimon’s galley, the 
 Athenians received them with splendid processions and sacri¬ 
 fices, and were as much transported as if Theseus himself had 
 returned to the city. He lies interred in the middle of the 
 town, near the Gymnasium; and his oratory is a place of re¬ 
 fuge for servants and all persons of mean condition, who fly 
 from men in power, as Theseus, while he lived, was a humane 
 and benevolent patron, who graciously received the petitions 
 of the poor. The chief sacrifice is offered to him on the 8th 
 of October, the day on which he returned with the young men 
 from Crete. They sacrifice to him likewise on each 8th day 
 of the other months, either because he first arrived from 
 Troezene on the 8th of July, as Diodorus the geographer re¬ 
 lates; or else thinking this number, above all others, to be most 
 proper to him, because he was said to be the son of Neptune; 
 the solemn feasts of Neptune being observed on the 8th day ol 
 every month. For the number eight, as the first cube of an 
 even number, and the double of the first square, properly re¬ 
 presents the firmness and immoveable power of this god, who 
 thence has the names of Asphalius and Gaieochus. 
 
THE 
 
 LIFE OF ROMULUS. 
 
 If rum whom, and from what cause the city of Rome obtain 
 ed that name, whose glory has diffused itself over the world, 
 historians are not agreed.* Some say the Pelasgi, after they 
 had overrun great part of the globe, and conquered many na¬ 
 tions, settled there, and gave their city the name of Rome,t 
 on account of their strength in war. Others tell us, that when 
 Troy was taken, some of the Trojans having escaped and 
 gained their ships, put to sea, and being driven by the winds 
 upon the coast of Tuscany, came to an anchor in the river Ti¬ 
 ber; that here, their wives being much fatigued, and no long¬ 
 er able to bear the hardships of the sea, one of them, superior 
 to the rest in birth and prudence, named Roma, proposed that 
 they should burn the fleet; that this being effected, the men at 
 first were much exasperated, but afterwards, through neces¬ 
 sity, fixed their seat on the Palatine hill, and in a short time 
 things succeeded beyond their expectation; for the country 
 was good, J and the people hospitable; that therefore, besides 
 other honours paid to Roma, they called their city, as she was 
 the cause of its being built, after her name. Hence, too, we 
 are informed, the custom arose for the women to salute their 
 relations and husbands with a kiss; because those women, 
 when they had burnt the ships, used such kind of endearments 
 to appease the resentment of their husbands. 
 
 Among the various accounts of historians, it is said, that 
 Roma was the daughter of Italus and Leucaria; or else the 
 
 * Such is the uncertainty of the origin of imperial Rome, and indeed of 
 most cities and nations that are of any considerable antiquity. That of Rome 
 might be the more uncertain, because its first inhabitants, being a collection 
 of mean persons, fugitives and outlaws, from other nations, could not be 
 supposed to leave histories behind them. Livy, however, and most of the 
 Latin historians, agree that Rome was built by Romulus, and both the city 
 and people named after him: while the vanity of the Greek writers wants 
 to ascribe almost every thing, and Rome among the rest, to a Greciap 
 original. 
 
 f Pet/urj, Rome signifies strength . 
 
 i Whatever desirable things nature has scattered frugally in other coun¬ 
 tries, were formerly found in Italy, as in their original seminary. But there 
 has been so little encouragement given to tiie cultivation of the soil in the 
 time of the pontiffs, that it is now comparativclv barren. 
 
 Vol. I- K 7 
 
58 
 
 ROMULUS. 
 
 daughter of Telephus the son of Hercules, and married to 
 iEneas; or that she was the daughter of Ascanius,* the son of 
 iEneas, and gave name to the city; or that Romanus, the son 
 of Ulysses and Circe, built it; or Romus, the son of iEmathion, 
 whom Diomedes sent from Troy: or else Romus, king of the 
 Latins, after he had expelled the Tuscans, who passed origi¬ 
 nally from Thessaly into Lydia, and from Lydia into Italy. 
 Even they who with the greatest probability, declare that the 
 city had its name from Romulus, do not agree about his ex¬ 
 traction; for some say he was son of ^.neas andDexithea, the 
 daughter of Phorbus, and was brought an infant into Italy 
 with his brother Remus, that all the other vessels were lost by 
 the violence of the flood, except that in which the children 
 were, which, driving gently ashore where the bank was level, 
 they were saved, beyond expectation, and the place from them 
 was called Rome. Some will have it, that Roma, daughter 
 of that Trojan woman who was married to Latinus, the son of 
 Telemachus, was mother to Romulus. Others say, that Ame¬ 
 lia, the daughter of iEneas and Lavinia, had him by Mars; and 
 others again give an account of his birth, which is entirely 
 fabulous. There appeared, it seems, to Tarchetius, king of 
 the Albans, who was the most wicked and most cruel of men, 
 a supernatural vision in his own house, the figure of Priapus 
 rising out of the chimney-hearth, and staying there many 
 days. The goddess Tethys had an oracle in Tuscany, t which 
 being consulted, gave this answer to Tarchetius,—That it was 
 necessary some virgin should accept of the embraces of 
 the phantom, the fruit whereof would be a son, eminent for 
 valour, good fortune, and strength of body. Hereupon Tar¬ 
 chetius acquainted one of his daughters with the prediction, 
 and ordered her to entertain the apparition; but she declining 
 it, sent her maid. When Tarchetius came to know it, he 
 was highly offended, and confined them both, intending to 
 put them to death. But Vesta appeared to him in a dream, 
 and forbade him to kill them; but ordered that the young 
 women should weave a certain web in their fetters, and when 
 that was done, be given in marriage. They weaved therefore 
 in the day-time; but others, by Tarchetius’s order, unravelled 
 it in the night. The woman having twins by this commerce, 
 Tarchetius delivered them to one Teratius, with orders to de¬ 
 stroy them; but instead of that, he exposed them by a river 
 side, where a she-wolf came and gave them suck, and various 
 
 * Ot <f* A mch/ix t# A mix [Svyurtcct sc.] a <rzvo l uci SirQui t rj 7rcyu. The 
 former English translation, and the French in this place, are erroneous. 
 
 j- There was no oracle of Tethys, but of Themis there was. Themis was 
 the same with Carmenta, the mother of Evander, which last name she hath 
 because she delivered her oracles in carmine , in verses. 
 
ROMULUS. 
 
 59 
 
 sorts of birds brought food and fed the infants, till at last a 
 herdsman, who beheld these wonderful things ventured to 
 approach and take up the children. Thus secured from dan 
 ger, they grew up, and then attacked Tarchetius, and over¬ 
 came him. This is the account Promathion gives in his his¬ 
 tory of Italy. 
 
 But the principal parts of that account, which deserve the 
 most credit, and have the most vouchers, were first published 
 among the Greeks by Diodes the Peparethian, whom Fabius 
 Pictor commonly follows; and though there are different rela¬ 
 tions of the matter, yet, to despatch it in a few words, the 
 story is this:—The kings of Alba* descending lineally from 
 iEneas, the succession fell to two brothers, Numitor and Amu- 
 lius. The latter divided the whole inheritance into two parts, 
 setting the treasures brought from Troy against the kingdom; 
 and Numitor made choice of the kingdom. Amulius then 
 having the treasures, and consequently being more powerful 
 than Numitor, easily possessed himself of the kingdom too; 
 and fearing the daughter of Numitor might have children, he 
 appointed her priestess of Vesta, in which capacity she was 
 always to live unmarried and a virgin. Some say her name 
 was Ilia, some Rhea, and others Sylvia. But she was soon 
 discovered to be with child, contrary to the law of the vestals. 
 Antho, the king’s daughter, by much entreaty, prevailed with 
 her father that she should not be capitally punished. She was 
 confined, however, and excluded from society, lest she should 
 be delivered without Amulius’s knowledge. When her time 
 was completed, she was delivered of two sons of uncommon 
 size and beauty; whereupon Amulius, still more alarmed, or¬ 
 dered one of his servants to destroy them. Some say the name 
 of this servant was Faustulus; others, that that was the name 
 of a person that took them up. Pursuant to his orders, he 
 put the children into a small trough or cradle, and went down 
 towards the river, with a design to cast them in; but seeing it 
 very rough, and running with a strong current, he was afraid 
 to approach it. He therefore laid them down near the bank, 
 and departed. The flood increasing continually, set the trough 
 afloat, and carried it gently down to a pleasant place, now 
 called Cermanum, but formerly (as it should seem) Germanum, 
 denoting that the brothers arrived there. 
 
 Near this place was a wild fig-tree, which they called Ru- 
 
 * From JEneas down to Numitor and Amulius. there were thirteen king’s of 
 the same race, but we scarce know any thing’ of them, except their names 
 and the years of their respective reigns. Amulius, the last of them, who 
 surpassed his brother in courage and understanding’, drove him from the 
 throne, and, to secure it for himself, murdered iEgestus, Numitor’s only soi* 
 and consecrated his daughter Rhea Sylvia to the worship if Vesta. 
 
60 
 
 ROMULUS. 
 
 minalis, either on account of Romulus, as is generally sup¬ 
 posed, or because the cattle there ruminated, or chewed the 
 cud, during the noon-tide, in the shade; or rather, because of 
 the suckling of the children there; for the ancient Latins called 
 the breast ruma , and the goddess who presides over the nur¬ 
 sery Rumilia,* whose rites they celebrated without wine, and 
 only with libations of milk. The infants, as the story goes, 
 lying there, were suckled by a she-wolf, and fed and taken 
 care oi by a wood-pecker. These animals are sacred to Mars; 
 and the wood-pecker is held in great honour and veneration 
 by the Latins. Such wonderful events contributed not a lit¬ 
 tle to gain credit to the mother’s report, that she had the chil¬ 
 dren by Mars; though in this they tell us, she was herself de¬ 
 ceived, having suffered violence from Amulius, w T ho came to 
 her, and lay with her in armour. Some say, the ambiguity 
 of the nurse’s name gave occasion to the fable; for the Latins 
 call not only she-wolves, but prostitutes, lupse; and such was 
 Acca Larentia, the w T ife of Faustulus, the foster-father of the 
 children. To her also the Romans offer sacrifice, and the 
 priest of Mars honours her with libations in the month of 
 April, when they celebrate her feast Larentialia. 
 
 They worship also another Larentia, on the following ac¬ 
 count:—The keeper of the temple of Hercules having, it seems, 
 little else to do, proposed to play a game at dice with the god, 
 on condition that, if he won, he should have something valua¬ 
 ble of that deity; but if he lost, he should provide a noble en¬ 
 tertainment for him, and a beautiful woman to lie with him. 
 Then throwing the dice, first for the god, and next for him¬ 
 self, it appeared that he had lost. Willing, however, to stand 
 to his bargain, and to perform the conditions agreed upon, he 
 prepared a supper, and engaging for the purpose one La¬ 
 rentia, who was very handsome, but as yet little known, he 
 treated her in the temple, where he had provided a bed, and ; 
 after supper, left her for the enjoyment of the god. It is said, 
 that the deity had some conversation with her, and ordered 
 her to go early in the morning to the market-place, salute the 
 first man she should meet, and make him her friend. The 
 man that met her was one far advanced in years, and in opu¬ 
 lent circumstances, Tarrutius by name, who had no children, 
 and never had been married. This man took Larentia to his 
 bed, and loved her so well that at his death he left her heir tc 
 his whole estate, which was very considerable; and she after¬ 
 wards bequeathed the greatest part of it by will to the people. 
 It is said, that at the time when she was in high reputation, 
 and considered as the favourite of a god, she suddenly disap* 
 
 # The Romans called that goddess, not Rumilif 9 but Rumina. 
 
ROMULUS. 
 
 61 
 
 f eared about the place where the former Larentia was laid, 
 t is now called Velabrum, because the river often overflow* 
 ing, they passed it at this place in ferry-boats, to go to the fo¬ 
 rum. This kind of passage they call velatura. Others derive 
 the name from velum , a sail, because they who have the exhib¬ 
 iting of the public shows, beginning at Velabrum, overshade 
 all the way that leads from the forum to the Hippodrome with 
 canvas; for a sail in Latin is velum . On these accounts is the 
 second Larentia so much honoured among the Romans. 
 
 In the mean time Faustulus Amulius’s herdsman, brought 
 up the children entirely undiscovered; or rather, as others with 
 greater probability assert, Numitor knew it from the first,* 
 and privately supplied the necessaries for their maintenance. 
 It is also said that they were sent to Gabii, and there instruct¬ 
 ed in letters, and other branches of education suitable to their 
 birth; and history informs us that they had the names of Ro¬ 
 mulus and Remus, from the teat of the wild animal which they 
 were seen to suck. The beauty and dignity of their persons, 
 even in their childhood, promised a generous disposition; 
 and as they grew up, they both discovered great courage and 
 bravery, with an inclination to hazardous attempts, and a spirit 
 which nothing could subdue. But Romulus seemed more to 
 cultivate the powers of reason, and to excel in political know¬ 
 ledge; whilst by his deportment among his neighbours, in the 
 employments of pasturage and hunting, he convinced them 
 that he was born to command rather than to obey. To their 
 equals and inferiors they behaved very courteously; but they 
 despised the king’s bailiffs and chief herdsmen, as not superi 
 or to themselves in courage, though they were in authority, 
 disregarding at once their threats and their anger. They ap 
 plied themselves to generous exercises and pursuits, looking 
 upon idleness and inactivity as illiberal things, but on hunt¬ 
 ing, running, banishing or apprehending robbers, and deliver¬ 
 ing such as were oppressed by violence, as the employments 
 of honour and virtue. By these things they gained great re¬ 
 nown. 
 
 A dispute arising between the herdsmen of Numitor and 
 Amulius, and the former having driven away some cat f le be¬ 
 longing to the latter, Romulus and Remus fell upon them, put 
 them to flight and recovered the greatest part of the booty. 
 At this conduct Numitor was highly offended; but they little 
 regarded his resentment. The first steps they took on this oc- 
 
 * Numitor might build upon this the hopes of his re-establishment but 
 his knowing the place where the children were brought up, and supplying 
 them with necessaries, is quite inconsistent with the manner of their Cisco 
 very when grown up, which is the mcst agreeable part of the story. 
 
 7 
 
62 
 
 ROMULUS. 
 
 casion were to collect, and receive into their company, per* 
 sons of desperate fortunes, and a great number of slaves; a 
 measure which gave alarming proofs of their bold and sedi¬ 
 tious inclinations. It happened, that when Romulus was em¬ 
 ployed in sacrificing, for to that and divination he was much 
 inclined, Numitor’s herdsmen met with Remus, as he was 
 walking with a small retinue, and fell upon him. After some 
 blows exchanged, and wounds given and received, Numitor’s 
 people prevailed, and took Remus prisoner. He was carried 
 before Numitor, and had several things laid to his charge; but 
 Numitor did not choose to punish him himself, for fear of his 
 brother’s resentment. To him, therefore, he applied for jus¬ 
 tice, which he had all the reason in the world to expect, since, 
 though brother to the reigning prince, he had been injured by 
 his servants, who presumed upon his authority. The people 
 of Alba, moreover, expressing their uneasiness, and thinking 
 that Numitor suffered great indignities, Amulius, moved with 
 their complaints, delivered Remus to him, to be treated as he 
 should think proper. When the youth was conducted to his 
 house, Numitor was greatly struck with his appearance, as he 
 was very remarkable for size and strength; he observed, too, 
 his presence of mind, and the steadiness of his looks, which 
 had nothing servile in them, nor were altered with the sense 
 of his present danger; and he was informed, that his actions 
 and whole behaviour were suitable to what he saw. But, above 
 all, some divine influence, as it seems, directing the beginnings 
 of the great events that were to follow, Numitor, by his saga 
 city, or by a fortunate conjecture, suspecting the truth, ques¬ 
 tioned him concerning the circumstances of his birth; speak¬ 
 ing mildly at the same time, and regarding him with a gra¬ 
 cious eye. He boldly answered ,— u I will hide nothing from 
 you, for you behave in a more princely manner than Amulius, 
 since you hear and examine before you punish; but he has de¬ 
 livered us up without inquiring into the matter. I have a twin- 
 brother, and heretofore we believed ourselves the sons of 
 Faustulus and Larentia, servants to the king; but since we 
 were accused before you, and so pursued by slander, as to be 
 in danger of our lives, we hear nobler things concerning our 
 birth. Whether they are true the present crisis will show 
 Our birth is said to have been secret, our support in our infan¬ 
 cy miraculous. We were exposed to birds and wild beasts, 
 and by them nourished; suckled by a she-wolf, and fed by the 
 attentions of a wood-pecker, as we lay in a trough by the 
 great river. The trough is still preserved, bound about wuh 
 
 For if they were true, the god who miraculously protected them in then 
 infancy, would deliver Remus from his present danger. 
 
ROMULUS. 
 
 G 5 
 
 r>rass bands, and inscribed with letters partly faded; which 
 may prove perhaps, hereafter, very useful tokens to our pa¬ 
 rents, when we are destroyed.” Numitor hearing this, and 
 comparing the time with the young man’s looks, was confirm¬ 
 ed in the pleasing hope he had conceived, and considered how 
 he might consult his daughter about this affair; for she was 
 still kept in close custody. 
 
 Meanwhile Faustulus, having heard that Remus was taken 
 and delivered up to punishment, desired Romulus to assist his 
 brother, informing him then clearly of the particulars of his 
 birth; for before he had only given dark hints about it, and 
 signified just so much as might take off the attention of his 
 wards from every thing that was mean. He himself took the 
 trough, and in all the tumult of concern and fear, carried it to 
 Numitor. His disorder raised some suspicion in the king’s 
 
 f ;uards at the gate; and that disorder increasing while they 
 ooked earnestly upon him, and perplexed him with their 
 questions, he was discovered to have a trough under his cloak. 
 There happened to be among them one of those who had it in 
 charge to throw the children into the river, and who was con¬ 
 cerned in the exposing of them. This man seeing the trough, 
 and knowing it by its make and inscription, rightly guessed 
 the business; and thinking it an affair not to be neglected, 
 immediately acquainted the king with it, and put him upon 
 inquiring into it. In these great and pressing difficulties, 
 Faustulus did not preserve entirely his presence of mind, nor 
 yet fully discover the matter. He acknowledged that the 
 children were saved indeed, but said that they kept cattle at a 
 great distance from Alba; and that he was carrying the trough 
 to Ilia, who had often desired to see it, that she might enter¬ 
 tain the better hopes that her children were alive. Whatever 
 persons perplexed and actuated with fear or anger use to suf¬ 
 fer, Amulius then suffered; for in his hurry he sent an honest 
 man, a friend of Numitor’s to inquire of him whether he had 
 any account that the children were alive. When the man was 
 come, and saw Remus almost in the embraces of Numitor, he 
 endeavoured to confirm him in the persuasion that the youth 
 was really his grandson; begging him, at the same time, im¬ 
 mediately to take the best measures that could be thought oi, 
 and offering his best assistance to support their party. The 
 occasion admitted of no delay, if they had been inclined to it; 
 for Romulus was now at hand, and a good number of the citi¬ 
 zens were gathered about him, either out of hatred or fear of 
 Amulius. He brought also a considerable force with him, 
 divided into companies of a hundred men each, headed by an 
 officer who bore a handful of grass and shrubs upon a pole. 
 These the Latins called Manipuii; and hence it is, that to this 
 
04 
 
 ROMULUS. 
 
 day soldiers of the same company are called Manipulares 
 Remus then, having gained those within, and Romulus as« 
 saulting the palace without, the tyrant knew not how to do, 
 or whom he should consult; but amidst his doubts and per¬ 
 plexity was taken and slain. These particulars, though most¬ 
 ly related by Fabius, and Diodes the Peparethian, who seems 
 to have been the first that wrote about the founding of Rome, 
 are yet suspected by some as fabulous and groundless. Per¬ 
 haps, however, we should not be so incredulous, when W3 
 see what extraordinary events fortune produces; nor, when we 
 consider what height of greatness Rome attained to, can we 
 think it could ever have been effected without some super 
 natural assistance at first, and an origin more than human. 
 
 Amulius being dead, and the troubles composed, the two 
 brothers were not willing to live in Alba without governing 
 there, nor yet to take the government upon them during their 
 grandfather’s life. Having, therefore, invested him with it, 
 and paid due honours to their mother, they determined to 
 dwell in a city of their own, and, for that purpose, to build 
 one in the place where they had their first nourishment. This 
 seems, at least, to be the most plausible reason of their quit¬ 
 ting Alba; and perhaps, too, it was necessary, as agreatnum« 
 ber of slaves and fugitives was collected about them, either to 
 see their affairs entirely ruined, if these should disperse, or 
 with them to seek another habitation; for that the people of 
 Alba refused to permit the fugitives to mix with them, or to 
 receive them as citizens, sufficiently appears from the rape of 
 the women, which was not undertaken out of a licentious hu 
 mour, but deliberately, and through necessity, from the want 
 of wives, since, after they seized them, they treated them 
 very honourably. 
 
 As soon as the foundation of the city was laid, they opened 
 a place of refuge for fugitives, which they called the temple 
 of the Asylaean God.* Here they received all that came, 
 md would neither deliver up the slave to his master, the 
 debtor to his creditor, nor the murderer to the magistrate, de¬ 
 claring that they were directed by the Oracle of Apollo to 
 preserve the asylum from all violation. Thus the city was 
 soon peopled ;t for it is said, that the houses at first did not 
 exceed a thousand. But of that hereafter. 
 
 * It is not certain who this God of Refuge was. Dionysius of Halicamaa 
 sus tells us, that, in his time, the place where the asylum had been, was 
 consecrated to Jupiter. Romulus did not at first receive the fug-itives and 
 outlaw s within the walls, but allowed them the hill Satumius, afterwards 
 called Capitolinus, for their habitation. 
 
 •{■ Most of the Trojans, of whom there still remained fifty families in Au 
 
ROMULUS. 
 
 65 
 
 While they were intent upon building, a dispute soon arose 
 about the place. Romulus having built a square, which be 
 called Rome, would have the city there; but Remus marked 
 out a more secure situation on mount Aventine, which, from 
 him was called Remonium,'* but now has the name of Rigna- 
 riun.. The dispute was referred to the decision of augury; 
 and for this purpose they set down in the open air, when Re¬ 
 mus, as they tell us, saw six vultures, and Romulus twice as 
 many. Some say Remus’s account of the number he had seen 
 was true, and that of Romulus not so; but when Remus came 
 up to him, he did really see twelve. Hence the Romans, in 
 their divination by the flight of birds, chiefly regard the vul¬ 
 ture; though Herodotus of Pontus relates, that Hercules used 
 to rejoice when a vulture appeared to him as he was going 
 upon any great action. This was probably because it is a 
 creature the least mischievous of any, pernicious neither to 
 corn, plants, nor cattle. It only feeds upon dead carcasses, 
 but neither kills nor preys upon any thing that has life. As 
 for birds, it does not touch them even when dead, because they 
 are of its own nature; while eagles, owls, and hawks, tear 
 and kill their own kind; and, as iEschylus has it:— 
 
 What bird is clean that fellow-birds devours? 
 
 Besides, other birds are frequently seen, and may be found 
 at any time; but a vulture is an uncommon sight, and we have 
 seldom met with any of their young; so that the rarity of them 
 has occasioned an absurd opinion in some, that they come to 
 us from other countries; and soothsayers judge every unusual 
 appearance to be preternatural, and the effect of a divine 
 power. 
 
 When Remus knew that he was imposed upon, he was high¬ 
 ly incensed; and as Romulus was opening a ditch round the 
 place where the walls were to be built, he ridiculed some 
 parts of the work, and obstructed others; at last, as he pre¬ 
 sumed to leap over it, some say he fell by the hand of Romu¬ 
 lus;! others by that of Celer, one of his companions. Faus- 
 
 gustus’s time, chose to follow the fortune of Romulus and Remus, as did also 
 the inhabitants of Pallantium and Saturnia, two small towns. 
 
 * We find no mention either of Remonium or Rignarium, in any othei 
 writer. An anonymous MS. reads Remoria; and Festus tells us (De Ling. 
 Latin, lib. ii.) the summit of mount Aventine was called Remuria. from the 
 time Remus resolved to build the city there. But Dionysius of Halicarnas¬ 
 sus speaks of mount Aventine and Remuria as two different places; and Ste- 
 phanus will have Remuria to have been a city in the neighbourhood of 
 Rome. 
 
 t The two brothers first differed about the place where their new city waj 
 e built, and referring the matter to their grandfather, he advised then 
 
 V oi,. j. -L 
 
66 
 
 ROMULUS. 
 
 tulus also fell in the scuffle ; and Plistinus, who, being brothei 
 to Faustulus, is said to have assisted in bringing Romulus up 
 Celer fled into Tuscan j; and from him such as are swift of 
 foot, or expeditious in business, are by the Romans called 
 celeres. Thus, when Quintus Metellus, within a few days 
 after his father’s death, provided a show of gladiators, the 
 people admiring his quick despatch, gave him the name of 
 Celer. 
 
 Romulus buried his brother Remus, together with his fos¬ 
 ter-fathers, in Remonia, and then built his city, having sent 
 for persons from Hetruria,* who (as is usual in sacred mys¬ 
 teries), according to stated ceremonies and written rules, were 
 to order and direct how every thing was to be done. First, a 
 circular ditch was dug about what is now called the Comitium, 
 or Hall of Justice, and the first fruits of every thing that is 
 reckoned either good by use, or necessary by nature, were 
 cast into it; and then each, bringing a small quantity of the 
 earth of the country from whence he came, threw it in pro¬ 
 miscuously.! This ditch had the name of Mundus, the same 
 with that of the universe. In the next place, they marked 
 out the city, like a circle, round this centre; and the foundei 
 having fitted to a plough a brazen plough-share, and yoked a 
 bull and cow himself, drew a deep furrow round the bounda¬ 
 ries. The business of those that followed was to turn all the 
 clods raised by the plough inwards to the city, and not to suf¬ 
 fer any to remain outwards. This line described the compass 
 of the city; and between it and the walls is a space called, by 
 
 to have it decided by augury. In this augury Romulus imposed upon Re¬ 
 mus; and when the former prevailed that the city should be built upon 
 mount Palatine, the builders being divided into two companies, were no 
 better than two factions. At last Remus in contempt leaped over the work, 
 and said ,—“ Just so will the enemy leap over it;” whereupon Celer gave 
 him a deadly blow, and answered,—“ In this manner will our citizens re¬ 
 pulse the enemy.” Some say, that Romulus was so afflicted at the death 
 of his brother, that he would have laid violent hands upon himself, if he had 
 not been prevented. 
 
 * The Hetrurians or Tuscans had, as Festus informs us, a sort of ritual 
 wherein were contained the ceremonies that were to be observed in building 
 cities, temples, altars, walls, and gates. They were instructed in augury 
 and religious rites by Tages, who is said to have been taught by Mercury. 
 
 j- Ovid does not say it was a handful of the earth each had brought out of 
 his own country, but of the earth he had taken from his neighbours; whicli 
 was done to signify, that Rome would soon subdue the neighbouring nations. 
 But Isidorus (lib xxv. cap. 2,) is of opinion, that by throwing the first-fruits 
 and a handful of earth into the trench, they admonish the heads of the colo¬ 
 ny, that it ought to be their chief study to procure for their fellow-citizens 
 ail the conveniencies of life, to maintain peace and union among ft a people 
 come together from different parts of the world, and by this to form them¬ 
 selves into a body never to be dissolved 
 
ROMULUS. 
 
 6*3 
 
 contraction, Pomerium, as lying behind or beyond the wall. 
 Where they designed to have a gate, they took the plough¬ 
 share out of the ground, and lifted up the plough, making a 
 break for it. Hence they look upon the whole wall as sacred 
 except the gateways. If they considered the gates in the same 
 light as the i est, it would be deemed unlawful either to re¬ 
 ceive the necessaries of life by them, or to carry out what is 
 unclean. 
 
 The day on which they began to build the city is univer¬ 
 sally allowed to be the 21st of April and is celebrated annual¬ 
 ly by the Romans as the birth-day of Rome. At first, we 
 are told, they sacrificed nothing that had life, persuaded that 
 they ought to keep the solemnity sacred to the birth of their 
 country pure, and without bloodshed. Nevertheless, before 
 the city was built, on that same day, they had kept a pastoral 
 feast called Palilia. * At present, indeed, there is very little 
 analogy between the Roman and the Grecian months; yet the 
 day on which Romulus founded the city is strongly affirmed 
 to be the 30th of the month. On that day, too, we are in¬ 
 formed, there was a conjunction of the sun and moon, attend 
 ed with an eclipse; the same that was observed by Antimachus 
 the Teian poet, in the third year of the sixth Olympiad. 
 
 Varro the philosopher, who of all the Romans was most 
 skilled in history, had an acquaintance named Tarutius, who, 
 besides his knowledge in philosophy and the mathematics, to 
 indulge his speculative turn, had applied himself to astrology, 
 and was thought to be a perfect master of it. To him Varro 
 proposed to find out the day and hour of Romulus’s birth, 
 making his calculation from the known events of his life, as 
 problems in geometry are solved by the analytic method; for 
 it belongs to the same science, when a man’s nativity is given, 
 to predict his life, and when his life is given, to find out his 
 nativity. Tarutius complied with the request; and when he 
 had considered the dispositions and actions of Romulus, how 
 long he lived, and in what manner he died, and had put all 
 these things together, he affirmed, without doubt or hesita¬ 
 tion, that his conception was in the first year of the second 
 Olympiad, on the 23rd day of the month which the Egyptians 
 call Cnoeac (December), at the third hour, when the sun was 
 totally eclipsed;t and that his birth was on the 23rd day of 
 
 * The Palilia, or Feast of Pales, is sometimes called Parilia, from the 
 Latin word, par ere, to bring forth, because prayers were then made for the 
 frui'iulness of the sheep. According* to Ovid (Fast. lib. iv.) the shepherds 
 then made a great feast at nig*ht, and concluded the whole with dancing 
 over the fil es they had made in the fields with heaps of straw. 
 
 f There was no total eclipse of the sun in the first year of the second 
 Olympiad, but in the second year of that Olympiad there was. If Romulus 
 
68 
 
 ROMULUS. 
 
 the month Thoth (September), about sun-rise; and that he 
 founded Rome on the 9th of the month Pharmuthi (April), 
 between the second and third hour;* for it is supposed that 
 the fortunes of cities, as well as men, have their proper pe¬ 
 riods determined by the positions of the stars at the time of their 
 nativity. These, and the like relations, may, perhaps, rather 
 please the reader, because they are curious, than disgust him, 
 because they arc fabulous. 
 
 When the city was built, Romulus divided the younger 
 part of the inhabitants into battalions. Each corps consisted 
 of three thousand foot, and three hundred horse, and was call¬ 
 ed a legion, because the most warlike persons were selected, t 
 The rest of the multitude he called the People. A hundred 
 of the most considerable citizens he took for his council, with 
 the title of Patricians, f and the whole body was called the Sen¬ 
 ate, which signifies an Assembly of Old Men. Its members 
 were styled Patricians; because, as some say, they were fa¬ 
 thers of free-born children; or rather, according to others, be¬ 
 cause they themselves had fathers to show, which was not 
 the case with many of the rabble that first flocked to the city 
 Others derive the title from Patrocinium , or Patronage, attri¬ 
 buting the origin of the term to one Patron, who came over 
 with Evander, and was remarkable for his humanity and care 
 of the distressed. But we shall be nearer the truth, if we con 
 
 was conceived in the year last named, it will agree with the common opin 
 ion, that he was eighteen years old when he founded Rome, and that Rome 
 was founded in the first year of the seventh Olympiad. 
 
 * There is gTeat disagreement among* historians and chronolog*ers, as 10 
 the year of the foundation of Rome. Varro places it in the third year of the 
 sixth Olympiad, 752 years before the Christian era; and Fabius Pictor, who 
 is the most ancient of all the Roman writers, and followed by the learned 
 Usher, places it in the end of the seventh Olympiad, which, according* to 
 that prelate, was in the year of the world 3256, and 748 before Christ. But 
 Dionysius Halicarnassus, Solinus, and Eusebius, place it in the first year of 
 the seventh Olympiad. 
 
 ■f Instead of this, Dionysius of Halicarnassus tells us (lib. ii. p. 76,) the 
 whole colony consisted of but 3300 men. These Romulus divided into three 
 equal parts, which he called tribes or thirds, each of which was to be com¬ 
 manded by its prefect or tribune. The tribes were divided into ten curie, 
 and these subdivided into ten decurae. The number of houses, or rather 
 huts, which was but a thousand, bears witness to the truth of Dionysius’s 
 assertion. But it is probable the mean rabble, who took the protection of 
 the asylum, and who might be very numerous, were not reckoned among 
 the 3300 first colonists, though they were afterwards admitted to the privi¬ 
 leges of citizens. 
 
 + The choice of these hundred persons was not made by the king himselfi 
 each tribe chose three senators, and each of the thirty curae the like number, 
 which made in all the number of ninety-nine; so that Romulus named onlj 
 the hundredth, who w r as the head, or prince of the senate, and the chief gov 
 emor nf the city, when the king was in the field. 
 
ROMULUS. 
 
 69 
 
 elude that Romulus styled them Patricians, as expecting these 
 respectable persons would watch over those in humble stations 
 with a paternal care and ragard: and teaching the common¬ 
 alty in their turn not to fear or envy the power of their su¬ 
 periors, but to behave to them with love and respect, both 
 looking upon them as fathers, and honouring them with that 
 name. For at this very time, foreign nations call the senators 
 iords, but the Romans themselves call them conscript fathers, 
 a style of greater dignity and honour, and withal much less 
 invidious. At first, indeed, they were called fathers only; 
 but afterwards, when more were enrolled in their body, con¬ 
 script fathers. With this venerable title, then, he distin¬ 
 guished the senate from the people. He likewise made ano¬ 
 ther distinction between the nobility and the commons, call¬ 
 ing the former patrons,* and the other clients; which was the 
 source of mutual kindness and many good offices between 
 them. For the patrons were to those they had taken under 
 their protection, counsellors and advocates in their suits at 
 law, and advisers and assistants on all occasions. On the 
 other hand, the clients failed not in their attentions, whether 
 they were to be shown in deference and respect, or in provid¬ 
 ing their daughters’ portions, or in satisfying their creditors, 
 if their circumstances happened to be narrow. No law or 
 magistrate obliged the patron to be evidence against his client, 
 or the client against his patron. But in after-times, though 
 the other claims continued in full force, it was looked upon as 
 ungenerous for persons of condition to take money of those 
 below them. 
 
 In the fourth month after the building of the city,t as Fa 
 bius informs us, the rape of the Sabine women was put in exe¬ 
 cution. Some say, Romulus himself, who was naturally war¬ 
 like, and persuaded by certain oracles, that the Fates had de¬ 
 creed Rome to obtain her greatness by military achievements, 
 began hostilities against the Sabines, and seized only thirty 
 virgins, being more desirous of war than of wives for his peo¬ 
 ple. But this is not likely; for, as he saw his city soon filled 
 
 * This patronage was as effectual as any consanguinity or alliance, and 
 had a wonderful effect towards maintaining union among the people for the 
 space of six hundred and twenty years, during which time we find no dis¬ 
 sensions or jealousies between the patrons and their clients, even in the time 
 of the republic, when the populace frequently mutinied against those who 
 were most powerful in the city. At last the great sedition raised by Caius 
 Gracchus, broke in upon that harmony. Indeed, a client who was wanting 
 in his duty to his patron, was deemed a traitor ^nd an outlaw, and liable tc 
 be put to death by any person whatever. It may be proper to observe, 
 that not only plebeians chose their patrons, but in time cities and states pul 
 themselves under the like protection. 
 
 f Gellius savs, it was in the fourth rear. 
 
 8 
 
70 
 
 ROMCLUS. 
 
 with inhabitants, very few of which were married, the great* 
 est part consisting of a mixed rabble of mean and obscure per 
 sons, to whom no regard was paid, and who were not expect 
 mg to settle in any place whatever, the enterprise naturally 
 took that turn; and he hoped that from this attempt, though 
 not a just one, some alliance and union with the Sabines would 
 be obtained, when it appeared that they treated the women 
 kindly. In order to this, he first gave out that he had found 
 the altar of some god, which had been covered with earth. 
 This deity they called Consus, meaning either the God of 
 Counsel (for with them the word consilium has that significa¬ 
 tion, and their chief magistrates afterwards were Consuls, per 
 sons who were to consult the public good ) 9 or else the Eques¬ 
 trian Neptune; for the altar in the Circus Maximus* is not 
 visible at other times, but during the Circensian games it is 
 uncovered. Some say, it was proper that the altar of that god 
 should be under ground, because counsel should be as private 
 and secret as possible. Upon this discovery, Romulus, by 
 proclamation, appointed a day for a splendid sacrifice, with 
 public games and shows. Multitudes assembled at the time, 
 and he liimself presided, sitting among his nobles, clothed in 
 
 E urple. As a signal for the assault, he was to rise, gather up 
 is robe, and fold it about him. Many of his people wore 
 swords that day, and kept their eyes upon him, watching for 
 the signal; which was no sooner given than they drew them, 
 and, rushing on with a shout, seized the daughters of the Sa¬ 
 bines, but quietly suffered the men to escape. Some say only 
 thirty were carried off, who each gave name to a tribe; but 
 Valerius Antius makes their number five hundred and twenty- 
 seven; and, according to Juba,t there were six hundred and 
 eighty-three, all virgins. This was the best apology for Ro¬ 
 mulus; for they had taken but one married woman, named 
 Hersilia, who was afterwards chiefly concerned in reconciling 
 them; and her they took by mistake, as they were not incited 
 to this violence by lust or injustice, but by their desire to con¬ 
 ciliate and unite the two nations in the strongest ties. Some 
 tell us Hersilia was married to Hostilius, one of the most 
 eminent men among the Romans; others, that Romulus him¬ 
 self married her, and had two children by her; a daughter 
 named Prima, on account of her being first-born, and an only 
 son, whom he called Aollius, because of the great concourse 
 
 * That is to say, in the ] lace where Ancus Martius afterwards built the 
 gTeat Circus for horse and cnariot races. 
 
 f This was the son of Juba, king* of Mauritania, who, being* brought very 
 young* a captive to Rome, was instructed in the Roman and Grecian litera* 
 ture, and became an excellent hii^pdan. Dionysius of Halicarnassus has 
 Allowed his account. 
 
ROMULUS. 
 
 71 
 
 of people to him, but after-ages Abillius. This account we 
 have from Zenodotus of Troezene, but he is contradicted in it 
 by many other historians. 
 
 Among those that committed this rape, we are told, some of 
 the meaner sort happened to be carrying off a virgin of uncom • 
 mon beauty and stature; and when some of superior rank that 
 met them attempted to take her from them, they cried out they 
 were conducting her to Talasius, a young man of excellent 
 character. When they heard this, they applauded their design; 
 and some even turned back and accompanied them with the 
 utmost satisfaction, all the way exclaiming Talasius. Hence 
 this became a term in the nuptial songs of the Romans, as 
 Hymenseus is in those of the Greeks; for Talasius is said to 
 have been very happy in marriage. But Sextius Sylla, the 
 Carthaginian, a man beloved both by the Muses and Graces, 
 told me, that this was the word which Romulus gave as a sig¬ 
 nal for the rape. All of them, therefore, as they were carry¬ 
 ing off the virgins, cried out Talasius; and thence it still con¬ 
 tinues the custom at marriages. Most writers, however, and 
 Juba in particular, are of opinion, that it is only an incite¬ 
 ment to good housewifery and spinning, which the word Ta - 
 lasia signifies; Italian terms being at that time thus mixed with 
 Greek. * If this be right, and the Romans did then use the 
 
 * The original, which runs thus, O/ tTg orxg/?To/ noit o loj2*c s;t/, 
 
 TTcLpsuttoo-tv tivcii it; <ptXipytctv Kctt •ra.XctG-tcLv, X7ru> tots to/? Exxmtx. 01 ; ovo/uckti tg>v 
 It nxtxMv i7nM%i>/uimv, is manifestly corrupted; and all the former translations, 
 following corrupt reading, assert what is utterly false, namely ,—“ that no 
 Greek terms were then mixed with the language of Italy.” The contrary 
 appears from Plutarch’s life of Numa, where Greek terms are mentioned as 
 frequently used by the Romans, t m Exxwutocv ovo/ucirav tots /ua.xxov n v’jv to/c 
 Acltivoi ? ety^xsxpfit^svav. 
 
 But, not to have recourse to facts, let us inquire into the several former 
 translations. The Latin runs thus:— Plerique ( inter quos est JubaJ adhorla- 
 tionem et incitationem ad laboris sedulitatem et lanijicium, quod Grasci t* xcto-tzv 
 dicunt , censent, nondurn id temporis Italicis verbis cum Graecis confusis. The 
 English thus :—“ But most are of opinion, and Juba in particular, that this 
 word Talasius was used to new-married women, by way of incitement to 
 housewifery; for the Greek word Talasia signifies spinning , and the lan¬ 
 guage of Italy was not yet mixed with the Greek.” The French of Dacier 
 thus —“ Cependant la plupart des auteurs croient, et Juba est meme de 
 cette opinion, que ce mot n’etoit qu’une exhortation qu’on faisoit aux ma- 
 riees d’aimer le travail, qui consiste a filer de la laine, que les Grecs appel- 
 lent Talasia; car ce tems-la la langue Grecque n’avoit pas encore ete cor- 
 rumpue par les mots Latins.” Thus they declare with one consent, that 
 the language of Italy was not yet mixed with the Greek; though it ap¬ 
 peal’s, from what was said immediately before, that Talasia , a Greek term, 
 was made use of in that language. Instead, therefore of htto, not yet, we 
 should most certainly read *to, thus: sr o tots to/? Exxuvtjtot; ovo/ucirt t a>v lruxuto)' 
 iTrui^y/xivccv, “ the language of Italy being at that time thus mixed with 
 Greek terms; for instance, Talasia .” By this emendation, which consist* 
 
72 
 
 ROMULUS. 
 
 word Talasia in the same sense with the Creeks, another and 
 more probable reason of the custom may be assigned. For 
 vvnen the Sabines, after the war with the Romans, were re¬ 
 conciled, conditions were obtained for the women, that they 
 should not be obliged by their husbands to do any other work 
 besides spinning. It was customary, therefore, ever after, that 
 they who gave the bride, or conducted her home, or were pre¬ 
 sent on the occasion, should cry out, amidst the mirth of the 
 wedding, Talasius; intimating that she was not to be employed 
 in any labour but that of spinning. And it is a custom still 
 observed for the bride not to go over the threshold of her hus¬ 
 band’s house herself, but to be carried over, because the Sabine 
 virgins did not go in voluntarily, but were carried in by vio¬ 
 lence. Some add, that the bride’s hair is parted with the 
 point of a spear, in memory of the first marriages being 
 brought about in a warlike manner; of which we have spoken 
 more fully in the Book of Questions. This rape was commit¬ 
 ted on the eighteenth day of the month then called Sextilis, 
 now August, at which time the feast of the Consualia is kept. 
 
 The Sabines were a numerous and warlike people, but they 
 dwelt in unwalled towns; thinking it became them, who were 
 a colony of the Lacedaemonians, to be bold and fearless. But 
 as they saw themselves bound by such pledges, and were very 
 solicitous for their daughters, they sent ambassadors to Romu¬ 
 lus with moderate and equitable demands; that he should re¬ 
 turn them the young women, and disavow the violence, and 
 then the two nations should proceed to establish a correspon¬ 
 dence, and contract alliances in a friendly and legal way. 
 Romulus, however, refused to part with the young women, 
 and entreated the Sabines to give their sanction to what had 
 been done; whereupon some of them lost time in consulting 
 and making preparations. But Acron, king of the Ceninen- 
 sians, a man of spirit, and an able general, suspected the ten¬ 
 dency of Romulus’s first enterprises; and, when he had be¬ 
 haved so boldly in the rape, looked upon him as one that 
 w;uld grow formidable, and indeed insufferable to his neigh- 
 
 only of the small alteration of the 7r into t, the sense is easy; the context 
 clear; Plutarch is reconciled to himself, and freed from the charge of con¬ 
 tradicting* in one breath what he had asserted in another. 
 
 If this wanted any other support, we might allege a passage from Plu¬ 
 tarch’s Marcellus, which, as well as that in the life of Numa, is express and 
 decisive. Speaking there of the derivation of the word Feretrius , an ap¬ 
 pellation which Jupiter probably first had in the time of Romulus, on occa¬ 
 sion of his consecrating to him the spolia opima , one account he gives of 
 the matter is, that Feretrius might be derived from <pt£trf>ov, the vehicle on 
 which the trophy was carried, xxru. <thv *E xk'iviS'cl yxaxro-ctv it t Troxxar toti 
 ruuyi/ury/umv Aetnwv; “ for at that time the Greek language was mu-ih 
 mixed with the Latin.” 
 
ROMUI ITS. 
 
 73 
 
 hours, except he were chastised. Acron, therefore, went to 
 seek the enemy, and Romulus prepared to receive him. 
 When they came in sight, and had well viewed each other, a 
 challenge for a single combat was mutually given, their forces 
 standing under arms in silence. Romulus on this occasion 
 made a vow, that if he conquered his enemy, he would him¬ 
 self dedicate his adversary’s arms to Jupiter. In consequence 
 of which, he both overcame Acron, and, after battle was join¬ 
 ed, routed his army and took his city; but he did no injury to 
 its inhabitants, unless it were such to order them to demol¬ 
 ish their houses, and follow him to Rome, as citizens entitled 
 to equal privileges with the rest. Indeed, there was nothing 
 that contributed more to the greatness of Rome, than that 
 she was always uniting and incorporating with herself those 
 whom she conquered. Romulus having considered how he 
 should perform his vow in the most acceptable manner to Ju¬ 
 piter, and withal make the procession most agreeable to his 
 people, cut down a great oak that grew in the camp, and 
 hewed it into the figure of a trophy; to this he fastened 
 Acron’s whole suit of armour, disposed in its proper form; 
 then he put on his own robes, and wearing a crown of laurel 
 on his head, his hair gracefully flowing, he took the trophy 
 erect upon his right shoulder, and so marched on, singing the 
 song of victory before his troops, which followed, completely 
 armed, while the citizens received him with joy and admira¬ 
 tion. This procession was the origin and model of future 
 triumphs. The trophy was dedicated to Jupiter Feretrius, 
 so called from the Latin word ferxre to smite; for Romulus 
 had prayed that he might have power to smite his adversary, 
 and kill him. Varro says, this sort of spoils is termed opima ,t 
 from opes , which signifies riches; but more probably they are 
 so styled from opus , the meaning of which is action; for when 
 the general of an army kills the enemy’s general with his 
 own hand, then only he is allowed to consecrate the spoils 
 called opima , as the sole performer of that action. + This ho 
 
 * Or from the word ferre, to earn/ , because Romulus had himself carried 
 to the temple of Jupiter the armour of the king he had killed; or, more 
 probably, from the Greek word pheretron , which Livy calls in Latin ferculum, 
 and which properly signifies a tropin/. 
 
 f Festus derives the word opima from ops , which signifies the earth, and 
 the riches it produces; so that opima spulia , according to that writer, signify 
 rich spoils. 
 
 + This is Livy’s account of the matter; but Varro, as quoted by Festus, 
 tells us, a Roman might be entitled to the spolia opima , though but a pri¬ 
 vate soldier, miles manipularis , provided he killed and despoiled the 
 enemy’s general. Accordingly, Cornelius Cossus had them for killing To- 
 lumnius, king of the Tuscans, though Cossus was but a tribune, who 
 fought under the command of JEmilius. Cossus, therefore, in all probabili* 
 
 Vo ., t.-M S* 
 
74 
 
 ROMULUS. 
 
 nour nas been conferred only on three Roman chiefs; first, on 
 Romulus, when he slew Acron the Ceninensian; next, on 
 Cornelius Cossus, for killingTolumnius the Tuscan; and last¬ 
 ly, on Claudius Marcellus, when Viridomarus, king of the 
 Gauls, fell by his hand. Cossus and Marcellus bore, indeed, 
 the trophies themselves, but drove into Rome in triumphal 
 chariots. But Dionysius is mistaken in saying that Romulus 
 made use of a chariot; for some historians assert, that Tarqui- 
 nius, the son of Demaratus, was the first of the kings that ad¬ 
 vanced triumphs to this pomp and grandeur. Others say, 
 Publicola was the first that led up his triumph in a chariot. 
 However, there are statues of Romulus bearing these trophies 
 yet to be seen in Rome, which are all on foot. 
 
 After the defeat of the Ceninenses, while the rest of the Sa¬ 
 bines were busied in preparations, the people of Fidenae, 
 Crustumenium, and Antemnae, united against the Romans. A 
 battle ensued, in which they were likewise defeated, and sur¬ 
 rendered to Romulus their cities to be spoiled, their lands to 
 be divided, and themselves to be transplanted to Rome. All 
 the lands thus acquired he distributed among the citizens, ex¬ 
 cept what belonged to the parents of the stolen virgins; for 
 those he left in the possession of their former owners. The 
 rest of the Sabines, enraged at this, appointed Tatius their 
 general, and carried war to the gates of Rome. The city 
 was difficult of access, having a strong garrison on the hill 
 where the Capitol now stands, commanded by Tarpeius, not 
 by the virgin Tarpeia, as some say, who in this represent Ro¬ 
 mulus as a very weak man. However, this Tarpeia, the go¬ 
 vernor’s daughter; charmed with the golden bracelets of the 
 Sabines, betrayed the fort into their hands, and asked, in re¬ 
 turn for her treason, what they wore on their left arms. Ta 
 tius agreeing to the condition, she opened one of the gates by 
 night, and let in the Sabines. It seems it was not the senti¬ 
 ment of Antigonus alone, who said,—“He loved men while 
 they were betraying, but hated them when they had betray¬ 
 ed;” nor of Caesar, who said, in the case of Rhymitalces the 
 Thracian,—“He loved the treason, but hated the traitor:” 
 but men are commonly affected towards villains, whom they 
 have occasion for, just as they are towards venomous crea¬ 
 tures, which they have need of for their poison and their gall. 
 While they are of use they love them, but abhor them when 
 their purpose is effected. Such were the sentiments of Tatius 
 with regard to Tarpeia, when he ordered the Sabines to re¬ 
 member their promise, and to grudge her nothing which they 
 
 ly, did not enter Rome in a triumphal chariot, but followed that of t is 
 general, with the trophy on his shoulder. 
 
ROMULUS. 
 
 7 5 
 
 had on their left arms. He was the first to take off his brace¬ 
 let, and throw it to her, and with that his shield.* As every 
 one did the same, she was overpowered by the gold and 
 shields thrown upon her, and, sinking under the weight, ex- 
 
 f ured. Tarpeius, too, was taken, and condemned by Romu- 
 us for treason, as Juba writes after Sulpitius Galba. As for 
 the account given of Tarpeia by other writers, among whom 
 Antigonus is one, it is absurd and incredible. They say, that 
 she was daughter to Tatius the Sabine general, and being com¬ 
 pelled to live with Romulus, she acted and suffered thus by 
 her father’s contrivance. But the poet Simulus makes a most 
 egregious blunder, when he says, Tarpeia betraying the Capi¬ 
 tol, not to the Sabines, but to the Gauls, having fallen in love 
 with their king. Thus he writes:— 
 
 From her high dome, Tarpeia, wretched maid. 
 
 To the fell Gauls the Capitol betray’d; 
 
 The hapless victim of unchaste desires, 
 
 .She lost the fortress of her sceptred sires. 
 
 And a little after concerning her death, 
 
 No amorous Celt, no fierce barbarian bore 
 The fair Tarpeia to his stormy shore; 
 
 Press’d by those shields, whose splendour she admir’d. 
 
 She sunk, and in the shining death expir’d. 
 
 From the place where Tarpeia was buried, the hill had the 
 name of the Tarpeian, till Tarquin consecrated the place to 
 Jupiter, at which time her bones were removed, and so it lost 
 her name, except that part of the Capitol from which male¬ 
 factors are thrown down, which is still called the Tarpeian 
 rock. The Sabines thus possessed of the fort, Romulus in 
 great fury offered them battle, which Tatius did not decline, 
 as he saw he had a place of strength to retreat to in case he 
 was worsted; and, indeed the spot on which he was to engage 
 being surrounded with hills, seemed to promise on both sides 
 a sharp and bloody contest, because it was so confined, and the 
 outlets were so narrow, that it was not easy either to fly or to 
 pursue. It happened, too, that, a few days before, the river 
 had overflowed, and left a deep mud on the plain* where the 
 forum now stands, which, as it was covered with a crust, was 
 not easily discoverable by the eye, but at the same time was 
 soft underneath, and impracticable. The Sabines, ignorant 
 
 * Piso and other historians say, that Tatius treated her in this manner, be¬ 
 cause she acted a double part, and endeavoured to betray the Sabines to 
 Romulus, while she was pretending to betray the Romans to them. 
 
7G 
 
 ROMULUS. 
 
 of this, were pushing forward into it, but by good fortune 
 were prevented; for Curtius, a man of high distinction and 
 spirit, being mounted on a good horse, advanced a considera¬ 
 ble way before the rest. * Presently his horse plunged into the 
 slough, and for a while he endeavoured to disengage him, en¬ 
 couraging him with his voice, and urging him with blows; but 
 finding ail ineffectual, he quitted him, and saved himself. 
 From him the place to this very time is called the Curtian lake. 
 The Sabines, having escaped this danger, began the fight with 
 great bravery. The victory inclined to neither side, though 
 many were slain, and among the rest Hostilius, who, they 
 say, was husband to Hersilia, and grandfather to that Hosti 
 lius who reigned after Numa. It is probable there were many 
 other battles in a short time; but the most memorable was the 
 last, in which Romulus having received a blow upon the head 
 with a stone, was almost beaten down to the ground, and no 
 longer able to oppose the enemy; then the Romans gave way, 
 and were driven from the plain as far as the Palatine hill. By 
 this time Romulus, recovering from the shock, endeavoured 
 by force to stop his men in their flight, and loudly called up 
 on them to stand and renew the engagement; but when he saw 
 the rout was general, and that no one had courage to face 
 about, he lifted up his hands towards heaven, and prayed 
 to Jupiter to stop the army, and to re-establish and maintain 
 the Roman cause, which was now in extreme danger. When 
 the prayer ended, many of the fugitives were struck with re¬ 
 verence for their king, and their fear was changed into cou¬ 
 rage. They first stopped, where now stands the temple of 
 Jupiter Stator, so called, from his putting a stop to their flight. 
 There they engaged again, and repulsed the Sabines as far as 
 the palace now called Regia, and the temple of Vesta. 
 
 When they were preparing here to renew the combat, with 
 the same animosity as at first, their ardour was repressed by 
 an astonishing spectacle, which the powers of language are 
 
 * Livy and Dionysius of Halicarnassus relate the matter otherwise. They 
 tell us, that Curtius at first repulsed the Romans; but being* in his turn over¬ 
 powered by Romulus, and endeavouring* to make g*ood his retreat, he hap¬ 
 pened to fall into the lake, which from that time bore his name; for it was 
 called Lacus Curtius, even when it was dried up, and almost in the centre 
 of the Roman forum. Procilius says, that the earth having* opened, the 
 Aruspices declared it necessary, for the safety of the republic, that the 
 oravest man in the city should throw himself into the g*ulf; whereupon one 
 Curtius, mounting* on horseback, leaped (armed) into it, and the gulf im¬ 
 mediately closed. Before the building of the common sewers, this pool was 
 a sort of sink, which received all the filth of the city. Some writers tliink 
 that it received its name from Curtius the consul, colleague to M. Genucius, 
 because he caused it to be walled in, by the advice of the Aruspices, after 
 it had been struck with lightning Yarro de Ling. Lat. 1. iv. 
 
ROMULUS. 
 
 7 
 
 unable to describe. The daughters ot the Sabines, that had 
 been forcibly carried off, appeared rushing this way and that, 
 with loud cries and lamentations, like persons distracted, 
 amidst the drawn swords, and over the dead bodies, to come 
 at their husbands and fathers; some carrying their infants in 
 their arms, some darting forward, with dishevelled hair, but 
 all calling, by turns, both upon the Sabines and the Romans 
 by the tenderest names. Both parties were extremely moved, 
 and room was made for them between the two armies. Their 
 lamentations pierced to the utmost ranks, and all were deep¬ 
 ly affected, particularly, when their upbraiding and complaints 
 ended in supplication and entreaty.—“ What great injury have 
 we done you,” said they, 66 that we have suffered, and do still 
 suffer, so many miseries? We were carried off by those who 
 now have us violently and illegally; after this violence we were 
 so long neglected by our brothers, our fathers, and relations, 
 that we were necessitated to unite in the strongest ties with 
 those that were the objects of our hatred; and we are now 
 brought to tremble for the men that had injured us so much 
 when we see them in danger, and to lament them when they 
 fall; for you came not to deliver us from violence, while vir¬ 
 gins, or to avenge our cause, but now you tear the wives from 
 their husbands, and the mothers from their children; an assist¬ 
 ance more grievous to us than all your neglect and disregard. 
 Such love we experienced from them, and such compassion 
 from you. Were the war undertaken in some other cause, 
 yet surely you would stop its ravages for us, who have made 
 you fathers-in-law and grandfathers, or otherwise placed you 
 in some near affinity to those whom you seek to destroy; but 
 :f the war be for us, take us, with your sons-in-law and their 
 children, and restore us to our parents and kindred; but do 
 not, we beseech you, rob us of our children and husbands, lest 
 we become captives again.” Hersilia having said a great 
 deal to this purpose, and others joining in the same request, 
 a truce was agreed upon, and the generals proceeded to a con¬ 
 ference. In the meantime, the women presented their hus¬ 
 bands and children to their fathers and brothers, brought re¬ 
 freshments to those that wanted them, and carried the wound¬ 
 ed home to be cured. Here they showed them, that they had 
 the ordering of their own houses, what attentions their hus¬ 
 bands paid them, and with what respect and indulgence they 
 were treated. Upon this a peace was concluded, the condi¬ 
 tions of which‘were, that such of the women as chose to re¬ 
 main with their husbands, should be exempt from all labour 
 and drudgery, except spinning, as we have mentioned above; 
 that the city should be inhabited by the Romans and Sabines, 
 in common, with the name of Rome, from Romulus; but ilia* 
 
78 
 
 ROMULUS. 
 
 all the citizens, from Cures, the capital of the Sabines, and the 
 country of Tatius, should be called Quirites;'* and that the 
 regal power, and the command of the army, should be 
 equally shared between them. The place where these articles 
 were ratified, is still called Comitium,t from the Latin word 
 coire , which signifies to assemble . 
 
 The city having doubled the number of its inhabitants, a 
 hundred additional senators were elected from among the Sa¬ 
 bines, and the legions were to consist of six thousand foot, and 
 six hundred horse. % The people, too, were divided into 
 three tribes, called Rhamnenses, from Romulus; Tatienses, 
 from Tatius; and Lucerenses, from the Lucus or Grove, where 
 the asylum stood, whither many had fled, and were admit 
 ted citizens. That they were precisely three, appears from 
 the very name of Tribes, and that of their chief officers, who 
 were called Tribunes. 'Each tribe contained ten Curias , or 
 wards, which some say were called after the Sabine women. 
 But this seems to be false, for many of them have their names 
 from the several quarters of the city which were assigned to 
 them. Many honourable privileges, however, were confer¬ 
 red upon the women; some of which were these: that the men 
 should give them the way, wherever they met them; that 
 they should not mention an obscene word, or appear naked, 
 before them; that, in case of their killing any person, they 
 should not be tried before the ordinary judges; and that theii 
 
 * The word Quins , in the Sabine language, signified both a dart, and a 
 warlike deity armed with a dart. It is uncertain whether the god gave 
 name to the dart, or the dart to the god; but however that be, this god 
 Quiris or Quirinus, was either Mars, or some other god of war, and was wor¬ 
 shipped in Rome till Romulus, who, after his death, was honoured with the 
 name Quirinus, took his place. 
 
 t The Comitium was at the foot of the hill Palatinus, over-against the 
 Capitol. Not far from thence the two kings built the temple of Vulcan, 
 where they usually met to consult the senate about the most important af¬ 
 fairs. 
 
 + Ruauld, in his animadversions upon Plutarch, has discovered two con¬ 
 siderable errors in this place. The first is, that Plutarch affirms there 
 were six hundred horse put by Romulus in every legion; whe.reas there 
 never were, at any time, so many in any of the legions. For there were at 
 first two hundred horse in each legion; after that, they rose to three hun¬ 
 dred, and at last to four hundred, but never came up to hundred. In 
 the second place, he tells us, that Romulus made the legion to consist ct six 
 thousand foot: whereas, in his time, it was never more than three thousand. 
 11 is said by some, that Marius was the first who raised the legion to six 
 thousand; but Livy informs us, that that augmentation was made by Scipio 
 \fricanus, long before Marius. After the expulsion of the kings, it was 
 augmented from three to four thousand, and some time after to five, and at 
 last by Scipio (as we have said) to six. But this was never done but upon 
 pressing occasions. The stated force of a legion was four thousand foot, 
 and two hundred horse. 
 
ROMULUS. 
 
 79 
 
 children should wear an ornament about their necks, called 
 Bulla,* from its likeness to a bubble, and a garment bordered 
 with purple. The two kings did not presently unite their 
 councils, each meeting, for some time, their hundred senators 
 apart; but afterwards they all assembled together. Tatius dwelt 
 where the temple of Moneta now stands, and Romulus by the 
 Steps of the Fair Shore, as they are called, at the descent from 
 the Palatine hill to the Great Circus. There, we are told, 
 grew the sacred Cornel-tree, the fabulous account of which is, 
 that Romulus once, to try his strength, threw a spear, whose 
 shaft was of cornel-wood, from Mount Aventine to that place; 
 the head of which stuck so deep in the ground, that no one 
 could pull it out, though many tried; and the soil being rich, 
 so nourished the wood, that it shot forth branches, and became 
 a trunk of cornel, of considerable bigness. This posterity 
 preserved with a religious care, as a thing eminently sacred, 
 and, therefore, built a wall about it; and when any one that 
 approached it, saw it not very flourishing and green, but in¬ 
 clining to fade and wither, he presently proclaimed it to all he 
 met, who, as if they were to assist in case of fire, cried out 
 for water, and ran from all quarters with full vessels to the 
 place. But when Caius Ccesar ordered the steps to be repair¬ 
 ed, and the workmen were digging near it, it is said, they in¬ 
 advertently injured the roots in such a manner, that the tree 
 withered away. 
 
 The Sabines received the Roman months. All that is of 
 importance on this subject is mentioned in the life of Numa. 
 Romulus, on the other hand, came into the use of their shields, 
 making an alteration in his own armour, and that of the Ro¬ 
 mans, who before wore bucklers in the manner of the Greeks. 
 They mutually celebrated each other’s feasts and sacrifices, 
 not abolishing those of either nation, but over and above ap¬ 
 pointing some new ones; one of which is the Matronalia,t 
 
 * The young 1 men, when they took upon them the Toga virilis , or man’s 
 robe, quitted the Bulla , which is supposed to have been a little hollow ball 
 of g*old, and made an offering 1 of it to the Dii Lares , or household g*ods. As 
 to the Praelexta , or robe edg*ed with purple, it was worn by girls, till their 
 marriag-e, and by boys, till they were seventeen. But what in the time of 
 Romulus was a mark of distinction for the children of the Sabine women, 
 became afterwards very common; for even the children of the Liberti , or 
 freedmen, wore it. 
 
 -( During 1 this feast, such of the Roman women as were married, served 
 their slaves at table, and received presents from their husbands, as the hus¬ 
 bands did from their wives in the time of the Saturnalia. As the festival of 
 the Matronalia was not only observed in honour of the Sabine women, but 
 consecrated to Mai's, and, as some will have it, to Juno Lucina, sacrifices 
 were offered to both these deities. This feast was the subject of Horace’s 
 Ode, Martiis coelebs quid ogam calendls, 8tc. ar 1 OviU ^escribes it at large 
 
80 
 
 ROMULUS. 
 
 instituted in honour cf the women, for their putting an end to 
 the war; and another, the Carmentalia.* Carmenta is by some 
 supposed to be one of the destinies who presides oyer human 
 nativities; therefore, she is particularly worshipped by mo¬ 
 thers. Others say, she was wife to Evander the Arcadian, 
 and a woman addicted to divination, who received inspirations 
 from Apollo, and delivered oracles in verse; thence called 
 Carmenta, for carmina signifies verse; but her proper name 
 as is agreed on all hands, was Nicostrata. Others again, with 
 
 g reater probability assert, that the former name was given her 
 ecause she was distracted with enthusiastic fury; for carere 
 mente signifies to be insane . Of the feast of Palilia we have al¬ 
 ready given an account. As for the Lupercalia,t by the time, it 
 should seem to be a feast of lustration; for it was celebrated 
 on one of the inauspicious days of the month of February, 
 which name denotes it to be the month of purifying; and the 
 day was formerly called Februata. But the true meaning of 
 Lupercalia is the feast of wolves; and it seems, for that reason, 
 to be very ancient, as received from the Arcadians who came 
 over witn Evander. This is the general opinion. But the 
 term may be derived from lupa a she-wolf; for we see the Lu- 
 perci begin their course from the place where they say Ro¬ 
 mulus was exposed. However, if we consider the ceremo¬ 
 nies, the reason of the name seems hard to guess: for first, 
 goats are killed; then two noblemen’s sons are introduced, 
 and some are to stain their foreheads with a bloody knife, 
 others to wipe off the stain directly, with wool steeped in 
 milk, which they bring for that purpose. When it is wip¬ 
 ed off, the young men are to laugh. After this they cut 
 the goats’ skins in pieces, and run about all naked, except their 
 middle, and lash with those thongs all they meet. The young 
 women avoid not the stroke, as they think it assists concep¬ 
 tion and child-birth. Another thing proper to this feast is, 
 for the Luperci to sacrifice a dog. Butas, who in his Elegies 
 has given a fabulous account of the origin of the Roman in¬ 
 stitutions, writes, that when Romulus had overcome Amulius, 
 in the transports of victory, he ran with great speed to the 
 place where the wolf suckled him and his brother, when in¬ 
 fants; and that this feast is celebrated, and the young noble- 
 
 tn the Third Book of Fasti. Dacier says, by mistake, that this feast was 
 kept on the 1st of April, instead of the 1st of March, and the former En¬ 
 glish annotator has followed him. 
 
 * Tliis is a very solemn feast, kept on the 11th of January, under th« 
 Capitol, near the Carmental gate. They begged of this goddess to render 
 their women fruitful, and to give them happy deliveries. 
 
 j- This festival was celebrated on the 11th of February, in honour of the 
 p*od Pan. 
 
ROMULUS. 81 
 
 men run, in imitation of that action, striking all that are m 
 liieir way:— • 
 
 As the fam’d twins of Rome, Amulius slain, 
 
 From Alba pour’d, and with their reeking swords 
 Saluted all they met.- 
 
 And the touching of the forehead with a bloody knife, is a 
 symbol of that slaughter and danger, as the wiping off the 
 blood with milk is in memory of their first nourishment. But 
 Caius Acilius relates, that, before the building of Rome, Romu¬ 
 lus and Remus having lost their cattle, first prayed to Faunus 
 for success in the search of them, and then ran out naked to 
 seek them, that they might not be incommoded with sweat; 
 therefore the Luperci run about naked. As to the dog, if 
 this be a feast of lustration, we may suppose it is sacrificed, in 
 order to be used in purifying; for the Greeks, in their puri¬ 
 fications, make use oi dogs, and perform the ceremonies which 
 they call Periskulakismm. But if these rites are observed, in 
 gratitude to the wolf that nourished and preserved Romulus, 
 it is with propriety they kill a dog, because it is an enemy to 
 wolves; yet, perhaps, nothing more was meant by it than to 
 punish that creature for disturbing the Luperci in their run¬ 
 ning. 
 
 Romulus is likewise said to have introduced the sacred fire, 
 and to have appointed the holy virgins called Vestals.* Others 
 attribute this to Numa, but allow that Romulus was remark 
 ably strict in observing other religious rites, and skilled in 
 divination; for which purpose he bore the Lituus . This is a 
 crooked staff, with which those that sit to observe the fligh 
 of birds,t describe the several quarters of the heavens. It wa, 
 kept in the Capitol, but lost when Rome was taken by the 
 Gauls; afterwards, when the barbarians had quitted it, it was 
 found buried deep in ashes, untouched by the fire, whilst every 
 tiring about it was destroyed and consumed. Romulus also 
 enacted some laws; amongst the rest that severe one, which 
 forbids the wife in any case to leave her husband, J but gives 
 
 * Plutarch means that Romulus was the first who introduced the sacred 
 fire at Rome. That there were vestal virgins, however, before this, at Alba, 
 we are certain, because the mother of Romulus was one of them. The sa¬ 
 cred and perpetual fire was not only kept up in Italy, but in Egypt, in Per¬ 
 sia, in Greece, and almost in all nations. 
 
 ■\ The Augurs. 
 
 \ Yet this privilege, which Plutarch thinks a hardship upon the women, 
 was indulged the men by Moses in greater latitude. The women, however, 
 among the Romans, came at length to divorce their husbands, as appears 
 from Juvenal (Sat. ix.) and Martial (1. x. ep. 41.) At the same time, it 
 must be observed, to the honour of Roman virtue, that no divorce was 
 
 Vm,i.-N 0 
 
82 
 
 ROMULUS. 
 
 the husband power to divorce his wife, in case of her poison¬ 
 ing his children, or counterfeiting his keys, or being guilty of 
 adultery. But if, on any other occasion, he put her away, she 
 was to have one moiety of his goods, and the other was to be 
 consecrated to Ceres; and whoever put away his wife was to 
 make an atonement to the gods of the earth. It is something 
 particular, that Romulus appointed no punishment for actual 
 parricides, but called all murder parricide, looking upon this 
 as abominable; and the other as impossible. For many ages, 
 indeed, he seemed to have judged rightly; no one was guilty 
 of that crime in Rome for almost six hundred years; and Lu¬ 
 cius Ostius, after the wars of Hannibal, is recorded to have 
 been the first that murdered his father. 
 
 In the fifth year of the reign of Tatius, some of his friends 
 and kinsmen meeting certain ambassadors who were going 
 from Laurentum to Rome,* attempted to rob them on the 
 road, and, as they would not suffer it, but stood in their own 
 defence, killed them. As this was an atrocious crime, Romu¬ 
 lus required that those who committed it should immediately 
 be punished, but Tatius hesitated and put it off. This was 
 the first occasion of any open variance between them; for till 
 now they had behaved themselves as if directed by one soul, 
 and the administration had been carried on with all possible 
 unanimity. The relations of those that were murdered, find¬ 
 ing they could have no legal redress from Tatius, fell upon 
 him and slew him at Lavinium, as he was offering sacrifice 
 with Romulus ;t but they conducted Romulus back with ap¬ 
 plause, as a prince who paid all proper regard to justice. To 
 the body of Tatius he gave an honourable interment, at Armi- 
 lustrium,^ on Mount Aventine; but he took no care to re¬ 
 venge his death on the persons that killed him. Some histo¬ 
 rians write, that the Laurentians in great terror gave up the 
 murderers of Tatius; but Romulus let them go, saying— 
 “ Blood with blood should be repaid. ” This occasioned a re 
 
 known at Rome for five hundred and twenty years. One P. Servilius, or 
 Carvilius Spurius, was the first of the Romans that ever put away his wife. 
 
 * Dionysius of Halicarnassus says, they were ambassadors from Lavinium, 
 who had been at Rome to complain of the incursions made by some of Ta- 
 tius’s friends upon their territories; and that as they were returning, the 
 Sabines lay in wait tor them on the road, stripped them, and killed several 
 of them. Lavinium and Laurentum were neighbouring towns in Latium. • 
 f Probably this was a sacrifice to the Dii Indigenes of Latium, in whi;h 
 Rome was included. But Licinius writes, that Tatius went not thither with 
 Romulus, nor on account of the sacrifice, but that he went alone to persuade 
 the inhabitants to pardon the murderers. 
 
 t The place was so called, because of a ceremony of the same name, ce 
 lebrated every year on the 19th of October, when the troops were muster 
 vid, and purified bv sacrifices. 
 
ROMULUS. 
 
 • 83 
 
 port, and, indeed a strong suspicion, that he was not sorry to 
 get rid of his partner in the government. None of these 
 things, however, occasioned any disturbance or sedition 
 among the Sabines; but partly out of regard for Romulus, 
 partly out of fear of his power, or because they reverenced 
 him as a god, they all continued well affected to him. This 
 veneration for him extended to many other nations. The an¬ 
 cient Latins sent ambassadors, and entered into league and 
 a'liance with him. Fidenae, a city in the neighbourhood of 
 Rome, he took, as some say, by sending a body of horse he 
 fore with orders to break the hinges of the gates, and then 
 appearing unexpectedly in person. Others will have it, that 
 the Fidenates first attacked and ravaged the Roman territo¬ 
 ries, and were carrying off considerable booty, when Romulus 
 lay in ambush for them, cut many of them off, and took their 
 city. He did not, however, demolish it, but made it a Roman 
 colony, and sent into it two thousand five hundred inhabit¬ 
 ants on the 13th of April. 
 
 After this, a plague broke out, sc fatal, that people died of 
 it without any previous sickness; while the scarcity of fruits, 
 and barrenness of the cattle, added to the calamity. It rained 
 blood too in the city; so that their unavoidable sufferings 
 were increased with the terrors of superstition: and when tne 
 destruction spread itself to Laurentum, then all agreed it was 
 for neglecting to do justice to the murderers of the ambassa¬ 
 dors and of Tatius, that the divine vengeance pursued both 
 cities. Indeed, when those murderers were given up and 
 
 6 unished by both parties, their calamities visibly abated; and 
 lOmulus purified the city with lustrations, which, they tell 
 us, are yet celebrated at the Ferentine gate. Before the pesti¬ 
 lence ceased, the people of Cameria* attacked the Romans, 
 and overran the country, thinking them incapable of resist¬ 
 ance by reason of the sickness. But Romulus soon met them 
 in the field, gave them battle, in which he killed six thousand 
 of them, took their city, and transplanted half its remaining 
 inhabitants to Rome; adding, on the first of August, to those 
 he left in Cameria, double their number from Rome; so many 
 people had he to spare in about sixteen years time from the 
 building of the city. Among other spoils, he carried from 
 Cameria a chariot of brass, which he consecrated in the tem¬ 
 ple of Vulcan, placing upon it his own statue crowned by 
 victory. 
 
 His affairs thus flourishing, the weaker part of his neigh¬ 
 bours submitted, satisfied, if they could but live in peace; but 
 
 * This was a town which Romulus had taken before. Its old inhabitant* 
 took tills opportunity to rise in arms, and kill the Roman garrison. 
 
ROMULUS. 
 
 S4 
 
 the more powerful, dreading or envying Romulus, thought 
 they should not by any means let him go unnoticed, but op¬ 
 pose and put a stop to his growing greatness. The Veientes, 
 who had a strong city and extensive country,* were the first 
 of the Tuscans who began the war, demanding Fidense as 
 their property. But it was not only unjust, but ridiculous, 
 that they, who had given the people of Fidenae no assistance 
 in the greatest extremities, but had suffered them to perish, 
 should challenge their houses and lands now in the possession 
 of other masters. Romulus, therefore, gave them a con¬ 
 temptuous answer; upon which they divided their forces into 
 two bodies; one attacked the garrison of Fidenae, and the 
 other went to meet Romulus. That which went against Fi¬ 
 denae defeated the Romans, and killed two thousand of them; 
 but the other was beaten by Romulus, with the loss of more 
 than eight thousand men. They gave battle, however, once 
 more at Fidenae, where all allow the victory was chiefly owing 
 to Romulus himself, whose skill and courage were then re¬ 
 markably displayed, and whose strength and swiftness appear¬ 
 ed more than human. But what some report is entirely fabu¬ 
 lous, and utterly incredible, that there fell that day fourteen 
 thousand men, above half of whom Romulus slew with his 
 own hand. For even the Messenians seem to have been ex¬ 
 travagant in their boasts, when they tell us Aristomenes of¬ 
 fered a hecatomb three several times, for having as often 
 killed a hundred Lacedaemonians, t After the Veientes were 
 thus ruined, Romulus suffered the scattered remains to escape, 
 and marched directly to their city. The inhabitants could 
 not bear up after so dreadful a blow, but humbly suing for a 
 peace, obtained a truce for a hundred years, by giving up a 
 considerable part of their territory called Septempagium, 
 which signifies a district of seven towns, together with the 
 salt-pits by the river; besides which, they delivered into his 
 hands fifty of their nobility as hostages. He triumphed for 
 this on the 15th of October, leading up, among many other 
 captives, the general of the Veientes, a man in years, who 
 seemed on this occasion not to have behaved with the pru¬ 
 dence which might have been expected from his age. Hence 
 it is that, to this day, when they offer a sacrifice for victory, 
 they lead an old man through the forum to the Capitol, in a 
 
 * Veii, the capital of Tuscany, was situated on a craggy rock, about one 
 hundred furlong's from Rome; and is compared by Dionysius of .Halicarnassus 
 to Athens for extent and riches. 
 
 f Pausanias confirms this account, mentioning both the time and place of 
 these achievements, as well as the hecatombs offered on account of them to 
 Jupiter Ithomates. Those wars between the Messenians and Spartans, 
 » r ere about the time of Tullus Hostilius. 
 
ROMULUS. 
 
 Doy’s robe, edged with purple, with a bulla about his neck, 
 ana the herald cries,—“ Sardians to be sold;”* for the Tus¬ 
 cans are said to be a colony of the Sardians, and Veii is a city 
 of Tuscany. 
 
 This was the last of the wars of Romulus. After this he be¬ 
 haved as almost all men do who rise by some great and unex- 
 
 E ected good fortune to dignity and power; for, exalted with 
 is exploits, and loftier in his sentiments, he dropped his 
 popular affability, and assumed the monarch to an odious de¬ 
 gree. He gave the first offence by his dress; his habit being 
 a purple vest, over which he wore a robe bordered with pur¬ 
 ple. He gave audience in a chair of state. He had always 
 about him a number of young men called Celeres,t from their 
 despatch in doing business; and before him went men with 
 staves to keep off the populace, who also wore thongs of lea¬ 
 ther at their girdles, ready to bind directly any person he 
 should order to be bound. This binding the Latins formerly 
 called ligare^X now alligare , whence those serjeants are called 
 Lictores , and their rods fasces; for the sticks they used on that 
 occasion were small; though, perhaps, at first they were call¬ 
 ed Litores , and afterwards, oy putting in a c, Lictores; for they 
 are the same that the Greeks called Leitourgoi (officers for the 
 people); and leitos in Greek still signifies the people , but laos the 
 populace. 
 
 When his grandfather Numitor died in Alba, though the 
 crown undoubtedly belonged to him, yet, to please the people, 
 he left the administration in their own hands; and over the 
 Sabines§ (in Rome) he appointed yearly a particular magis¬ 
 trate; thus teaching the great men of Rome to seek a free 
 commonwealth without a king, and by turns to rule and to 
 obey; for now the patricians had no share in the government, 
 but only an honourable title and appearance, assembling in the 
 senate-house more for form than business. There, with si 
 lent attention, they heard the king give his orders, and differ' 
 ed only from the rest of the people in this, that they went 
 home with the first knowledge of what was determined. This 
 
 * The Veientes, with the other Hetrurians, were a colony of Lydians, 
 whose metropolis was the city of Sardis. Other writers date this custom 
 from the time of the conquest of Sardinia by Tiberius Sempronius Gracchus, 
 when such a number of slaves was brought from that island, that none were 
 to be seen in the market but Sardinians. 
 
 f Romulus ordered the Curiae to choose him a guard of three hundred 
 men, ten out of each Curiae; and these he called Celeres, for the reason 
 which Plutarch has assigned. 
 
 + Plutarch had no critical skill in the Latin language. 
 h Xy lander and H. Stephanus are rationally enough of opinion, that in¬ 
 stead of Sabines we should read Albans; and so the Latin translator ren¬ 
 ders h. 
 
 9* 
 
86 
 
 ROMULUS. 
 
 treatment they digested as well as they could; but when, ot 
 his own authority, he divided the conquered lands among the 
 soldiers, and restored the Veientes their hostages, without 
 the consent or approbation of the senate, they considered it as 
 an intolerable insult. Hence arose strong suspicions against 
 them, and Romulus soon after unaccountably disappeared. 
 This happened on the 7th of July (as it is now called,) then 
 Quintilis; and we have no certainty of any thing about it but 
 the time; various ceremonies being still performed on that day 
 with reference to the event. Nor need we wonder at this 
 uncertainty, since, when Scipio Africanus was found dead in 
 nis house after supper,'* there was no clear proof of the man¬ 
 ner of his death; for some say, that being naturally infirm, he 
 died suddenly; some, that he took poison; and others that his 
 enemies broke into his house by night and strangled him. 
 Besides, all were admitted to see Scipio’s dead body, and 
 every one, from the sight of it, had his own suspicion or opin¬ 
 ion of the cause. But as Romulus disappeared on a sudden, 
 and no part of his body, or even his garments could be found, 
 some conjectured, that the senators, who were convened in 
 the temple of Vulcan, fell upon him and killed him, after 
 which each carried a part away under his gown. Others say, 
 that his exit did not happen in the temple of Vulcan, nor in 
 the presence of the senators only, but while he was holding an 
 assembly of the people without the city, at a place called the 
 Goat’s Marsh. The air, on that occasion, was suddenly con¬ 
 vulsed and altered in a wonderful manner; for the light of the 
 sun failed,! and they were involved in an astonishing darkness, 
 attended on every side with dreadful thunderings, and tem¬ 
 pestuous winds. The multitude then dispersed and fled, but 
 the nobility gathered into one body. When the tempest was 
 over, and the light appeared again, the people returned to the 
 same place, and a very anxious inquiry was made for the king; 
 but the patricians would not suffer them to look closely into 
 the matter. They commanded them to honour and worship 
 
 * This was Scipio, the son of Paulus JLmilius, adopted by Scipio Africa¬ 
 nus. As he constantly opposed the designs of the Gracchi, it was supposed 
 that his wife Sempronia, who was sister to those seditious men, took him 
 off by poison. According to Valerius Maximus, no judicial inquiry was 
 made into the cause of his death; and Victor tells us, the corpse was carried 
 out, with the face covered with a linen cloth, that the blackness of it might 
 not appear. 
 
 •j- Cicero mentions this remakable darkness in a fragment of his sixth book 
 de Repub. And it appears from the astronomical tables, that there was a 
 great eclipse of the sun in the first year of the sixteenth Olympiad, suppos¬ 
 ed to be the year that Romulus died, on the 26th of May; which, consider¬ 
 ing the little exactness there was then in the Roman calendar, might very 
 well coincide with the month of July. 
 
ROMULUS. 
 
 87 
 
 Romulus, who was caught up to heaven, and who, as he had 
 been a gracious king, would be to the Romans a propitious 
 deity. Upon this, the multitude went away with great satis¬ 
 faction, and worshipped him, in hopes of his favour and protec¬ 
 tion. Some, however, searching more minutely into the affair, 
 gave the patricians no small uneasiness: they even accused 
 them of imposing upon the people a ridiculous tale, when they 
 had murdered the king with their own hands. 
 
 While things were in this disorder, a senator, we are told, 
 of great distinction, and famed for sanctity of manners, Julius 
 Proculus by name,* who came from Alba with Romulus, and 
 had been his faithful friend, went into the forum, and declar¬ 
 ed upon the most solemn oaths, before all the people, that as he 
 was travelling on the road, Romulus met him, in a form more 
 noble and august than ever, and clad in bright and dazzling 
 armour. Astonished at the sight, he said to him,—“ For 
 what misbehaviour of ours, 0 king, or by what accident, have 
 you so untimely left us, to labour under the heaviest calum¬ 
 nies, and the whole city to sink under inexpressible sorrow?” 
 To which he answered,—“It pleased the gods, my good 
 Proculus, that we should dwell with men for a time; and after 
 having founded a city, which will be the most powerful and 
 glorious in the world, return to heaven, from whence we 
 came. Farewell, then, and go tell the Romans that, by the 
 exercise of temperance and fortitude, they shall attain the 
 highest pitch of human greatness, and I, the god Quirinus, will 
 ever be propitious to you.” This, by the character and oath 
 of the relater, gained credit with the Romans, who were 
 caught with the enthusiasm, as if they had been actually in¬ 
 spired; and, far from contradicting what they had heard, bade 
 adieu to all their suspicions of the nobility, united in the dei¬ 
 fying of Quirinus. and addressed their devotions to him. 
 This is very like the Grecian fables concerning Aristeas the 
 Proconnesian, and Cleomedes the Astypalesian. For Aristeas, 
 as they tell us, expired in a fuller’s shop; and when his friends 
 came to take away the body, it could not be found. Soon af¬ 
 ter, some persons coming in from a journey, said they met 
 Aristeas travelling towards Croton. As for Cleomedes, their 
 account of him is, that he was a man of gigantic size and 
 strength; but behaving in a foolish and frantic manner, he was 
 guilty of many acts of violence. At last he went into a school, 
 where he struck the pillar that supported the roof with his 
 fist, and broke it asunder, so that the roof fell in and destroyed 
 the children. Pursued for this, he took refuge in a great 
 chest, and having shut the lid upon him, he held it down so 
 
 A descendant of lulus, or Ascanins. 
 
88 
 
 ROMULUS 
 
 fast, that many men together could not force it open; when 
 they had cut the chest in pieces, they could not find him either 
 dead or alive. Struck with this strange affair, they sent to 
 consult the oracle at Delphi, and had from the priestess this 
 answer:— 
 
 The nice of heroes ends in Cleomedes. 
 
 It is likewise said that the body of Alcmena was lost, as 
 they were carrying it to the grave, and a stone was seen lying 
 on the bier in its stead. Many such improbable tales are told 
 by writers who wanted to deify beings naturally mortal. It is 
 indeed impious and illiberal to leave nothing of divinity to 
 virtue; but at the same time, to unite heaven and earth in the 
 same subject, is absurd. We should therefore reject fables, 
 when we are possessed of undeniable truth; for according to 
 Pindar: 
 
 The body yields to death’s all-powerful summons. 
 
 While the bright image of eternity 
 S urvive s.- 
 
 This alone is from the gods; from heaven it comes, and to 
 heaven it returns; not indeed with the body; but when it is 
 entirely set free and separate from the body, when it becomes 
 disengaged from every thing sensual and unholy. For, in 
 the language of Heraclitus, the pure soul is of superior excel 
 lence,* darting from the body like a flash of lightning from a 
 cloud; but the soul that is carnal and immersed in sense,t like 
 
 * This is a very difficult passage. The former translator, with an unjusti¬ 
 fiable liberty, has turned a.v'rx yct^ di^>» A virtuous soul is pure and 
 
 unmixed light; which, however excellent the sentiment, as borrowed from 
 the scripture, where he had found that God is light , is by no means the sense 
 of the original. 
 
 Dacier has translated it literally Vdme seche , and remarks the propriety of 
 the expression, with respect to that position of Heraclitus, that fire is the 
 first principle of all things. The French critic went upon the supposed an¬ 
 alogy between fire and dryness; but there is a much more natural and more 
 obvious analogy, which may help us to the interpretation of this passage; 
 that is, the near relation which dryness has to purity or cleanliness; and in¬ 
 deed we find the word used metaphorically in the latter sense— Zx^u 
 
 TgSTCi. 
 
 f Milton, in his Comus, uses the same comparison; for which, however, lie 
 is indebted rather to Plato than to Plutarch:— 
 
 -The lavish act of sin 
 
 Lets in defilement to the inward parts. 
 
 The soul grows clotted by contagion, 
 
 Imbodies, and imbrutes, till she quite lose 
 The divine property of her first being. 
 
 Such are those thick and gloomy shadows damp. 
 
 Oft seen in charnal vaults and sepulchres. 
 
ROMULUS. 
 
 89 
 
 \ heavy and dark vapour, with difficulty is kindled and as¬ 
 pires. There is therefore no occasion, against nature, to send 
 the bodies of good men to heaven; but we are to conclude, 
 that virtuous souls, by nature and the divine justice, rise from 
 men to heroes, from heroes to genii; and at last, if, as in the 
 Mysteries, they be perfectly cleansed and purified, shaking 
 of!* all remains of mortality, and all the power of the passions, 
 then they finally attain the most glorious and perfect happi¬ 
 ness, and ascend from genii to gods, not by the vote of the 
 people, but by the just and established order of nature.'* 
 
 The sirname that Romulus had of Quirinus, some think was 
 given him as (another) Mars; others, because they call the 
 Roman citizens Quirites; others, again, because the ancients 
 gave the name of Quiris to the point of a spear, or to the spear 
 itself; and that of Juno Quiritus to the statues of Juno, when 
 she was represented leaning on a spear. Moreover, they 
 styled a certain spear, which was consecrated in the palace, 
 Mars; and those that distinguished themselves in war w T ere 
 rewarded with a spear. Romulus, then, as a martial or war¬ 
 rior god, was named Quirinus; and the hill on which his tem¬ 
 ple stands, has the name of Quirinalis on his account. The 
 day on which he disappeared, is called the Jlight of the people 
 and Nonas Caprotinas , because then they go out of the city to 
 offer sacrifice at the Goat’s Marsh. On this occasion they pro¬ 
 nounce aloud some of their proper names, Marcus and Caius 
 for instance, representing the flight that then happened, and 
 their calling upon one another, amidst the terror and confu¬ 
 sion. Others, however, are of opinion that this is not a re¬ 
 presentation of flight, but of haste and eagerness, deriving the 
 ceremony from this source. When the Gauls, after the tak¬ 
 ing of Rome, were driven out by Camillus, and the city, 
 thus weakened, did not easily recover itself, many of the La¬ 
 tins, under the conduct of Livius Posthumus, marched against 
 it. This army sitting down before Rome, a herald was sent 
 to signify, that the Latins were desirous to renew their old 
 alliance and affinity, which was now declining, by new inter¬ 
 marriages. If, therefore, they would send them a good num¬ 
 ber of their virgins and widow T s, peace and friendship should 
 
 Ling’ring and sitting’ by a new-made grave. 
 
 As loth to leave the body that it lov’d; 
 
 And links itself by carnal sensuality. 
 
 To a degenerate and degraded state. 
 
 • Ilesiod was the first who distinguished those four natures, men, heroes, 
 genii, and gods. He saw room, it seems, for perpetual progression and 
 improvement in a state of immortality. And when the heathens tell us, that 
 before the last degree, that of divinity, is reached, those beings are liable 
 to be replunged into their primitive state of darkness, one would imagine 
 they had heard something of the fallen angels. 
 
 VOL. I -O 
 
90 
 
 K0MUJLUS-. 
 
 be established between them, a3 it was before with the Sabine? 
 on the like occasion. When the Romans heard this, though 
 they were afraid of war, yet they looked upon the giving up 
 of their women as not at all more eligible than captivity. 
 While they were in this suspense, a servant maid named Pin- 
 lotis, or, according to others, Tutola, advised them to do nei¬ 
 ther, but by a stratagem, which she had thought of, to avoid 
 both the war and the giving of hostages. The stratagem was 
 to dress Philotis herself, and other handsome female slaves, 
 in good attire, and send them, instead of free-born virgins, to 
 the enemy. Then, in the night, Philotis was to light up a 
 torch (as a signal,) for the Romans to attack the enemy, and 
 despatch them in their sleep. The Latins were satisfied, and 
 the scheme put in practice. For accordingly Philotis did set 
 up a torch on a wild fig-tree, screening it behind with curtains 
 and coverlets from the sight of the enemy, whilst it was visi¬ 
 ble to the Romans. As soon as they beheld it, they set out in 
 great haste, often calling upon each other at the gates to be 
 expeditious. Then they fell upon the Latins, who expected 
 nothing less, and cut them in pieces. Hence, this feast, in 
 memory of the victory. The day was called Nonas Caprotinx , 
 on account of the wild fig-tree , in the Roman tongue caprificus. 
 The women are entertained in the fields in booths made of the 
 branches of the fig-tree; and the servant-maids, in companies, 
 run about and play; afterwards they come to blows, and throw 
 stones at one another; in remembrance of their then assisting 
 and standing by the Romans in the battle. These particulars 
 are admitted but by few historians. Indeed their calling upon 
 each others’ names in the day-time, and their walking in pro 
 cession to the Goat’s Marsh,* like persons that were going to 
 a sacrifice, seems rather to be placed to the former account; 
 though possibly both these events might happen, in distant 
 periods, on the same day. Romulus is said to have been fifty- 
 four years of age, and in the thirty-eighth of his reign, t when 
 lie was taken from the woild. 
 
 * Instead ot a>; in buKarrctv, the reading in Bryan’s text, which has no 
 tolerable sense, an anonymous copy gives us And that to 
 
 sacrifice , or rather to offer up prayers at a sacrifice, is in one sense of olkax^uv, 
 appears from the scholiast on Sophocles’ Trachinise , where he explains 
 by tn <roov Sunw This signification, we suppose it 
 
 gained from the loud accent in which those prayers were said or sung. 
 
 •f Dionysius of Halicarnassus (and indeed Plutarch himself, in the begin¬ 
 ning of the life of Numa) says, that Romulus left the world in the thirty-se¬ 
 venth year after the foundation of Rome. But perhaps those two historians 
 may be reconciled as to the age he died at; for Plutarch says, he was then 
 full fifty-four years of age, and Dionysius that he was in his fifty-fifth year 
 
ROMULUS AND THESEUS 
 
 COMPARED. 
 
 This is all I have met with that deserves to be related con¬ 
 cerning Romulus and Theseus. And to come to the compa¬ 
 rison;* first it appears, that Theseus was inclined to great en¬ 
 terprises, by his own proper choice, and compelled by no 
 necessity, since he might have reigned in peace at Troezene, 
 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. Be¬ 
 sides, the greatest action of Romulus was the killing of one 
 tyrant in Alba: but the first exploits of Theseus, performed 
 occasionally, and by way of prelude only, were those of de¬ 
 stroying Sciron, Sinnis, Procrustes, and the club-bearer; by 
 whose punishment and death he delivered Greece from seve¬ 
 ral cruel tyrants, before they for whose preservation he was 
 labouring, knew him. Moreover, he might have gone safely 
 to Athens by sea, without any danger from robbers. But 
 Romulus could have no security while Amulius lived. This 
 difference is evident. Theseus, wdien unmolested himself, 
 went forth to rescue others from their oppressors. On the 
 other hand, Romulus and his brother, while they were unin¬ 
 jured by the tyrant themselves, quietly suffered him to exer¬ 
 cise 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 conquer 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 enterprise with respect to the Cretan 
 tribute, when he voluntarily offered to go among the young 
 men and virgins, whether ne was to expect to be food for 
 some wild beast, or to be sacrificed 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 
 
 * Nothing’ can be more excellent than these parallels of Plutarch. He 
 weighs the virtues and vices of men in so just a balance, and puts so true 
 an estimate on their good and bad qualities, that the reader can not attend 
 to them without infinite advantage. 
 
92 
 
 ROMULUS AND THESEUS COMPARED. 
 
 easy to express his courage and magnanimity, his regard Joi 
 justice and the public good; and his love of glory and of vir¬ 
 tue. On this occasion, it appears to me that the philosophers 
 have not ill defined love to be a remedy provided by the gods for 
 the safety and preservation 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 af¬ 
 fected towards him. And if she alone was sensible of that 
 tenderness, I may justly pronounce her worthy the love of a 
 god,t as she showed so great a regard for virtue and excellence 
 in her attachment to so woithy a man. 
 
 Both Theseus and Romulus were born with political talents; 
 vet neither of them preserved the proper character of a king, 
 out deviated from the due medium, the one erring on the side 
 of democracy, the other on that of absolute power, 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 cultivating what is 
 suitable to his dignity. He 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 contempt of his 
 subjects. The former seems to be the error of a mild and hu¬ 
 mane 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 in their dif 
 ferent manners and passions, here we shall find, that unrea¬ 
 sonable anger, with quick and unadvised resentment, is to be 
 imputed both to Romulus, 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 excusable, from 
 the greater cause he had for resentment, as yielding to the 
 heavier blow. For, as the dispute began when Romulus was 
 in cool consultation for the common good, J one would think 
 he could not presently have given way to such a passion; 
 whereas Theseus was urged against his son, by emotions 
 
 * Vide Plat . Conviv. 
 
 -j- Plutarch here enters into the notion of Socrates, who teaches, that it is 
 the love of virtue and real excellence which alone can unite us to the Su¬ 
 preme Being*. But though this maxim is g*ood, it is not applicable to. Ari¬ 
 adne. For where is the virtue of that princess, who fell in love with a 
 6trang*er at first sight, and hastened to the completion of her wishes tlirough 
 the ruin of her kindred and her county. 
 
 $ Plutarch does not seem to have had a just idea of the contest between 
 Romulus and Remus. The two brothers were not so solicitous about the 
 situation of their new city, as which of them should have the command in 
 when it was built. 
 
ROMULUS AND THESEUS COMPARED. 
 
 93 
 
 wnicli iew men have )een aWe to withstand, proceeding from 
 love, jealousy, and 1 le false suggestions of his wife. What 
 is more, the anger of Romulus discharged itself in an action 
 of most unfortunate consequence; but that of Theseus pro 
 ceeded no further than words, reproaches, and imprecations, 
 the usual revenge of old men. The rest of the young man’s 
 misery seems to have been owing to fortune. Thus far The¬ 
 seus seems to deserve the preference. 
 
 But Romulus has, in the first place, this great advantage, 
 that he rose 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 be¬ 
 stowed it on almost all the Latins; gaining at once the most 
 glorious title, as destroyers of their enemies, deliverers of their 
 kindred, kings of nations, and founders of cities, not trans¬ 
 planters, as Theseus was, who filled indeed one city with peo¬ 
 ple, but it was by ruining many others, which bore the names 
 of ancient kings and heroes. And Romulus afterwards effect 
 ed the same, when he compelled his enemies to demolish 
 their habitations, and incorporate with their conquerors. He 
 had not, however, a city ready built, to enlarge, or to trans¬ 
 plant 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, having neither house nor habitation, willingly became 
 his citizens and people. He did not, indeed, like Theseus, 
 destroy 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 iEneas. 
 Moreover, he voluntarily did him many kind offices, but 
 never injured him, not even inadvertently. On the other 
 hand, I think, Theseus, in forgetting or neglecting the com¬ 
 mand about the sail, can scarcely, by any excuses, or before 
 the mildest judges, avoid the imputation of parricide. Sensi¬ 
 ble 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, iEgeus ran in great haste to ihe 
 citadel for the better view of it, and missing his step, 'ell 
 down; as if Ii3 were destitute of servants, or went, in what¬ 
 ever hurry, unattended to the sea. 
 
 Moreover, Theseus’s rapes and offences, with respect, to 
 women, admit of no plausible excuse; because, in the first 
 
 IQ 
 
94 
 
 UOMULUS AND THESEUS COMPARED. 
 
 place, they were committed often; for he carried off Ariadne, 
 Antiope, and Anaxo the Troezenian; 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 Lacedaemonians, and 
 the Amazons, were not more fit to bring children, than those 
 of the Athenians, sprung from Erechtheus and Cecrops. 
 These things, therefore, are liable to the suspicion of a wanton 
 and licentious 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 dis¬ 
 tributed the rest among the most respectable citizens. And 
 afterwards, by the honourable and affectionate treatment he 
 procured them, he turned that injury and violence into a glo¬ 
 rious exploit, performed with a political view to the good ol 
 society. Thus he united and cemented the two nations to¬ 
 gether, and opened a source of future kindness, and of addi¬ 
 tional power. Time bears witness to the conjugal modesty, 
 tenderness, and fidelity, which he established; for during twi 
 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 tha 
 killed his father and mother, so all the Romans know, that 
 Spurius Carvilius was the first that divorced his wife, alleg¬ 
 ing her barrenness, t 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 go¬ 
 vernment, by means of these alliances. But the marriages of 
 Theseus procured the Athenians no friendship with any othei 
 state; on the contrary, enmity, wars, the destruction of their 
 citizens, and at last the loss of Aphidnae; which only through 
 the compassion of the enemy, whom the inhabitants supplica¬ 
 ted and honoured like gods, escaped the fate that befel Troy 
 by means of Paris. However, the mother of Theseus, de¬ 
 serted 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 
 
 * These numbers are wrong-in Plutarch: for Dionysius of Halicarnassus 
 marks the time with great exactness, acquainting- us, that it was 520 years 
 after the building- of Rome, in the consulate of M. Pomponius Matho and C. 
 Papirius Masso. 
 
 f Carvilius made oath before the censors, that he had the best regard for 
 his wife, and that it was solely in compliance with the sacred engagement 
 of marriage, the design of which was to have children, that he divorced her, 
 But this did not hinder his character from being ever after odious to the peo¬ 
 ple, who thought he had set a very pernicious example. 
 
ROMVLCd AND 1HKVKUS COMPARED. 
 
 05 
 
 to the stories we have concerning both, of a supernatural kind, 
 the difference is great. For Romulus was preserved by the 
 signal favour of heaven; but as the oracle which commanded 
 ^Rgeus not to approach any woman in a foreign country, was 
 not observed, the birth of Theseus appears to have been un¬ 
 acceptable to the gods. 
 
THE 
 
 LIFE OF LYCURGUS.* 
 
 Of Lycurgus the lawgiver we have nothing to relate that 
 is certain and uncontroverted. For there are different accounts 
 of his birth, his travels, his death, and especially of the laws 
 and form of government which he established. But least of 
 all are the times agreed upon in which this great man lived. 
 For some say he flourished at the same time with Iphitus,t 
 and joined with him in settling the cessation of arms during 
 the Olympic games. Among these is Aristotle the philoso¬ 
 pher, who alleges for proof an Olympic quoit, on which was 
 preserved the inscription of Lycurgus’s name. But others 
 who, with Eratosthenes and Apollodorus, compute the time by 
 the successions of the Spartan kings, J place him much earlier 
 
 * The life of Lycurgus was the first which Plutarch published, as he him 
 self observes in the fife of Theseus. He seems to have had a strong attach¬ 
 ment to the Spartans and their customs, as Xenophon likewise had: for, be 
 sides this life, and those of several other Spartan chiefs, we have a treatise 
 of his on the laws and customs of the Lacedaemonians, and another of Laco¬ 
 nic Apophthegms. He makes Lycurgus in all things a perfect hero, and 
 alleges his behaviour as a proof, that the wise man, so often described bv 
 the philosophers, was not a mere ideal character, unattainable by human 
 nature. It is certain, however, that the encomiums bestowed upon him 
 and his laws by the Delphic oracle, were merely a contriv ance between the 
 Pythoness and himself; and some of his laws, for instance, that concerning 
 the women, were unexceptionable. 
 
 •f- lphitus, king of Elis, is said to have instituted, or rather restored, the 
 Olympic games, 108 years before what is commonly reckoned the first Olym¬ 
 piad, which commenced in the year before Christ 776, or, as some will have 
 it, 774, and bore the name of Corcebus, as the following Olympiads did those 
 of other victors. 
 
 lphitus began with offering a sacrifice to Hercules, whom the Eleans be¬ 
 lieved to have been upon some account exasperated against them. He next 
 ordered the Olympic games, the discontinuance of which was said to have 
 caused a pestilence, to be proclaimed all over Greece, with a promise of 
 free admission to all comers, and fixed the time for the celebration of ;hem. 
 He likewise took upon himself to be sole president and judge of those 
 games, a privilege which the Piseans had often disputed with his prede¬ 
 cessors, and which continued to his descendants, as long' as the real dignity 
 subsisted. After this, the people appointed two presidents, which in time 
 increased to ten, and at length to twelve. 
 
 t Strabo says, that Lycurgus, the lawgiver, certainly lived in the fifth 
 generation after Althemenes, v:ao led a colony into Crete. This Althemo 
 
LYCURGUS. 
 
 97 
 
 than the first Olympiad. Timaeus, however, supposes, that, as 
 there were two Lycurguses in Sparta, at different times, the 
 actions of both are ascribed to one, on account of his particular 
 renown; and that the more ancient of them lived not long aftei 
 Homer. Nay, some say he had seen him. Xenophon, too, 
 confirms the opinion of his antiquity, when he makes him con¬ 
 temporary with the Heraclidae. It is true, the latest of the 
 Lacedaemonian kings were of the lineage of the Heraclidae. 
 But Xenophon there seems to speak of the first and more im¬ 
 mediate descendants of Hercules.* As the history of those 
 times is thus involved, in relating the circumstances of Lycur- 
 gus’s life, we shall endeavour to select such as are least con¬ 
 troverted, and follow authors of the greatest credit. 
 
 Simonides, the poet, tells us that Pritanisn, or Eunomus, 
 was father to Lycurgus. But most writers give us the gene¬ 
 alogy of Lycurgus and Eunomus in a different manner; for, 
 according to them, Soils was the son of Patrocles, and grand¬ 
 son of Aristodemus, Eurytion the son of Sous, Prytanus of Eu- 
 rytion, and Eunomus of Prytanis; to this Eunomus was born 
 Polydectes, by a former wife, and by a second, named Dia- 
 nassa, Lycurgus. Eutychides, however, says Lycurgus was 
 the sixth from Patrocles, and the eleventh from Hercules. The 
 most distinguished of his ancestors was Sotis, under whom the 
 Lacedaemonians made the Helotes their slaves,! and gained an 
 extensive tract of land from the Arcadians. Of this Sous it is 
 related, that being besieged by the Clitorians in a difficult post 
 where there was no water, he agreed to give up all his con¬ 
 quests, provided that himself and all his army should drink of 
 the neighbouring spring. When these conditions were sworn 
 to, he assembled his forces, and offered his kingdom to the 
 man that would forbear drinking; not one of them, however, 
 could deny himself, but they all drank. Then Sotis went 
 down to the spring himself, and having only sprinkled his face 
 in the sight of the enemy, he marched off, and still held the 
 country, because all had not drank. Yet though he was highly 
 honoured for this, the family had not their name from him, 
 
 nes was the son of Cissus, who founded Argos at the same time that Patro¬ 
 cles, Lycurgus’s ancestor ip the fifth degree, laid the foundation of Sparta. 
 So that Lycurgus flourished some short time after Solomon, about 900 years 
 Defore the Christian era. 
 
 * This passage is in Xenophon’s excellent treatise concerning the republic 
 of Sparta, from which Plutarch has taken the best part of this life. 
 
 t The Helotes, or llotes, were inhabitants of Helos, a maritime town of 
 Laconia. The Lacedaemonians having conquered and made slaves of them, 
 called not only them, but all the other slaves they happened to have, by the 
 name of Helotes. It is certain, however, that the descendants of the origi 
 rial Helotes , though they were extremely ill treated, and some of them assas¬ 
 sinated, subsisted many ages in Laconia. 
 
 Vox-. I,-P 10* 
 
98 
 
 LYCURGUS. 
 
 bat, from his son, were called Eurytionidse ,* and this, because 
 Eurytion seems to be the first who relaxed the strictness of' 
 kingly government, inclining to the interest of the people, and 
 ingratiating himself with them. Upon this relaxation, their 
 encroachments increased, and the succeeding kings, either be¬ 
 coming odious, treating them with greater rigour, or else giv¬ 
 ing way through weakness, or in hopes of favour, for a long 
 time anarchy and confusion prevailed in Sparta; by which one 
 of its kings, the father of Lycurgus, lost his life. For while 
 he was endeavouring to part some persons who were concern 
 ed in a fray, he received a wound by a kitchen-knife, of which 
 he died, leaving the kingdom to his eldest son, Polydectcs, 
 
 But he, too, dying soon after, the general voice gave it for 
 Lycurgus to ascend the throne; and he actually did so, till it 
 appeared that his brother’s widow was pregnant. As soon as 
 he perceived this, he declared that the kingdom belonged to 
 her issue, provided it were male, and he kept the administra¬ 
 tion in his hands only as his guardian. This he did with the 
 title of Prodicosy which the Lacedaemonians give to the guar¬ 
 dians of infant kings. Soon after the queen made him a pri¬ 
 vate overture, that she would destroy her child upon condi¬ 
 tion that he would marry her, when king of Sparta. Though 
 he detested her wickedness, he said nothing against the pro 
 posal, but pretending to approve it, charged her not to take any 
 drugs to procure an abortion, lest she should endanger her own 
 health or life; for he would take care that the child, as soon 
 as born, should be destroyed. Thus he artfully drew on the 
 woman to her full time; and, when he heard she was in la¬ 
 bour, he sent persons to attend and watch her delivery, with 
 orders, if it were a girl, to give it to the women, but if a boy, 
 to bring it to him, in whatever business he might be engaged. 
 It happened that he was at supper, with the magistrates when 
 she was delivered of a boy, and his servants, who were pre^ 
 sent, carried the child to him. When he received it, he is re- 
 
 * It may be proper here to give the reader a short view of the regal go¬ 
 vernment of Lacedaemon, under the Herculean line. The Heraclidze having 
 driven out Tisamenes the son of Orestes, Eurysthenes and Procles, the sons 
 of Aristodemus, reigned in that kingdom. Under them the government took 
 a new form, and, instead of one sovereign became subject to two. These 
 two brothers did not divide the kingdom between them, neither did they 
 agree to reign alternately, but they resolved to govern jointly, and with 
 equal power and authority. What is surprising is, that, notwithstanding 
 their mutual jealousy, this diarchy did not end with these two brothers, but 
 continued under a succession of thirty princes of the line of Eurysthenes, 
 and twenty-seven of that of Procles. Eurysthenes was succeeded by his 
 son Agis, from whom all the descendants of that line were sumained Agidac* 
 as the other hne took the name of Eurytionidx , from Eurytion, the grand 
 son of Procles, Pe trodc s, or Protocles.— Pausa?i. Slrab . it at. 
 
LYCURGUS. 
 
 99 
 
 ported to have said to the company, “ Spartans, see here yoiu 
 new-born king.” He then laid him down upon the chair of 
 state, and named him Charilaus, because of the joy and admi 
 ration of his magnanimity and justice, testified by all present;. 
 Thus the reign of Lycurgus lasted only eight months. But 
 the citizens had a great veneration for him on other accounts: 
 and there were more that paid him their attentions, and were 
 ready to execute his commands, out of regard to his virtues, 
 than those that obeyed him as a guardian to the king, and di¬ 
 rector of the administration. There were not, however, want¬ 
 ing those that envied him, and opposed his advancement, as 
 too high for so young a man; particularly the relations and 
 friends of the queen-mother, who seemed to have been treated 
 with contempt. Her brother, Leonidas, one day boldly at¬ 
 tacked him with virulent language, and scrupled not to tell 
 him, that he was well assured he would soon be king; thus 
 preparing suspicions, and matter of accusation against Lycur 
 gus, in case any accident should befall the king. Insinuations 
 of the same kind were likewise spread by the queen-mother. 
 Moved with this ill-treatment, and fearing some dark design, 
 he determined to get clear of all suspicion, by travelling into 
 other countries till his nephew should be grown up, and have 
 a son to succeed him in the kingdom. 
 
 He set sail, therefore, and landed in Crete. There, having 
 observed the forms of government, and conversed with the 
 most illustrious personages, he was struck with admiration of 
 some of their laws,'* and resolved at his return to make use of 
 them in Sparta. Some others he rejected. Among the friends 
 he gained in Crete was Thales,t with whom he had interest 
 enough to persuade him to go and settle at Sparta. Thales 
 was famed tor his wisdom and political abilities; he was withal 
 a lyric poet, who, under colour of exercising his art, perform¬ 
 ed as great things as the most excellent lawgivers. For his 
 odes were so many persuasives to obedience and unanimity; 
 as by means of melody and numbers they had great grace and 
 
 * The most ancient writers, as Ephorus, Callisthenes, Aristotle, and Plato, 
 a-e of opinion, that Lycurgus adopted many tilings in the Cretan polity. 
 But Polybius will have it that they are all mistaken:— “ At Sparta,” says he 
 (ih his sixth book), “ the lands are equally divided among all the citizens*, 
 wealth is banished; the crown is hereditary; whereas in Crete the contrary 
 obtains.” But this does not prove that Lycurgus might not take some good 
 laws and usages from Crete, and leave what he thought defective. There 
 is, indeed, so great a conformity between the laws of Lycurgus and those 
 of Minos, that we must believe, with Strabo, that these were the foundation 
 of the other. 
 
 f This Thales, who was a poet and musician, must be distinguished from 
 Thales the Milesian, who was one of the seven wise men of Greece. Tha 
 ^oet lived 250 years before the pliilosopher. 
 
100 
 
 LYCURGUS. 
 
 power, they softened insensibly the manners of the audience, 
 drew them off from the animosities which then prevailed, tnd 
 united them in zeal for excellence and virtue. So that, in 
 some measure, he prepared the way for Lycurgus towards the 
 instruction of the Spartans. From Crete Lycurgus passed to 
 Asia, desirous, as is said, to compare the Ionian* * * § expense and 
 luxury with the Cretan frugality and hard diet, so as to judge 
 what effect each had on their several manners and govern 
 ments; just as physicians compare bodies that are weak and 
 sickly with the healthy and robust. There also, probably,t 
 he met with Homer’s poems, which were preserved by the 
 posterity of Cleophylus. Observing that many moral sen¬ 
 tences, and much political knowledge, were intermixed with 
 his stories, which had an irresistible charm, he collected them 
 into one body, and transcribed them with pleasure, in order 
 to take them home with him. For his glorious poetry was 
 not yet fully known in Greece; only some particular pieces 
 were in a few hands, as they happened to be dispersed. Ly¬ 
 curgus was the first that made them generally known. The 
 Egyptians likewise suppose that he visited them; and as of all 
 their institutions he was most pleased with their distinguishing 
 the military men from the rest of the people, J he took the 
 same method at Sparta, and, by separating from these the me¬ 
 chanics and artificers, he rendered the constitution more noble 
 and more of a piece. This assertion of the Egyptians is con¬ 
 firmed by some of the Greek writers. But we know of no 
 one, except Aristocrates, son of Hipparchus, and a Spartan, 
 who has affirmed that he went to Libya and Spain, and in his 
 Indian excursions conversed with the Gymnosophists. § 
 
 * The Ionians sent a colony from Attica into Asia Minor, about 1050 years 
 before the Christian era, and 150 before Lycurgus. And though they might 
 not be greatly degenerated in so short a time, yet our lawgiver could judge 
 of the effect which the climate and Asiatic plenty had upon them. 
 
 j* He adds probably , ccs tioutv, because some Greek authors have affirmed 
 that Lycurgus saw Homer himself, who was at that time at Chios. But Plu¬ 
 tarch’s opinion is more to be relied on. Homer died before Lycurgus was 
 born. Before the time of Lycurgus, they had nothing in Greece of Homer, 
 but some detached pieces, which were severally named from the different 
 subjects treated of in them, such as. The Valour of Diomede , Hector's Ran- 
 som 9 and the like. 
 
 f The ancient Egyptians kept not only the priests and military men, who 
 consisted chiefly of the nobility, distinct from the rest of the people; but the 
 other employments, viz. those of herdsmen, shepherds, merchants, interpre¬ 
 ters, and seamen, descended in particular tribes from father to son. 
 
 § Indian priests and philosophers who went almost naked, and lived in 
 woods. The Brahmans were one of their sects. They had a great aversion 
 to idleness. Apuleius tells us, every pupil of theirs was obliged to give ac¬ 
 count every day of some good he had done, either by meditation or action, 
 before he was admitted to sit down to dinner. So thoroughly were they 
 
LYCURGUS. 
 
 101 
 
 The Lacedemonians found the want of Lycurgus when ab¬ 
 sent, and sent many embassies to entreat him to return. For 
 they perceived that their kings had barely the title and out¬ 
 ward appendages of royalty, but in nothing else differed from 
 the multitude; whereas Lycurgus had abilities from nature te 
 guide the measures of government, and powers of persuasion 
 that drew the hearts of men to him. The kings, nowever, 
 were consulted about his return, and they hoped that in his 
 presence they should experience less insolence amongst the 
 people. Returning then to a city thus disposed, lie imme 
 diately applied himself to alter the whole frame of the consti¬ 
 tution; sensible that a partial change, and the introducing of 
 some new laws, would be of no sort of advantage; but as in 
 the case of a body diseased and full of bad humours, whose 
 temperament is to be corrected and new formed by medicines, 
 it was necessary to begin a new regimen. With these senti¬ 
 ments he went to Delphi; and when he had offered sacrifice 
 and consulted the god,* he returned with that celebrated ora¬ 
 cle, in which the priestess called him: u Beloved of the gods, 
 and rather a god than a man.” As to his request that he might 
 enact good laws, she told him Apollo had heard his request, 
 and promised that the constitution he should establish, would 
 be the most excellent in the world. Thus encouraged, he ap¬ 
 plied to the nobility, and desired them to put their hands to 
 the work; addressing himself privately at first to his friends, 
 and afterwards, by degrees, trying the disposition of others, 
 and preparing them to concur in the business. When matters 
 were ripe, he ordered thirty of the principal citizens to appear 
 armed in the market place by break of day, to strike terror 
 into such as might desire to oppose him. Hermippus has giv¬ 
 en us the names of twenty of the most eminent of them; but he 
 that had the greatest share in the whole enterprise, and gave 
 Lycurgus the best assistance in the establishing of his laws, 
 was called Arithmiades. Upon the first alarm king Charilaus, 
 apprehending it to be a design against his person, took refuge 
 
 persuaded of the transmigration of the soul, and a happy one for themselves, 
 that they used to commit themselves to the flames, when they had lived to 
 satiety, or were apprehensive of any misfortune. But we are afraid it w?s 
 vanity that induced one of them to burn himself before Alexander the 
 Great, and another to do the same before Augustus Csesar. 
 
 * As Minos had persuaded the Cretans, that his laws were delivered to 
 him from Jupiter, so Lycurgus, his imitator, was willing to make the Spar¬ 
 tans believe that he did every tiling by the direction of Apollo. Other 
 legislatures have found it very convenient to propagate an opinion that their 
 institutions were from the gods. For that self-love in human nature, which 
 would but ill have borne with the superiority of genius, that must have been 
 acknowledged in an unassisted lawgiver, found an ease and satisfaction in 
 admitting his new regulations, when they were said to come from heaven 
 
102 
 
 LYCURGUS. 
 
 m the Chalcioicos .* But he was soon satisfied, and accepted 
 of their oath. Nay, so far from being obstinate, he joined in 
 the undertaking. Indeed, he was so remarkable for the gen¬ 
 tleness of his disposition, that Archelaus, his partner in the 
 throne, is reported to have said to some that were praising the 
 young king ,— u Yes, Charilaus is a good man to be sure, who 
 can not find in his heart to punish the bad.” Among the many 
 new institutions of Lycurgus, the first and most important 
 was that of a senate; which sharing, as PJato says,t in the 
 power of the kings, too imperious and unrestrained before, and 
 naving equal authority with them, was the means of keeping 
 them within the bounds of moderation, and highly contribut¬ 
 ed to the preservation of the state; for before it had been veer¬ 
 ing and unsettled, sometimes inclining to arbitrary power, and 
 sometimes towards a pure democracy; but this establishment 
 of a senate, an intermediate body, like ballast, kept it in a just 
 equilibrium, and put it in a safe posture; the twenty-eight 
 senators adhering to the kings, whenever they saw the people 
 too encroaching, and on the other hand, supporting the peo¬ 
 ple, when the kings attempted to make themselves absolute. 
 This, according to Aristotle, was the number of senators fixed 
 upon, because two of the thirty associates of Lycurgus desert¬ 
 ed the business through fear. But Sphaerus tells us there 
 were only twenty-eight at first entrusted with the design. 
 Something, perhaps, there is in its being a perfect number, 
 formed of seven multiplied by four, and withal the first num- 
 
 * That is, the brazen temple. It was standing in the time of Pausanias, 
 who lived in the reign of Marcus Antoninus. 
 
 I The passage to which Plutarch refers, is in Plato’s third book of laws , 
 where he is examining into the causes of the downfall of states. An Athe¬ 
 nian is introduced thus speaking to a Lacedaemonian :—“ Some god, I be¬ 
 lieve, in his care for your state, and in his foresight of what would happen, 
 has given you two kings of the same family, in order that, reigning jointly, 
 they might govern with the more moderation, and Sparta experience the 
 greater tranquillity. After this, when the regal authority was grown again 
 too absolute and imperious, a divine spirit residing in a human nature (i. e. 
 Lycurgus), reduced it within the bounds of equity and moderation, by the 
 wise provision of a senate, whose authority was to be equal to that of the 
 kings.” Aristotle finds fault with this circumstance in the institution of the 
 senate, that the senators were to continue for life; for as the mind grows old 
 with the body, he thought it unreasonable to put the fortunes of the citizens 
 into the power of men who through age might become incapable of judg¬ 
 ing. He likewise thought it very unreasonable that they were not made ac¬ 
 countable for their actions. But for the latter inconvenience srfficient pro¬ 
 vision seems to have been made afterwards, by the institution of the Ephori , 
 wdio had it chiefly in charge to defend the rights of the people; and there¬ 
 fore Plato adds,—“ A third blessing to Sparta w r as the prince, who finding 
 the power of the senate and the kings too arbitrary and uncontrolled, con 
 trived the authority of the Ephori, as a restraint upon it,” &c. 
 
LYCURGUS. 
 
 103 
 
 ber after six, that is equal to all its parts. But I rather think, 
 just so many senators were created, that, together with the 
 two kings, the whole body might consist of thirty members 
 
 He had this institution so much at heart, that he obtained 
 from Delphi an oracle in its behalf, called rhetra , or the decree . 
 This was couched in very ancient and uncommon terms, which 
 interpreted ran thus; 66 When you have built a temple to the 
 Syllanian Jupiter and the Syllanian Minerva,* divided the 
 people into tribes and classes, and established a senate of thirty 
 persons, including the two kings, you shall occasionally sum¬ 
 mon the people to an assembly between Babyce and Cnacion, 
 and they shall have the determining voice.” Babyce and 
 Cnacion are now called CEnus; but Aristotle thinks, by Cna¬ 
 cion is meant the river, and by Babyce the bridge. Between 
 these they held their assemblies, having neither halls, nor 
 any kind of building for that purpose. These things he 
 thought of no advantage to their councils, but rather a disser¬ 
 vice, as they distracted the attention, and turned it upon trifles, 
 on observing the statues and pictures, the splendid roofs, and 
 every other theatrical ornament. The people thus assembled 
 had no right to propose any subject of debate, and were only 
 authorized to ratify or reject what might be proposed to them 
 by the. senate and the kings. But because, in process of time, 
 the people, by additions or retrenchments, changed the terms, 
 and perverted the sense of the decrees, the kings Polydorus 
 and Theopompus inserted in the rhetra this clause:— u If the 
 people attempt to corrupt any law, the senate and chiefs shall 
 retire;” that is, they shall dissolve the assembly and annul 
 the alterations. And they found means to persuade the Spar¬ 
 tans that this too was ordered by Apollo, as we learn fron 
 these verses of Tyrtaeus:— 
 
 Ye sons of Sparta, who at Phoebus’ shrine 
 Your humble vows prefer, attentive hear 
 The god’s decision. O’er your beauteous lands. 
 
 Two guardian kings, a senate, and the voice 
 Of the concurring people, lasting laws 
 Shall with joint power establish. 
 
 Though the government was thus tempered by Lycurgus, 
 yet soon after it degenerated into an oligarchy, whose power 
 was exercised with such wantonness and violence, that ii 
 wanted indeed a bridle, as Plato expresses it. This curb the v 
 
 * As no account can be given of the meaning of live wold Syllanian > it is 
 supposed it should be either read Sellasian , from Sellasia, a town of Lac*»- 
 nia upon the Eurotas; or else Hellanian , as much as to say, the Grecian Ju¬ 
 piter, &c. 
 
104 
 
 LYCURGUS. 
 
 found in the authority of the Ephori ,* about a hundred and 
 thirty years after Lycurgus. Elatus was the first invested 
 with this dignity in the reign of Theopompus, who, when his 
 wife upbraided him that he would leave the regal power to 
 his children less than he received it, replied,—“Nay, but 
 greater, because more lasting.” And in fact, the prerogative, 
 so stripped of all extravagant pretensions, no longer occasion 
 ed either envy or danger to its possessors. By these means 
 they escaped the miseries which befel the Messenian and Ar- 
 give kings; who would not in the least relax the severity of 
 their power in favour of the people. Indeed, from nothing 
 more does the wisdom and foresight of Lycurgus appear, than 
 from the disorderly governments, and the bad understanding 
 that subsisted between the kings and people of Messene and 
 Argos, neighbouring states, and related in blood to Sparta; for 
 as at first they were in all respects equal to her, and possessed 
 of a better country, and yet preserved no lasting happiness, 
 but, through the insolence of the kings, and disobedience of 
 the people, were harassed with perpetual troubles, they made 
 t very evident that it was really a felicity more than human, 
 a blessing from heaven to the Spartans, to have a legislator 
 who knew so well how to frame and temper their govern¬ 
 ment, t But this was an event of a later date. 
 
 * Herodotus (1. i. c. 65,) and Xenophon f de Repub. Lac.J tells us, the 
 Ephori were appointed by Lycurgus himself. But the account which Plu 
 tarch gives us from Aristotle ( Polit . 1. v.) and others, of their being institu¬ 
 ted long after, seems more agreeable to reason; for it is not likely that Lycur¬ 
 gus, who in all things endeavoured to support the aristocracy, and left the 
 people only the right of assenting or dissenting to what was proposed to 
 them, would appoint a kind of tribunes of the people, to be masters as it 
 were both of the kings and the senate. Some, indeed, suppose the Ephori 
 to have been at first the king’s friends, to whom they delegated their au¬ 
 thority when they were obliged to be in the field. But it is very clear, that 
 they were elected by the people out of their own body, and sometimes out 
 of the very dregs of it, for the boldest citizen, whoever he was, was most 
 likely to be chosen to this office, which was intended as a check on the sen¬ 
 ate and the kings. They were five in number, like the Quinqueviri in the 
 republic of Carthage. They were annually elected; and in order to effect 
 any thing, the unanimous voice of the college was requisite. Their authori¬ 
 ty, though well designed at first, came at length to be in a manner boundless. 
 They presided in popular assemblies, collected their suffrages, declared war, 
 made peace, treated with foreign princes, determined the number of forces 
 to be raised, appointed the funds to maintain them, and distributed rewards 
 and punishments, in the name of the state. They likewise held a ccurt of 
 justice, inquired into the conduct of all magistrates, inspected into the be¬ 
 haviour and education of youths, had a particular jurisdiction over the He - 
 lotesy and, in short, by degrees, drew the whole administration into their hands. 
 They even went so far as to put king Agis to death under a form of justice, 
 «nd were themselves at last killed by Cleomenes. 
 
 ■}• Whatever Plutarch might mean by t ciuta piv av v;n*ov, it is certain that 
 
JLYCURGUS. 
 
 105 
 
 A second and bolder political enterprise of Lycurgus was a 
 new division of the lands; for he found a prodigious inequality, 
 the city overcharged with many indigent persons who had no 
 land, and the wealth centred in the hands of a few. Deter 
 mined, therefore, to root out the evils of insolence, envy, 
 avarice, and luxury, and those distempers of a state still more 
 inveterate and fatal, I mean poverty and riches, he persuaded 
 them to cancel all former divisions of land, and to make new 
 ones, in such a manner that they might be perfectly equal in 
 their possessions and way of living. Hence, if they were am¬ 
 bitious of distinction, they might seek it in virtue, as no other 
 difference was left between them but that which arises from 
 the dishonour of base actions and the praise of good ones. 
 His proposal was put in practice. He made nine thousand 
 lots for the territory of Sparta, w T hich he distributed among so 
 many citizens, and thirty thousand for the inhabitants of the 
 rest of Laconia.' But some say he made only six thousand 
 shares for the city, and that Polydorus added three thousand 
 afterwards; others, that Polydorus doubled the number ap- 
 
 E ointed by Lycurgus, which were only four thousand five 
 undred. Each lot was capable of producing (one year with 
 another) seventy bushels of grain for each man,* and twelve 
 for each woman, besides a quantity of wine and oil in propor¬ 
 tion. Such a provision they thought sufficient for health and 
 a good habit of body, and they wanted nothing more. A 
 story goes of our legislator, that some time after, returning 
 from a journey through the fields just reaped, and seeing the 
 shocks standing parallel and equal, he smiled, and said to 
 some that were oy ,— u How like is Laconia to an estate new¬ 
 ly divided among many brothers!” 
 
 After this he attempted to divide also the moveables, in or 
 der to take away all appearance of inequality; but he soon per 
 ceived that they could not bear to have their goods directly 
 taken from them, and therefore took another method, counter 
 working their avarice by a stratagem.! First he stopped the 
 
 kingly power was abolished in the states of Messene and Argos long before 
 the tirrlc of Lycurgus the lawgiver, and a democracy had taken place in those 
 cities. Indeed, those states experienced great internal troubles, not only 
 while under the government of kings, but when in the form of common¬ 
 wealths, and never, after the time of Lycurg-is, made any figure equal to 
 Lacedaemon. 
 
 * By a man is meant a master of a family, whose household was to subsist 
 upon these seventy bushels. 
 
 f For a long time after Lycurgus, the Spartans gloriously opposed the 
 growth of avarice, insomuch, that a young man, who bought an estate at a 
 great advantage, was called to account for it, and a fine set upon him; for, 
 besides the injustice he was guilty of, in b' wing a thing for less than it wa* 
 
 Vol. t- Q 11 
 
106 
 
 LYCURGTJS. 
 
 currency of the gold and silver coin, and ordered that they 
 should make use of iron money only; then to a great quantity 
 and weight of this he assigned but a very small value; so that 
 to lay up ten minse,* a whole room was required, and to re¬ 
 move it, nothing less than a yoke of oxen. When this be¬ 
 came current, many kinds of injustice ceased in Lacedaemon. 
 Who would steal or take a bribe, who would defraud or rob, 
 when he could not conceal the booty, when he could neither 
 be dignified by the possession of it, nor, if cut in pieces, be serv¬ 
 ed by its use? For we are told, that when hot they quenched 
 it in vinegar, to make it brittle and unmalleable, and conse¬ 
 quently unfit for any other service. In the next place, he 
 excluded unprofitable and superfluous arts. Indeed, if he had 
 not done this, most of them would have fallen of themselves 
 when the new money took place, as the manufactures could 
 not be disposed of. Their iron coin would not pass in the 
 rest of Greece, but was ridiculed and despised; so that the 
 Spartans had no means of purchasing any foreign or curious 
 wares; nor did any merchant ship unlade in their harbours. 
 There tvere not even to be found in all their country either so¬ 
 phists, wandering fortune-tellers, keepers of infamous houses, 
 or dealers in gold and silver trinkets, because there was 
 no money. Thus luxury, losing by degrees the means that 
 cherished and supported it, died away of itself. Even they 
 who had great possessions had no advantage from them, 
 since they could not be displayed in public, but must lie use¬ 
 less in unregarded repositories. Hence it was that excellent 
 workmanship was shown in their useful and necessary furni¬ 
 ture, as beds, chairs and tables; and the Lacedaemonian cup, 
 called cothon , as Critias informs us, was highly valued, par¬ 
 ticularly in campaigns; for the water which must then of ne¬ 
 cessity be drunk, though it would often otherwise offend the 
 sight, had its muddiness concealed by the colour of the cup, 
 and the thick part stopping at the shelving brim, it came clear¬ 
 er to the lips. Of these improvements the lawgiver was the 
 cause; for the workman having no more employment in mat* 
 
 worth, they judged that he was too desirous of gain, since his mind was cm 
 ployed in getting at an age when others think of nothing but spending. 
 
 But when the Spartans, no longer satisfied with their own territories (a 3 
 Lycurgus had enjoined them to be,) came to be engaged in foreign wars, 
 their money not being passable in other countries, they found themselves 
 obliged to apply to the Persians, whose gold and silver dazzled their eyes; 
 and their covetousness grew at length so infamous, that it occasioned the 
 proverb mentioned by Plato, “ One may see a great deal of money carried 
 into Lacedaemon, but one never sees any of it brought out again.” 
 
 * Thirty-two pounds, five shillings, and ten pence sterling. 
 
LYCURGUS. * 107 
 
 ters of mere curiosity, showed the excellence of their art in 
 necessary things. 
 
 Desirous to complete the conquest of luxury, and extermi¬ 
 nate the love of riches, he introduced a third institution, which 
 was wisely enough and ingeniously contrived. This was the 
 use of public tables,* where all were to eat in common of the 
 same meat, and such kinds of it as were appointed by law. 
 At the same time, they were forbidden to eat at home, upon 
 expensive couches and tables, to call in the assistance of butch¬ 
 ers and cooks, or to fatten like voracious animals in private; 
 for so not only their manners would be corrupted, but their 
 bodies disordered; abandoned to all manner of sensuality and 
 dissoluteness, they would require long sleep, warm baths, 
 and the same indulgence as in perpetual sickness. To effect 
 this was certainly very great; but it was greater still to secure 
 riches from rapine and from envy, as Theophrastus expresses 
 it; or rather, by their eating in common, and by the frugality 
 of their table, to take from riches their very being; for what 
 use or enjoyment of them, what peculiar display of magnifi¬ 
 cence could there be, where the poor man went to the same 
 refreshment with the rich? Hence the observation, that it 
 was only at Sparta, where Plutus (according to the proverb) 
 was kept blind, and, like an image, destitute of life or motion. 
 It must further be observed, that they had not the privilege 
 to eat at home, and so to come without appetite to the public 
 repast. They made a point of it to observe any one that did 
 not eat and drink with them, and to reproach him as an in¬ 
 temperate and effeminate person, that was sick of the com¬ 
 mon diet. 
 
 The rich, therefore (we are told), were more offended with 
 this regulation than with any other, and, rising in a body, they 
 loudly expressed their indignation; nay, they proceeded so 
 
 * Xenophon seems to have penetrated farther into the reason of this insti¬ 
 tution than any other author, as indeed he had better opportunity to do. 
 The rest only say, that this was intended to repress luxury; but he very 
 wisely remarks, that it was also intended to serve for a kind of school or 
 ocademy, where the young 1 were instructed by the old, the latter relating 
 the gTeat things that had been performed within their memory, and thereby 
 exciting the growing generation to distinguish themselves by performances 
 equally great. 
 
 But as it was found impracticable for all the citizens to eat in common, 
 when the number of them came to exceed the number of the lots of land, 
 Dacier thinks it might have been better if the lawgiver had ordained that 
 those public tables should be maintained at the expense of the public, as it 
 was done in Crete. But it must be considered, that while the discipline of 
 Lycurgus was kept up in its purity, they provided against any inconvenience 
 from the increase of citizens, by sending out colonies; and Lacedaemon was 
 not burdened with poor till the declension of that state. 
 
105 
 
 LYCURGUS. 
 
 far as to assault Lycurgus with stones, so that he was forced 
 to fly from the assembly, and take refuge in a temple. Un¬ 
 happily, however, before he reached it, a young man named 
 Alcander, hasty in his resentments, though not otherwise ill- 
 tempered, came up with him, and, upon his turning round, 
 struck out one of his eyes with a stick. Lycurgus then stop¬ 
 ped short, and, without giving way to passion, showed th°, 
 people hii eye beat out, and his face streaming with blood. 
 They were so struck with shame and horror at the sight, that 
 they surrendered Alcander to him, and conducted him home 
 with the utmost expressions of regret. Lycurgus thanked 
 them for the care of his person, and dismissed them all except 
 Alcander. He took him into his house, but showed him no 
 ill treatment, either by w T ord or action, only ordering him to 
 wait upon him instead of his usual servants and attendants. 
 The youth, who was of an ingenuous disposition, without mur¬ 
 muring, did as he was commanded. Living in this manner 
 with Lycurgus, and having an opportunity to observe the 
 mildness and goodness of his heart, his strict temperance and 
 indefatigable industry, he told his friends that Lycurgus was 
 not that proud and severe man he might have been taken for, 
 but above all others, gentle and engaging in his behaviour. 
 This, then, was his chastisement, and this punishment he suf¬ 
 fered, of a wild and headstrong young man, to become a very 
 modest and prudent citizen. In memory of his misfortune 
 Lycurgus built a temple to Minerva Optiletis , so called by him 
 from a term which the Dorians use for the eye. Yet Diosco- 
 rides, who wrote a treatise concerning the Lacedaemonian 
 government, and others, relate, that his eye was hurt, but not 
 put out, and that he built the temple in gratitude to the god¬ 
 dess for his cure. However, the Spartans never carried staves 
 to their assemblies afterwards. 
 
 The public repasts were called by the Cretans Andria; but 
 the Lacedaemonians styled them Phiditia , either from their ten¬ 
 dency to friendship and mutual benevolence, phiditia being used 
 instead of pkilitia; or else from their teaching frugality and 
 parsimony , which the word pheido signifies. But it is not at all 
 impossible that the first letter might by some means or other 
 be added, and so phiditia take place of editia , which barely 
 signifies eating . There were fifteen persons to a table, or a few 
 more or less. Each of them was obliged to bring in monthly 
 a bushel of meal, eight gallons of wine, five pounds of cheese, 
 two pounds and a half of figs, and a little money to buy flesh 
 and fish. If any of them happened to offer a sacrifice of first- 
 fruits, or to kill venison, he sent a part of it to the public table; 
 for after a sacrifice or hunting, he was at liberty to sup at home, 
 but the rest werto appear at the usual place. For a long time 
 
LYCURGUS 
 
 10S 
 
 this eating in common was observed with great exactness; so 
 that when king Agis returned from a successful expedition 
 against the Athenians, and, from a desire to sup with his wife, 
 requested to have his portion at home,* the Polemarchs refused 
 to send it;t nay, when through resentment, he neglected the 
 day following to offer the sacrifice usual on occasion of victory, 
 they set a fine upon him. Children also were introduced at 
 thes 3 public tables, as so many schools of sobriety. There they 
 heard discourses concerning government, and were instructed 
 in the most liberal breeding. There they were allowed to jest 
 without scurrility, and were not to take it ill when the raillery 
 was returned. For it was reckoned worthy of a Lacedaemonian 
 to bear a jest; but if any one’s patience failed, he had only to 
 desire them to be quiet, and they left off immediately. When 
 they first entered, the oldest man present pointed to the door, 
 and said,—“ Not a word spoken in this company goes out 
 there.” The admitting of any man to a particular table was 
 under the following regulation:—Each member of that small 
 society took a little ball of soft bread in his hand; this he was 
 to drop, without saying a word, into a vessel called caddos , 
 which the waiter carried upon his head. In case he approved 
 of the candidate, he did it without altering the figure, if not, 
 he first pressed it flat in his hand; for a flatted ball was consid 
 ered as a negative; and if but one such was found, the person 
 was not admitted, as they thought it proper that the whole 
 company should be satisfied with each other. He who was thus 
 rejected, was said to have no luck in the caddos . The dish that 
 was in the highest esteem amongst them was the black broth. 
 The old men were so fond of it, that they ranged themselves 
 on one side and ate it, leaving the meat to the young people. 
 It is related of a king of Pontus, J that he purchased a Lacedae¬ 
 monian cook, for the sake of this broth. But when he came 
 to taste it, he strongly expressed his dislike; and the cook made 
 answer, “ Sir, to make this broth relish, it is necessary first 
 to bathe in the Eurotas.” After they had drunk moderately, 
 they went home without lights. Indeed, they were forbidden 
 to walk with a light, either on this or any other occasion, that 
 they might accustom themselves to march in the darkest night 
 
 * The kings of Sparta had always double commons allowed them; not that 
 they were permitted to indulge their appetites more than others, but that 
 they might have ail opportunity of sharing their portion with some brave 
 man whom they chose to distinguish with that honour. 
 
 f The Polemarchs were those who had commanded the army under the 
 kings. The principal men in the state always divided the commons. 
 
 t T his story is elsewhere told by Plutarch of Dionysius, the tyrant of Sw 
 city; and Cicero confirms it, that he was the person. 
 
 11 * 
 
110 
 
 LVCURGUS. 
 
 boldly and resolutely Such was the order of their public 
 repasts. 
 
 Lycurgus left none of his laws in writing ; it was ordered in 
 one of the Rhetrx that none should be written: for what he 
 thought most conducive to the virtue and happiness of a city, 
 was principles interwoven with the manners and breeding o 1 
 the people. These would remain immoveable, as founded in 
 inclination, and be the strongest and most lasting tie; and the 
 habits which education produced in the youth, would answer 
 in each the purpose of a lawgiver. As for smaller matters, 
 contracts about property, and whatever occasionally varied, it 
 was better not to reduce these to a written form and unalter¬ 
 able method, but to suffer them to change with the times, and 
 to admit of additions or retrenchments at the pleasure of per¬ 
 sons so well educated. For he resolved the whole business of 
 legislation into the bringing up of youth. And this, as we 
 have observed, was the reason why one of his ordinances for¬ 
 bade them to have any written laws. 
 
 Another ordinance, levelled against magnificence and ex¬ 
 pense, directed that the ceilings of houses should be wrought 
 with no tool but the axe, and the doors with nothing but the 
 saw. For, as Epaminondas is reported to have said afterwards, 
 of his table,— u Treason lurks not under such a dinner;” so 
 Lycurgus perceived before him, that such a house admits not 
 of luxury and needless splendour. Indeed, no man could bo 
 so absurd, as to bring into a dwelling so homely and simple, 
 bedsteads with silver feet, purple coverlets, golden cups, and 
 a train of expense that follows these; but all would necessarily 
 have the bed suitable to the room, the coverlet to the bed, and 
 the rest of their utensils and furniture to that. From this plain 
 sort of dwellings, proceeded the question of Leotychidas the 
 elder to his host, when he supped at Corinth, and saw the ceil¬ 
 ing of the room very splendid and curiously wrought, “ Whe¬ 
 ther trees grew square in his country?”* 
 
 A third ordinance of Lycurgus was, that they should not 
 often make war against the same enemy, lest, by being fre¬ 
 quently put upon defending themselves, they too should be¬ 
 come able warriors in their turn. And this they most blam¬ 
 ed king Agesilaus for afterwards, that by frequent and con¬ 
 tinued incursions into Boeotiat, he taught the Thebans to make 
 head against the Lacedaemonians. This made Antalcidas say, 
 
 * This is rendered by the former English translator, as if Leotychidas’s 
 question proceeded from ignorance, whereas it was really an arch sneer upon 
 the sumptuous and expensive buildings of Corinth. 
 
 f This appeared plainly at the battle of Leuctra, where the Lacedaemoni¬ 
 ans were overthrown by Epaminondas, and lost their king Cleombrotus, to¬ 
 gether with the flower of their army. 
 
LVCURGUS. 
 
 Ill 
 
 wnen he saw him wounded,— u The Thebans pay you well 
 for making them good soldiers, who neither were willing nor 
 able 10 fight you before.” These ordinances he called Rhe- 
 trae, as if they had been oracles and decrees of the Deity him- 
 self. 
 
 As for the education of youth, which he looked upon as the 
 greatest and most glorious work of a lawgiver, he began with 
 it at the very source, taking into consideration their concep¬ 
 tion and birth, by regulating the marriages. For he did not 
 (as Aristotle says) desist from his attempt to bring the women 
 under sober rules. They had, indeed, assumed great liberty 
 and power on account of the frequent expeditions of their hus¬ 
 bands, during which they were left sole mistresses at home, 
 and so gained an undue deference and improper titles; but, 
 notwithstanding this, he took all possible care of them. He 
 ordered the virgins to exercise themselves in running, wrest¬ 
 ling, and throwing quoits and darts; that their bodies being 
 strong and vigorous, the children afterwards produced from 
 them might be the same; and that, thus fortified by exercise, 
 they might the better support the pangs of child-birth, and be 
 delivered with safety. In order to take away the excessive 
 tenderness and delicacy of the sex, the consequence of a re- 
 cluse life, he accustomed the virgins occasionally to be seen 
 naked as well as the young men, and to dance and sing in 
 their presence on certain festivals. There they sometimes 
 indulged in a little raillery upon those that had misbehaved 
 themselves, and sometimes they sung encomiums on such as 
 deserved them, thus exciting in the young men an useful 
 emulation and love of glory. For he who was praised for his 
 bravery, and celebrated among the virgins, went away per¬ 
 fectly happy; while their satirical glances, thrown out in sport, 
 were no less cutting than serious admonitions; especially as 
 the kings and senate went with the other citizens to see all 
 that passed. As for the virgins appearing naked, there was 
 nothing disgraceful in it, because every thing was conducted 
 with modesty, and without one indecent word or action. Nay, 
 it caused a simplicity of manners and an emulation for the 
 best habit of body; their ideas too were naturally enlarged, 
 while they were not excluded from their share of bravery and 
 honour. Hence they were furnished with sentiments and lan- 
 
 S e, such as Gorgo, the wife of Leonidas, is said to have 
 j use of. When a woman of another country said to her,— 
 “ You of Lacedaemon are the only women in the world that 
 rule the men;” she answered,— u We are the only women 
 that bring forth men.” 
 
 These public dances and other exercises of the young mai¬ 
 dens naked, in sight of the young men, were, moreover infers- 
 
11 2 
 
 LYCURGUS. 
 
 tives to marriage; and, to use Plato’s expression, drew them 
 almost as necessarily by the attractions of x ove, as a geometri¬ 
 cal conclusion follows from the premises. To encourage it 
 still more, some marks of infamy were -et upon those who 
 continued bachelors;* for they were not permitted to see these 
 exercises of the naked virgins; and the magistrates command¬ 
 ed them to march naked round the market-place in the win¬ 
 ter, and to sing a song composed against themselves, which 
 expressed how justly they were punished for their disobedi¬ 
 ence to the laws. They were also deprived of that honour 
 and respect which the younger people paid to the old; so that 
 nobody found fault with what was said to Dercyllidas, though 
 an eminent commander. It seems, when he came one day 
 into company, a young man, instead of rising up and giving 
 him place told him.— u You have no child to give place to 
 me, when I am old.” 
 
 In their marriages, the bridegroom carried off the bride by 
 violence; and she was never chosen in a tender age, but when 
 she had arrived at full maturity. Then the woman that had 
 the direction of the wedding, cut the bride’s hair close to the 
 skin, dressed her in man’s clothes, laid her upon a mattress, 
 and left her in the dark. The bridegroom, neither oppress¬ 
 ed with wine, nor enervated with luxury, but perfectly sober, 
 as having always supped at the common table, went in pri¬ 
 vately, untied her girdle, and carried her to another bed. 
 Having stayed there a short time, he modestly retired to his 
 usual apartment, to sleep with the other young men; and lie 
 observed the same conduct afterwards, spending the day with 
 his companions, and reposing himself with them in the night, 
 nor even visiting his bride, but with great caution and appre¬ 
 hensions of being discovered by the rest of the family; the 
 bride, at the same time, exerted all her art to contrive conveni¬ 
 ent opportunities for their private meetings. And this they 
 did not for a short time only, but some of them even had chil¬ 
 dren before they had an interview with their wives in the 
 day-time. This kind of commerce not only exercised their 
 temperance and chastity, but kept their bodies fruitful, and 
 the first ardour of their love fresh and unabated; for as they 
 were not satiated like those that are always with their wives, 
 there still was place for unextinguished desire. When he had 
 thus established a proper regard to modesty and decorum, 
 
 * The lime of marriage was fixed; and if a man did not marry when lie 
 was of full age, he was liable to a prosecution; as were such also who mar¬ 
 ried above or below themselves. Such as had three children had great im¬ 
 munities, and those that had four were free from all taxes. Virgins were 
 married without portions, because neither want should hinder a man, nor 
 riches induce him to marry contrary to his inclinations. 
 
LYCURGUS. 
 
 113 
 
 rvitb respect to marriage, he was equally studious to drive 
 from that state the vain and womanish passion of jealousy, by 
 making it quite as reputable to have children in common with 
 
 I iersons of merit, as to avoid all offensive freedom in their own 
 lehaviour to their wives. He laughed at those who revenge, 
 with wars and bloodshed, the communication of a married 
 woman’s favours; and allowed, that if a man in years should 
 have a young wife, he might introduce to her some handsome 
 and honest young man, whom he most approved of, and whei$ 
 she had a child of this generous race, bring it up as his own] 
 On the other hand, he allowed, that if a man of character 
 should entertain a passion for a married woman, on account 
 of her modesty, and the beauty of her children, he might treat 
 with her husband for admission to her company,'* that so 
 planting in a beauty-bearing soil, he might produce excellent 
 children,! the congenial offspring of excellent parents. For, 
 in the first place, Lycurgus considered children, not so much 
 the property of their parents, as of the state; and therefore, 
 he would not have them begot by ordinary persons, but by the 
 best men in it. In the next place, he observed the vanity and 
 absurdity of other nations, where people study to have their 
 horses and dogs of the finest breed they can procure, either 
 by interest or money, and keep their wives shut up, that they 
 may have children by none but themselves, though they may 
 happen to be doating, decrepit, or infirm. As if children, 
 when sprung from a bad stock, and, consequently, good foi 
 nothing, were no detriment to those whom they belong to, 
 and who have the trouble of bringing them up, nor any ad 
 vantage, when well descended, and of a generous disposition. 
 These regulations tending to secure a healthy offspring, and, 
 consequently beneficial to the state, were so far from en¬ 
 couraging that licentiousness of the women which prevailed 
 afterwards, that adultery was not known amongst them. A 
 saying, upon this subject, of Geradas, an ancient Spartan, is 
 Mius related:—A stranger had asked him, “What punishment 
 their law appointed for adulterers?” He answered, “My 
 friend, there are no adulterers in our country.” The other 
 replied,—-“ But what if there should be one?” “Why, then,” 
 says Geradas, “ he must forfeit a bull so large, that lie 
 might drink of the Eurotas from the top of mount Tagetus.” 
 When the stranger expressed his surprise at this, and said, 
 “ How can such a bull be found?” Geradas answered with a 
 
 * In this case the kings were excepted; for they were not at liberty to 
 lend their wives. 
 
 + The English translation, published in 1758, has here, to possess all the 
 valuable qualifications of their parents , which is not the meaning of ay 
 yxctiym ttai avyytwe vroui*;. 
 
 Vol. i ——R 
 
114 
 
 LVCURGUS. 
 
 Mmic,—“How can an adulterer be found in Sparta?” This is 
 the account we have of their marriages. 
 
 It was not left to the father to rear what children he pleas 
 ed, but he was obliged to carry the child to a place called Lesche 5 
 lobe examined by the most ancient men of the tribe, who were 
 assembled there. If it was strong, and well proportioned, 
 they gave orders for its education, and assigned it one of the 
 nine thousand shares of land; but if it was weakly and deform¬ 
 ed, they ordered it to be thrown into the place called Jipothetx , 
 whicn is a deep cavern near the mountain Taygetus; conclud¬ 
 ing that its life could be no advantage either to itself or to the 
 public, since nature had not given it at first any strength or 
 goodness of constitution.* For the same reason, the women 
 did not wash their new-born infants with water, but with 
 wine, thus making some trial of their habit of body; imagin¬ 
 ing that sickly and epileptic childen sink and die under the 
 experiment, while the healthy become more vigorous and 
 hardy. Great care and art was also exerted by the nurses; 
 for as they never swathed the infants, their limbs had a freer 
 turn, and their countenances a more liberal air; besides, they 
 used them to any sort of meat, to have no terrors in the dark, 
 nor to be afraid of being alone, and to leave all ill-humour and 
 unmanly crying. Hence people of other countries purchased 
 Lacedaemonian nurses for their children; and Alcibiades the 
 Athenian, is said to have been nursed by Amycla, a Spartan. 
 But if he was fortunate in a nurse, he was not so in a precep 
 tor: for Zopyrus, appointed to that office by Pericles, was, as 
 Plato tells us, no better qualified than a common slave. The 
 Spartan children were not in that manner under tutors, pur¬ 
 chased or hired with money, nor were the parents at liberty 
 to educate them as the'’ pleased; but as soon as they were se¬ 
 ven years old, Lycuigus ordered them to be enrolled in com¬ 
 panies, where they were all kept under the same order and dis¬ 
 cipline, and had their exercises and recreations in common. He 
 who showed the most conduct and courage amongst them, wa? 
 made captain of the company. The rest kept their eyes upon 
 him, obeyed his orders, and bore, with patience, the punish¬ 
 ments he inflicted; so that their whole education wa? an exer¬ 
 cise of obedience. The old men were present at their diver¬ 
 sions, and often suggested some occasion of dispute or quarrel, 
 
 * The general expediency of this law may well be disputed, though it 
 suited the mertial constitution of Sparta; since many persons of weak con¬ 
 stitutions, make up in ingenuity what they want in strength, and so become 
 more valuable members of the community than the most robust. It seems, 
 however, to have had one good effect, viz. making women veiy careful dur* 
 ing their pregnancy, of either eating, drinking, or exercising to excess. It 
 made them also excellent nurses, as is observed just below. 
 
LYCUKGUS. 115 
 
 that they might observe with exactness, the spirit of each, 
 and their firmness in battle. 
 
 As for learning,* they had just what was absolutely necessa¬ 
 ry. All the rest of their education was calculated to make 
 them subject to command, to endure labour, to fight and con¬ 
 quer. They added, therefore, to their discipline, as they ad¬ 
 vanced in age, cutting their hair very close, making them go 
 barefoot, and play, for the most part, quite naked. At twelve 
 years of age, their under-garment was taken away, and but 
 one upper one a-year allowed them. Hence they were neces¬ 
 sarily dirty in their persons, and not indulged the great favour 
 of baths and oil, except on some particular days of the year. 
 They slept in companies, in beds made of the tops of reeds, 
 which they gathered with their own hands, without knives, 
 and brought from the banks of the Eurotas. In winter they 
 were permitted to add a little thistle down, as that seemed to 
 have some warmth in it. 
 
 At this age, the most distinguished amongst them became 
 favourite companions of the elder ;t and the old men attended 
 more constantly their places of exercise, observing their trials 
 of strength and wit, not slightly and in a cursory manner, but 
 as their fathers, guardians, and governors; so that there was 
 neither time nor place where persons were wanting to instruct 
 and chastise them. One of the best and ablest men in the city 
 
 * The plainness of their manners, and their being’ so very much addicted 
 to war, made the Lacedaemonians less fond of the sciences than the rest of 
 the Greeks. If they wrote to be read, and spoke to be understood, it was all 
 they sought. For this the Athenians, who were excessively vain of their learn¬ 
 ing, held them in great contempt, insomuch, that Thucydides himself, in 
 drawing the character of Brasidas, says, he spoke well enough for a Lacedae¬ 
 monian. On this occasion, it is proper to mention the answer of a Spartan 
 to a learned Athenian, who upbraided him with the ignorance of his country 
 —All you say may he true , and yet it amounts to no more , than that we only 
 amongst the Greeks have learned no evil customs from you . The Spartans, 
 however, had a force and poignancy of expression, which cut down all the 
 llowers of studied elegance. This was the consequence of their concise way 
 of speaking, and their encouraging, on all occasions, decent repartee. Ails 
 were in no greater credit with them than sciences. Theatrical diversions 
 found no countenance; temperance and exercise made the physician un¬ 
 necessary; their justice left no room for the practice of the lawyer; and 
 all the trades that minister to luxury, were unknown. As for agriculture, 
 and such mechanic business as was absolutely necessary, it was left to the 
 slaves. 
 
 j- Though the youth of the male sex were much cherished and beloved, as 
 those that were to build up the future glory of the state; yet, in Sparta it 
 was a virtuous and modest affection, untinged with that sensuality which 
 was so scandalous at Athens and other places. Xenophon says, these lovers 
 lived with those they were attached to, as a father does with his children, or 
 
 brothel with his brethren. The good effects of this part of Lycurgus’s in* 
 stitutians were seen in the union that reigned among tne citizens. 
 
116 
 
 LYCURGUS. 
 
 was, morecver, appointed inspector of the youth; ai.kl he gave 
 the command of each company to the discreetest and most 
 spirited of those called Irens. An Iren was one that had been 
 two years out of the class of boys; a Melliren one of the oldest 
 lads. This Iren , then a youth twenty years old, gives orders 
 to those under his command, in their little battles, and has 
 them to serve him at his house. He sends the oldest of them 
 to fetch wood, and the younger to gather pot-herbs; these they 
 steal where they can find them,* either slyly getting into gar¬ 
 dens, or else craftily and warily creeping to the common tables; 
 but if any one be caught, he is severely flogged for negligence 
 or want of dexterity. They steal too whatever victuals they 
 possibly can, ingeniously contriving to do it when persons are 
 asleep, or keep but indifferent watch. If they are discovered, 
 they are punished, not only with whipping, but with hunger. 
 Indeed, their supper is but slender at all times, that, to fence 
 against want, they may be forced to exercise their courage 
 and address. This is the first intention of their spare diet; a 
 subordinate one is, to make them grow tall; for when the ani¬ 
 mal spirits are not too much oppressed by a great quantity of 
 food, which stretches itself out in breadth and thickness, they 
 mount upwards by their natural lightness, and the body easily 
 and freely shoots up in height. This also contributes to make 
 them handsome; for thin and slender habits yield more freely 
 to nature, which then gives a fine proportion to the limbs; 
 whilst the heavy and gross resist her by their weight. So 
 women that take physic during their pregnancy, have slighter 
 children indeed, but. of a finer and more delicate turn, because 
 the suppleness of the matter more readily obeys the plastic 
 power. However, these are speculations which we shall leave 
 to others. 
 
 The boys steal with so much caution, that one of them, nav 
 ing conveyed a young fox under his garment, suffered the 
 cieature to tear out his bowels with his teeth and claws, choos¬ 
 ing rather to die than to be detected. Nor does this appear 
 incredible, if w r e consider what their young men can endure to 
 this day; for we have seen many of them expire under the 
 lash at the altar of Diana OrlhiaA 
 
 * Not that the Spartans authorized thefts and robberies; for as all was in 
 common in their republic, those vices could have no place there. But the 
 design was to accustom children who were destined for war, to surprise the 
 vigilance of those who watched over them, and to expose themselves cour¬ 
 ageously to the severest punishments, in case they failed of that dexterity 
 which was exacted of them. A dexterity that would have been attended 
 with fatal effects to the morals of any youth but the Spartan, educated as 
 that was to contemn riches and superfluities, and guarded in all other re¬ 
 spects by the severest virtue. 
 
 t This is supposed to be the Diana Taurica % whose statue Orestes is said 
 
LYCURGUS. 
 
 11V 
 
 The Iren , reposing himself after supper, used to order one 
 of the boys to sing a song; to another he put some question 
 which required a judicious answer; for example, “ Who was 
 the best man in the city?” or 66 What he thought of such an 
 action?” This accustomed them from their childhood to judge 
 of the virtues, to enter into the affairs of their countrymen. 
 For if one of them was asked, Who is a good citizen, or who 
 an infamous one? and hesitated in his answer, he was consi 
 dered as a boy of slow parts, and of a soul that would not as¬ 
 pire to honour. The answer was likewise to have a reason 
 assigned for it, and proof conceived in few words. He 
 whose account of the matter was wrong, by way of punish¬ 
 ment, had his thumb bit by the Iren . The old men and ma¬ 
 gistrates often attended these little trials, to see whether the 
 Iren exercised his authority in a rational and proper manner. 
 He was permitted, indeed, to inflict the penalties; but when 
 the boys were gone, he was to be chastised himself, if he had 
 punished them either with too much severity or remissness. 
 
 The adopters of favourites also shared both in the honoui 
 and disgrace of their boys; and one of them is said to have 
 been mulcted by the magistrates, because the boy whom he 
 had taken into his affections, let some ungenerous word or cry 
 escape him as he was fighting. This love was so honourable, 
 and in so much esteem, that the virgins too had their lovers 
 amongst the most virtuous matrons. A competition of affec¬ 
 tion caused no misunderstanding, but rather a mutual friend¬ 
 ship between those that had fixed their regards upon the same 
 youth, and an united endeavour to make him as accomplished 
 as possible. 
 
 The boys were also taught to use sharp repartee, seasoned 
 with humour; and whatever 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 
 comprised in a few plain words, pregnant with a great deal of 
 sense; and he contrived, that by long silence, they might learn 
 to be sententious and acute in their replies. As debauchery 
 often causes weakness and sterility,in the body, so the intern- 
 
 to have brought to Lacedaemon, and to whom human victims were offered. 
 It is pretended that Lycurgus abolished these sacrifices, and substituted in 
 their room the flagellation of young men, with whose blood the altar was, 
 at least, to be sprinkled. But, in truth, a desire of overcoming all the weak¬ 
 nesses of human nature, and, thereby, rendering his Spartans not only su¬ 
 perior to their neighbours, but to their species, runs through many of the 
 institutions of Lycurgus; which principle, if well attended to, thoroughly 
 explains them, and, without attending t ) which, it is impossible to give any 
 ccount at all of some of them. 
 
 12 
 
LYCURGUS. 
 
 I1H 
 
 perauce of th e tongue makes conversation empty and insipid. 
 King Agis, therefore, when a certain Athenian laughed at 
 the Lacedaemonian short swords, and said,—“ The jugglers 
 would swallow them with ease upon the stage/’ answered in 
 his laconic way, “And yet we can reach our enemies’ hearts 
 with them.” Indeed, to me, there seems to be something in 
 this concise manner of speaking, which immediately reache* 
 the object aimed at, and forcibly strikes the mind of the hear 
 er. Lycurgus himself was short and sententious in his dis¬ 
 course, if we may judge by some of his answers which are 
 recorded; that, for instance, concerning the constitution: 
 When one advised him to establish a popular government in 
 Lacedaemon,—“ 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 may never be in want,” 
 says he, “of something to offer him.” Once more, when 
 they inquired of him, what sort of martial exercises he allow¬ 
 ed 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 against the 
 invasion of an enemy?” “ By continuing poor, and not de¬ 
 siring in your possessions to be one above another.” And to 
 the question, whether they should inclose 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 determine. 
 However, that they hated long speeches, the following apoph¬ 
 thegms are a farther proof. King Leonidas said to one, who 
 discoursed at an improper time about affairs of some con¬ 
 cern,—“ My friend, you should not talk so much to the pur¬ 
 pose, 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 
 >aws are sufficient. ” Some people finding fault with Hecatseus 
 the sophist, because, when admitted to one of the public re¬ 
 pasts, he said nothing all the time, Archidamidas replied,— 
 “ He who knows how to speak, knows also when to speak.” 
 
 The manner of their repartees, which, as I said, were sea 
 soned with humour, may be gathered from these instances. 
 When a troublesome fellow was pestering Demaratus with 
 impertinent questions, and this in particular several times re¬ 
 peated,—“Who is the best man in Sparta?” he answered,— 
 He that is least like you.” To some who were commending 
 
 * This was the form of demanding quarter in battle. 
 
LYCURGUS. 
 
 119 
 
 .he Eleans /or managing the Olympic games with so mucn 
 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 foi Theopompus, and saying that 
 his own countrymen called him Philolacon (a lover of the La¬ 
 cedaemonians), 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,—“ True, for we are the only people of 
 Greece that have learnt no ill of you.” To one who asked 
 what number of men their was in Sparta, Archidamidas said, 
 66 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 that had not some sense worth 
 attending to. For one being asked to go and hear a person 
 who imitated the nightingale to perfection, answered,—“ I 
 nave heard the nightingale herself.” Another said, upon 
 reading this epitaph: 
 
 Victims of Mars, at Selinus they fell, 
 
 Who quench’d the rage of tyranny- 
 
 “ And they deserved to fall, for, instead of quenching it, they 
 should have let it burn out.” A young man answered one 
 that promised him some game cocks that would stand their 
 death ,—“ Give me those~ that will be the death of others.” 
 Another, seeing some people carried into the country in lit¬ 
 ters, said ,— (( May I never sit in any place where I can not 
 rise before the aged!” This was the manner of their apoph¬ 
 thegms; so that it has been justly enough observed, that the 
 term lakonizein (to act the Lacedaemonian) is to be referred 
 rather to the exercises of the mind, than those of the body. 
 
 Nor were poetry and music less cultivated among them, 
 than a concise dignity of expression. Their songs had a spirit, 
 which could rouse the soul, and impel it in an enthusiastic man¬ 
 ner to action. The language was plain and manly, the sub¬ 
 ject serious and moral. For they consisted chiefly of the 
 praises of heroes that had died for Sparta, or else of expres¬ 
 sions of detestation for such wretches as had declined the glo¬ 
 rious opportunity, and rather chose to drag on life in misery 
 and contempt. Nor did they forget to express an ambition 
 for glory suitable to their respective ages. Of this it may not 
 be amiss to give an instance. There were three choirs on 
 their festivals, corresponding with the three ages of man 
 The old men began:— 
 
120 
 
 LYCURGUS. 
 
 Once in battle bold we shone; 
 
 the young men answered,— 
 
 Try ns, our vigour is not gone; 
 
 and the boys concluded,— 
 
 The palm remains for us alone, 
 
 i ndeed, if we consider with some attention such oi the Lace¬ 
 daemonian poems as are still extant, and get into those airs 
 which were played upon the flute when they marched to battle, 
 we must agree that Terpander* and Pindar have very fitly 
 joined valour and music together. The former thus speaks of 
 Lacedaemon:— 
 
 There gleams the youth’s bright falchion; there the muse 
 Lifts her sweet voice; there awful Justice opes 
 Her wide pavilion. 
 
 And Pindar sings:— 
 
 There in grave council sits the sage; 
 
 There burns the youth’s resistless rage 
 To hurl the quiv’ring lance; 
 
 The Muse with glory crowns their arms, 
 
 And Melody exerts her charms. 
 
 And Pleasure leads the dance. 
 
 Thus we are informed, not only of their warlike turn, but 
 their skill in music. For as the Spartan poet says:— 
 
 To swell the bold notes of the lyre 
 Becomes the warrior's lofty fire. 
 
 And the king always offered sacrifice to the Musest before a 
 battle, putting his troops in mind, I suppose, of their early 
 education, and of the judgment that would be passed upon 
 them, as well as that those divinities might teach them to 
 despise danger, while they performed some exploit fit for them 
 to celebrate. 
 
 On those occasions^ they relaxed the severity of their dis- 
 
 * Terpander was a poet and musician too (as, indeed, they of those times 
 were in general), who added three strings to the harp, which till then had 
 but four. He flourished about a hundred and twenty years after Homer. 
 
 •f- Xenophon says, the king who commanded the army, sacrificed to Ju¬ 
 piter and Minerva on the frontier of his kingdom. Probably the Muses 
 were joined with Minerva, the patroness of science. 
 
 t The true reason of this was, in all probability, that w ar might be less 
 burdensome to them; for to render them bold and warlike was the reignm 
 
LYCURGUS, 
 
 121 
 
 cipline, permitting the men to be curious in dressing then 
 hair, and elegant in their aims and apparel, while they ex¬ 
 pressed their alacrity, like horses full of fire, and neighing foi 
 the race. They let their hair, therefore, grow from theii 
 youth, but took more particular care, when they expected an 
 action, to have it well combed and shining, remembering a 
 saying of Lycurgus, that 66 a large head of hair made the hand¬ 
 some more graceful, and the ugly more terrible.” The exer¬ 
 cises, too, of the young men, during the campaigns, were more 
 moderate, their diet not so hard, and their whole treatment 
 more indulgent; so that they were the only people in the world 
 with whom military discipline wore, in time of war, a gentler 
 face than usual. When the army was drawn up, and the ene¬ 
 my near, the king sacrificed a goat, and commanded them all 
 to set garlands upon their heads, and the musicians to play 
 Castor’s march, while himself began the pgan, which was the 
 signal to advance. It was at once a solemn and dreadful sight 
 to see them measuring their steps to the sound of music, and, 
 without the least disorder in their ranks, or tumult of spirits, 
 moving forward cheerfully and composedly, with harmony, 
 to battle. Neither fear nor rashness was likely to approve men 
 so disposed, possessed as they were of a firm presence of mind, 
 with courage and confidence of success, as under the conduct 
 of heaven. When the king advanced against the enemy, 
 he had always with him some one that liad been crowned 
 in the public games of Greece. And they tell us, that a La¬ 
 cedaemonian, when large sums were offered him on condition 
 that he 'Vould not enter the Olympic lists, refused them; hav¬ 
 ing with much difficulty thrown his antagonist, one put this 
 question to him,—“JSpartan, what will you get by this vic¬ 
 tory?” He answered with a smile ,—“ I shall have the honour 
 to fight foremost in the ranks before my prince.” When they 
 had routed the enemy, they continued the pursuit till they 
 were assured of the victory; after that they immediately de¬ 
 sisted; deeming it neither generous nor worthy of a Grecian, to 
 destroy those who made no further resistance. This was not 
 only a proof of magnanimity, but of great service to their 
 cause. For when their adversaries found that they killed such 
 
 passion of their legislator. Under this article we may add, that they were 
 forbidden to remain long encamped in the same place, as well to hinder theii 
 being surprised, as that they might be more troublesome to their enemies, 
 bjr wasting every corner of their country. They were also forbidden tc 
 fight the same enemy often. They slept all night in their armour; but their 
 out-guards were not allowed their shields, that, being unprovided of de¬ 
 fence, they might not dare to sleep. In all expeditions they were careful 
 in the performance of religious rites: and, after their evening meal was over 
 the soldiers sung together hymns to their gods. 
 
 Voi. j.-S 12* 
 
122 
 
 LYCURGUS. 
 
 as stood it out, but spared the fugitives, they concluded it 
 *vas better to fly than to meet their fate upon the spot. 
 
 Hippias, the sophist, tells us, that Lycurgus himself was a 
 man of great personal valour, and an experienced commander. * 
 Philostephanus also ascribes to him the first division of the 
 cavalry into troops of fifty, who were drawn up in a square 
 body. But Demetrius, the Phalerean, says, that he never had 
 any military employment, and that there was the profoundest 
 peace imaginable when he established the constitution of 
 Sparta. His providing for a cessation of arms during the 
 Olympic games, is likewise a mark of the humane and peace¬ 
 able man. Some, however, acquaint us, and among the rest 
 Hermippus, that Lycurgus at first had no communication with 
 Iphitus; but coming that way, and happening to be a specta¬ 
 tor, he heard behind him a human voice (as he thought), 
 which expressed some wonder and displeasure that he did not 
 put his countrymen upon resorting to so great an assembly. 
 He turned round immediately, to discover whence the voice 
 came, and as there was no man to be seen, concluded it was 
 from heaven. He joined Iphitus therefore; and ordering, along 
 with him, the ceremonies of the festival, rendered it more 
 magnificent and lasting. 
 
 The discipline of the Lacedaemonians continued after they 
 were arrived at years of maturity. For no man was at lib¬ 
 erty to live as he pleased, the city being like one great 
 camp, where all had their stated allowance, and knew their 
 public charge, each man concluding that he was born, not for 
 himself, but for his country. Hence, if they had no particu¬ 
 lar orders, they employed themselves in inspecting the boys, 
 and teaching them something useful, er in learning of those 
 that were older than themselves. One of the greatest privi¬ 
 leges that Lycurgus procured his countrymen, was, the en¬ 
 joyment of leisure, the consequence of his forbidding them to 
 exercise any mechanic trade. It was not worth their while to 
 take great pains to raise a fortune, since riches there were of 
 no account; and the Helotes , who tilled the ground, were an¬ 
 swerable for the produce above mentioned. To this purpose 
 vve have a story of a Lacedaemonian, who happening to be at 
 Athens vhile the court sat, was informed of a man who was 
 fined for idleness; and when the poor fellow was returning 
 home in *reat dejection, attended by his consoling friends, he 
 desired tie company to show him the person that was con- 
 
 * Xenophon, in his treatise cf the Spartan commonwealth, says, Lycurgus 
 brought military discipline to great perfection, and gives us a detail of his 
 regulations and improvements in the art of war; some of which I have men¬ 
 tioned in the foregoing note. 
 
LYCURGUS. 
 
 123 
 
 demned lor keeping up his dignity. So much beneath them 
 they reckoned all attention to mechanic arts and all desire ol 
 riches! 
 
 Law-suits were banished from Lacedaemon with monty. 
 The Spartans knew neither riches nor poverty, but possessed 
 an equal competency, and had a cheap and easy way of sup¬ 
 plying their few wants. Hence, when they were not engaged 
 in war, their time was taken up with dancing, feasting, hunting, 
 or meeting to exercise, or converse. They went not to mar¬ 
 ket under thirty years of age,* all their necessary concerns 
 being managed by their relations and adopters. Nor was it 
 reckoned a credit to the old to be seen sauntering in the mar 
 ket-place; it was deemed more suitable for them to pass great 
 part of the day in the schools of exercise, or places of con¬ 
 versation. Their discourse seldom turned upon money, or 
 business, or trade, but upon the praise of the excellent, or the 
 contempt of the worthless; and the last was expressed with 
 that pleasantry and humour, which conveyed instruction and 
 correction, without seeming to intend it. Nor was Lycurgus 
 himself immoderately severe in his manner; but, as Sosibius 
 tells us, he dedicated a little statue to the god of laughter, in 
 each hall. He considered facetiousness as a seasoning of their 
 hard exercise and diet, and therefore ordered it to take place 
 on all proper occasions, in their common entertainments and 
 parties of pleasure. 
 
 Upon the whole, he taught his citizens to think nothing 
 more disagreeable than to live by (or for) themselves. Like 
 bees, they acted with one impulse for the public good, and 
 always assembled about their prince. They were possessed 
 with a thirst of honour, an enthusiasm bordering upon insanity, 
 and had not a wish but for their country. These sentiments 
 are confirmed by some of their aphorisms. When Paedaretus 
 lost his election for one of the three hundred, he went away 
 rejoicing that there were three hundred better men than him¬ 
 self found in the city.t Pisistratidas going with some others, 
 ambassador to the king of Persia’s lieutenants, was asked 
 whether they came with a public commission, or on their own 
 account? to which he answered, “ If successful, for the pub¬ 
 lic; if unsuccessful, for ourselves.” Agrileonis, the mother 
 
 * This also is said to have been the age when they began to serve in the 
 &rmy. But as they were obliged to forty years service before the law ex¬ 
 empted them from going into the field, I incline to the opinion of those 
 writers who think that the military age is not well ascertained. 
 
 f Xenophon says, it was the custom for the Ephori to appoint three offi¬ 
 cers, each of whom was to select a hundred men, the best lie could find* 
 and it was a point of great emulation to be one of these three hundred. 
 
124 
 
 'YCURGUS. 
 
 of Brasidas,* asking some Amphipolitans that waile 1 upon 
 her at her house, whether Brasidas died honourably, and as 
 became a Spartan? they greatly extolled his merit, and said, 
 there was not such a man left in Sparta: whereupon she re* 
 plied, “ Say not so, my friends; for Brasidas was indeed a 
 man of honour, but Lacedaemon can boast of many better men 
 than he.” 
 
 The senate, as I said before, consisted at first of those that 
 were assistants to Lycurgus in his great enterprise. After 
 wards, to fill up any vacancy that might happen, he ordered 
 the most worthy man to be selected of those that were full 
 threescore years old. This was the most respectable dispute 
 in the world, and the contest was truly glorious; for it wa? 
 not who should be swiftest among the swift, or strongest of 
 the strong, but who was the wisest and best among the good 
 and wise. He who had the preference was to bear this mark 
 of superior excellence through life, this great authority, which 
 put into his hands the lives and honour of the citizens, and 
 every other important affair. The manner of the election w T as 
 this:—When the people were assembled, some persons, ap¬ 
 pointed for the purpose, were shut up in a room near the place, 
 where they could neither see nor be seen, and only hear the 
 shouts of the constituents;! for by them they decided this and 
 most other affairs. Each candidate walked silently through 
 the assembly, one after another, according to lot. Those that 
 were shut up had writing-tables, in which they set down in 
 different columns the number and loudness of the shouts, 
 without knowing who they were for; only they marked them 
 as first, second, third, and so on, according to the number of 
 competitors. He that had the most and loudest acclamations, 
 was declared duly elected. Then he was crowned with 9 
 garland, and went round to give thanks to the gods; a num¬ 
 ber of young men followed, striving which should extol him 
 most, and the women celebrated his virtues in their songs, and 
 blessed his worthy life and conduct. Each of his relations 
 offered him a repast, and their address on the occasion was— 
 “ Sparta honours you with this collation.” When he had 
 finished the procession, he went to the common table, and 
 lived as before. Only two portions were set before him, one 
 
 * Biasidas, the Lacedaemonian general, defeated the Athenians in a battle 
 fought near Am ohipolis, a town of Macedonia, on the banks of the Stryiron, 
 but lost his life in the action.— Thucydid. lib. v.- 
 
 j- As this was a tumultuary and uncertain way of deciding who had the 
 majority, they were often obliged to separate the people and count the 
 votes. Aristotle thinks, that in such a case, persons should not offer them¬ 
 selves candidates, or solicit the office or employment, but be called to if 
 merely for their abilities and their meri t. 
 
LYCURGUS. 
 
 1 23 
 
 of which he carried away; and as all the women related to him 
 attended at the gates of the public hall, he called her for whom 
 he had the greatest esteem, and presented her with the por¬ 
 tion, saying at the same time: ‘ 6 That which I received as a 
 mark of honour, I give to you.” Then she was conducted 
 home with great applause by the rest of the women. 
 
 Lycurgus likewise made good regulations with respect to 
 burials. In the first place, to take away all superstition, life 
 ordered the dead to be buried in the city, and even permitted 
 their monuments to be erected near the temples, accustoming 
 the youth to such sights from their infancy, that they might 
 have no uneasiness from them, nor any horror for death, as 
 if people were polluted with the touch of a dead body, or with 
 treading upon a grave. In the next place, he suffered nothing 
 to be buried with the corpse, except the red cloth and the 
 olive leaves in which it was wrapped.* Nor would he suffer 
 the relations to inscribe any names upon the tombs, except ot 
 those men that fell in battle, or those women who died in some 
 sacred office. He fixed eleven days for the time of mourning ; 
 on the twelfth they were to put an end to it, after offering 
 sacrifice to Ceres. No part of life was left vacant and unim 
 proved, but even with their necessary actions he interwove 
 the praise of virtue and the contempt of vice; and he so filled 
 the city with living examples, that it was next to impossible 
 for persons who had these from their infancy before their eyes 
 not to be drawn and formed to honour. 
 
 For the same reason he would not permit all that desired it, 
 to go abroad and see other countries, lest they should contract 
 foreign manners, gain traces of a life of little discipline, and 
 of a different form of government. He forbade strangers toot 
 to resort to Sparta, who could not assign a good reason for 
 their coming; not as Thucydides says, out of fear they should 
 imitate the constitution of that city, and make improvements 
 in virtue, but lest they should teach his own people some evil. 
 For along with foreigners come new subjects of discourse 
 
 * iElian tells us (1. vi. c. 6,) that not all the citizens indifferently were 
 turied in the red cloth and olive leaves, but only such as had distinguished 
 themselves particularly in the field. 
 
 f He received with pleasure such strangers as came and submitted to his 
 /aws, and assigned them shares of land, which they could not alienate. In* 
 deed, the lots of all the citizens were unalienable. 
 
 t Xenophon, who was an eye-witness, imputes the changes in the Spar¬ 
 tan discipline to foreign manners; but in fact they had a deeper root. When 
 the Lacedemonians, instead of keeping to their lawgiver’s injunction, only 
 to defend their own country, and to make no conquests, earned their vic¬ 
 torious arms over all Greece, and into Asia itself, then foreign gold and for 
 eign manners came into Sparta, corrupted the simplicity of its institutions, 
 iikl at last overturned that republic* 
 
126 
 
 LYCURGUS. 
 
 new discourse produces new opinions; and from these there 
 necessarily spring new pissions and desires, which, like dis¬ 
 cords in music, would disturb the established government. 
 He, therefore, thought it more expedient for the city to keej 
 out of it corrupt customs and manners, than even to preven 
 the introduction of a pestilence. 
 
 Thus far, then, we can perceive no vestiges of a disregard 
 to right and wrong, which is the fault some people find with 
 the laws of Lycurgus, allowing them well enough calculated 
 to produce valour, but not to promote justice. Perhaps it was 
 the Cryptia* as they called it, or ambuscade , if that was really 
 one of this lawgiver’s institutions, as Aristotle says it was, 
 which gave Plato so bad an impression both of Lycurgus and 
 his laws. The governors of the youth ordered the shrewdest 
 of them from time to time to disperse themselves in the coun¬ 
 try, provided only with daggers and some necessary provi¬ 
 sions. In the day time they hid themselves, and rested in the 
 most private places they could find, but at night they sallied 
 out into the roads and killed all the Helotes they could meet 
 with. Nay, sometimes by day, they fell upon them in the 
 fields, and murdered the ablest and strongest of them. Thucy¬ 
 dides relates,in his history of the Peloponnesian war, that the 
 Spartans selected such of them as were distinguished for theii 
 courage, to the number of two thousand or more, declared 
 them free, crowned them with garlands, and conducted them 
 to the temples of the gods; but soon after they all disappeared; 
 and no one could, either then or since, give account in what 
 
 * The cruelty of the Lacedaemonians towards the Helotes is frequently 
 spoken of, and generally decried by all authors; though Plutarch, who was a 
 great admirer of the Spartans, endeavours to palliate it as much as may be. 
 These poor wretches were marked out for slaves in their dress, their ges¬ 
 ture, and, in short, in every thing. They wore dog-skin bonnets and sheep¬ 
 skin vests; they were forbidden to learn any liberal art, or to perform any 
 act worthy of their masters. Once a day they received a certain number 01 
 stripes, for fear they should forget they were slaves; and, to crown all, they 
 were liable to this cryptia , which was sure to be executed on all such as 
 spoke, looked, or walked like freemen; a cruel and unnecessary expedient, 
 and unworthy of a virtuous people. The Ephori, indeed, declared war against 
 them. Against whom ? why, against poor naked slaves, who tilled their lands, 
 dressed their food, and did all those offices for them which they were too 
 proud to do for themselves. Plutarch, according to custom, endeavours to 
 place all this cruelty far lower than the times of Lycurgus, and alleges thal 
 it was introduced on account of the Helotes joining with the Messenians, af¬ 
 ter a terrible earthquake that happened about 467 years before the birth of 
 Christ, whereby a great part of Lacedaemon was overthrown, and in which 
 above twenty thousand Spartans perished.' But JElian tells us expressly 
 ''Hist. Var. 1. iii.) that it was the common opinion in Greece, that this very 
 earthquake was a judgment from heaven upon the Spartans for treating 
 these Helotes with such inhumanity. 
 
LYCURGUS. 
 
 127 
 
 manner they were destroyed. Aristotle particularly says, that 
 the Ephorl , as soon as they were invested in their office, de¬ 
 clared war against the Helotes , that they might be massacred 
 under pretence of law. In other respects they treated them 
 with great inhumanity; sometimes they made them drink till 
 they were intoxicated, and in that condition led them into the 
 public halls, to show the young men what drunkenness was. 
 They ordered them to sing mean songs, and to dance ridicu¬ 
 lous dances, but not to meddle with any that were genteel and 
 graceful. Thus they tell us, that when the Thebans afterwards 
 invaded Laconia, and took a great number of the Helotes pri¬ 
 soners, they ordered them to sing the odes of Terpander, 
 Aleman, or Spendon the Lacedaemonian, but they excused 
 themselves, alleging that it was forbidden by their masters. 
 Those who say, that a freeman in Sparta was most a freeman, 
 and a slave most a slave, seem well to have considered the 
 difference of states. But, in my opinion, it was in after-times 
 that these cruelties took place among the Lacedaemonians; 
 chiefly after the great earthquake, when, as history informs us, 
 the Helotes , joining the Messenians, attacked them, did infinite 
 damage to the country, and brought the city to the greatest 
 extremity. I can never ascribe to Lycurgus so abominable 
 an act as that of the ambuscade. I would judge in this case by 
 the mildness and justice which appeared in the rest of his 
 conduct, to which also the gods gave their sanction. 
 
 When his principal institutions had taken root in the man¬ 
 ners of the people, and the government was come to such ma¬ 
 turity as to be able to support and preserve itself, then, as 
 Plato says of the Deity, that he rejoiced when he had created 
 the world, and given it its first motion; so Lycurgus was 
 charmed with the beauty and greatness of his political esta¬ 
 blishment, when he saw it exemplified in fact, and move on in 
 due order. He was next desirous to make it immortal, so far 
 as human wisdom could effect it, and to deliver it doVn un¬ 
 changed to the latest times. For this purpose he assembled 
 all the people, and told them, the provisions he had already 
 made for the state were indeed sufficient for virtue and happi¬ 
 ness, but the greatest and most important matter was still be¬ 
 hind, which he could not disclose to them till he had consult¬ 
 ed the oracle; that they must therefore inviolably observe his 
 laws, without altering anything in them, till he returned from 
 Delphi; and then he would acquaint them with the pleasure of 
 Apollo. When they had all promised to do so, and desired 
 nim to set forward, he took an oath of the kings and senators, 
 and afterwards of all the citizens, that they would abide by the 
 present establishment till Lycurgus came back. He then 
 took his journey to D dphi 
 
128 
 
 LYCURGUS. 
 
 When he arrived there, he offered sacrifice to the gods, and 
 consulted the oracle, whether his laws w r ere sufficient to pro¬ 
 mote virtue and secure the happiness of the state. Apollo an¬ 
 swered, that the laws were excellent, and that the city which 
 kept to the constitution he had established would be the most 
 glorious in the world. This oracle Lycurgus took down in 
 writing, and sent it to Sparta. He then offered another sacri 
 fice, and embraced his friends and his son, determined never 
 to release his citizens from their oath, but voluntarily there to 
 put a period to his life,* when he was yet of an age when life 
 was not a burden, when death was not desirable, and while he 
 was not unhappy in any one circumstance. He therefore de¬ 
 stroyed himself by abstaining from food, persuaded that the 
 very death of lawgivers should have its use, and their exit, so 
 far from being insignificant, have its share of virtue to be con 
 sidered as a great action. To him, indeed, whose perform 
 ances were so illustrious, the conclusion of life was the crown 
 of happiness; and his death was left guardian of those invalua¬ 
 ble blessings he had procured his countrymen through life, as 
 they had taken an oath not to depart from his establishment 
 till his return. Nor was he deceived in his expectations. 
 Sparta continued superior to the rest of Greece both in its go¬ 
 vernment at home and reputation abroad, so long as it retain¬ 
 ed the institution of Lycurgus; and this it did during the space 
 of five hundred years, and the reign of fourteen successive 
 kings, down to Agis the son of Archidamus. As for the ap¬ 
 pointment of the Ephori , it was so far from weakening the 
 constitution, that it gave it additional vigour; and though it 
 seemed to be established in favour of the people, it strength 
 ened the aristocracy.! 
 
 But in the reign of Agis money found its way into Sparta, 
 and with money came its inseparable attendant, avarice. This 
 was by means of Lysander; who, though himself incapable of 
 being corrupted by money, filled his country with the love of 
 it and with luxury too. He brought both gold and silver from 
 the wars, J and thereby broke through the laws of Lycurgus. 
 
 * Yet Lucian says that Lycurgus died at the age of eighty-five. 
 
 \ After all this pompous account, Plutarch himself acknowledges, that an 
 thors are not well agreed how and where this great man died. That he 
 starved himself is improbable; but that he returned no more to his country, 
 seems to be perfectly agreeable to his manner of acting, as well as to the 
 current of history. 
 
 t Xenophon acquaints us, that when Lysander had taken Athens, he sent 
 to Sparta many rich spoils and 470 talents of silver. The coming of tliis huge 
 mass of wealth created great disputes at Sparta. Many celebrated Lysan- 
 der’s praises, and rejoiced exceedingly at tliis good fortune, as they called 
 it; others, who were better acquainted with the nature of things, and with 
 their constitution, were of quite another opinion; they looked upon the re- 
 
LYCURGUS. 
 
 129 
 
 While these were in force, Sparta was not so much under the 
 political regulations of a commonwealth, as the strict rules of 
 a philosophic life; and as the poets feign of Hercules, that only 
 with a club and lion’s skin he travelled over the world, clear¬ 
 ing it of lawless ruffians and cruel tyrants; so the Lacedaemoni¬ 
 ans, with a piece of parchment* and a coarse coat, kept Greece 
 in a voluntary obedience, destroyed usurpation and tyranny 
 in the states, put an end to wars, and laid seditions asleep, very 
 often without either shield or lance, and only by sending one 
 ambassador; to whose directions all parties concerned imme- 
 di itely submitted. Thus bees, when their prince appears, com¬ 
 pose their quarrels, and unite in one swarm. So much did 
 justice and good government prevail in that state, that I am 
 surprised at those who say, the Lacedaemonians knew indeed 
 how to obey, but not how to govern; and on this occasion 
 quote the saying of king Theopompus, who, when one told 
 him, that—“ Sparta was preserved by the good administra¬ 
 tion of its kings,” replied, “ Nay, rather by the obedience 
 of their subjects. ” It is certain that people will not continue 
 pliant to those who know not how to command; but it is the 
 
 E art of a good governor to teach obedience. He who knows 
 ow to lead well, is sure to be well followed; and as it is by 
 the art of horsemanship that a horse is made gentle and tracta 
 ble, so it is by the abilities of him that fills the throne that the 
 people become ductile and submissive. Such was the conduct 
 of the Lacedaemonians, that people did not only endure, but 
 even desired to be their subjects. They asked not of them 
 either ships, money, or troops, but only a Spartan general. 
 When they had received him, they treated him with the 
 greatest honour and respect; so Gylippus was revered by the 
 Sicilians, Brasidas by the Chalcidians, Lysander, Callicrati- 
 das, and Agesilaus, by all the people of Asia. These, and 
 
 ceipt of this treasure as an open violation of the laws of Lycurgus; and they 
 expressed their apprehensions loudly, that in process of time they might, by 
 a change in their manners, pay infinitely more for this money than it was 
 worth. The event justified their fears. 
 
 * This was the scytale , the nature and use of which Plutarch explains ir 
 the life of Lysander. He tells us, that when the magistrates gave their com 
 mission to any admiral or general, they took two round pieces of wood, 
 both exactly equal in breadth and thickness (Thucydides adds that they 
 were smooth and long 1 ;) one they kept themselves, the other was delivered 
 to their officer. When they had any thing 1 of moment which they would 
 secretly convey to him, they cut a long 1 narrow scroll of parchment, and 
 rolling* it about their own staff, one fold close upon another, they wrote their 
 business on it, when they had wrote what they had to say, they took off the 
 parchment, and sent it to the general; and he applying it to his own staff, 
 the characters which before were confused and unintelligible appeared then 
 very plainly. 
 
 Vol. i.-T 
 
 1 3 
 
130 
 
 LYCURGUS. 
 
 such as these, wherever they came, were called moderators 
 and reformers, both of the magistrates and people, and Sparta 
 itself was considered as a school of discipline, where the beau¬ 
 ty of life and political order were taught in the utmost perfec¬ 
 tion. Hence Stratonicus seems facetiously enough to have 
 said,—“ That he would order the Athenians to have the con¬ 
 duct of mysteries and processions; the Eleans to preside in 
 games, as their particular province; and the Lacedaemonians 
 to be beaten if the others did amiss ”* This was spoken in 
 jest: but Antisthenes, one of the scholars of Socrates, said 
 (more seriously) of the Thebans, when he saw them pluming 
 themselves upon their success at Leuctra,—“ They were just 
 like so many school-boys rejoicing that they had beaten their 
 master.” 
 
 It was not, however, the principle design of Lycurgus, that 
 his city should govern many others, but he considered its hap¬ 
 piness, like that of a private man, as flowing from virtue and 
 self-consistency; he therefore, so ordered and disposed it, 
 that by the freedom and sobriety of its inhabitants, and 
 their having a sufficiency within themselves, its continuance 
 might be the more secure. Plato, Diogenes, Zeno, and other 
 writers upon government, have taken Lycurgus for their mo¬ 
 del; and these nave attained great praise, though they left only 
 an idea of something excellent. Yet he who, not in idea and 
 in words, but in fact, produced a most inimitable form of go¬ 
 vernment, and by showing a whole city of philosophers, t con¬ 
 founded those who imagine, that the so much talked of strict¬ 
 ness of a philosophic life is impracticable; he, I say, stands in 
 the rank of glory far before the founders of all the other Gre¬ 
 cian states. X Therefore Aristotle is of opinion, that the ho¬ 
 nours paid him in Lacedaemon were far beneath his merit. 
 Yet those honours were very great; for he has a temple there, 
 
 * Because the teachers should be answerable for the faults of their pu¬ 
 pils. The pleasantry of the observation seems to be this: That as the La¬ 
 cedaemonians uaed to punish the parents or adopters of those young’ people 
 that behaved amiss; now that they were the instructors of other nations, they 
 should suffer for their faults. Bryan’s latin text has it, that the Lacedaemo¬ 
 nians should heat them . But there is no joke in that. 
 
 X Aristotle and Plato differ in this from Plutarch. Even Polybius, who 
 was so gTeat an admirer of the Spartan government, allows, that though the 
 Spartans, considered as individuals, were wise and virtuous, yet, in their col¬ 
 lective capacity, they paid but little regard to justice and moderation. 
 
 t Solon, though a person of different temper, was no less disinterested 
 than Lycurgus. lie settled the Athenian commonwealth, refused the sove* 
 reignty when offered him, travelled to avoid the importunities of his coun¬ 
 trymen, opposed tyranny in liis old age, and when he found his opposition 
 vain, went into voluntary exile. Lycurgus and Solon were both great men; 
 but the former had the stronger, the latter the milder genius: the effects of 
 ’srlvich appeivd in the commonwealths they founded. 
 
LYCURGUS. 
 
 131 
 
 and they offer him a yearly sacrifice, as a god. It is also said, 
 that when his remains were brought home, his tomb was 
 struck with lightning; a seal of divinity which no other man, 
 however eminent, has had, except Euripides, who died and 
 was buried at Arethusa in Macedonia. This was matter of 
 great satisfaction and triumph to the friends of Euripides, that 
 the same thing should befall him after death, which had for¬ 
 merly happened to the most venerable of men, and the most 
 favoured of heaven. Some say Lycurgus died atCirrha; but 
 Apollothemis will have it that he was brought to Elis and died 
 there; and Timaeus and Aristoxenus write, that he ended his 
 days in Crete; nay, Aristoxenus adds, that the Cretans show 
 his tomb at Pergamia, near the high-road. We are told he 
 left an only son named Antiorus: and as he died without issue, 
 the family was extinct. His friends and relations observed 
 his anniversary, which subsisted for many ages, and the days 
 on which they met for that purpose they called Lycurgidae. 
 Aristocrates, the son of Hipparchus, relates, that the friends 
 of Lycurgus, with whom he sojourned, and at last died in 
 Crete, burned his body, and, at his request threw his ashes 
 into the sea. Thus he guarded against the possibility of his 
 remains being brought back to Sparta by the Lacedaemonians, 
 lest they should then think themselves released from their 
 oath, on the pretence that he was returned, and make innova¬ 
 tions in the government. This is what we had to say of Ly¬ 
 curgus. 
 
THE 
 
 LIFE OF NUMA. 
 
 There is likewise a great diversity amongst historians 
 about the time in which king Numa lived, though some fami¬ 
 lies seem to trace their genealogy up to him with sufficient 
 accuracy. However, a certain writer, called Clodius, in his 
 emendations of chronology, affirms, that the ancient archives 
 were destroyed when Rome was sacked by the Gauls; and 
 that those which are now shown as such, were forged in favour 
 of some persons who wanted to stretch their lineage far back, 
 and to deduce it from the most illustrious houses. Some say, 
 that Numa was the scholar of Pythagoras;* but others con¬ 
 tend, that he was unacquainted with the Grecian literature, 
 either alleging, that his own genius was sufficient to conduct 
 him to excellence, or that he was instructed by some barbarian 
 philosopher, superior to Pythagoras. Some, again, affirm 
 that Pythagoras of Samos flourished about five generations 
 below the times of Numa; but that Pythagoras the Spartan, 
 who won the prize at the Olympic race in the sixteenth 
 Olympiad (about the third year of which it was that Numa 
 came to the throne,) travelling into Italy, became acquaint¬ 
 ed with that prince, and assisted him in regulating the go¬ 
 vernment. Hence many Spartan customs, taught by Pytha¬ 
 goras, were intermixed with the Roman. But this mixture 
 might have another cause, as Numa was of Sabine extraction 
 and the Sabines declare themselves to have been a Lacedaemo¬ 
 nian colony, t It is difficult, however, to adjust the times ex 
 
 * Pythagoras the philosopher went not into Italy till the reign of the elder 
 Tarquin, which was in the fifty-first Olympiad, and four generations (a* 
 Dionysius of Halicarnassus tells us) after Numa. 
 
 *(* The same Dionysius informs us, that he found, in the history of the Sa 
 bines, that while Lycurgus was guardian to his nephew Euromus (Charilaus 
 it should be,) some of the Lacedzemonians, unable to endure the severity 
 of his laws, fled into Italy, and settled first at Pometia; from whence several 
 of them removed into the country of the Sabines, and uniting with that peo 
 pie, taught them their customs; particularly those relating to the conduct 
 of war, to fortitude, patience, and a frugal and abstemious manner of living. 
 This colony, then, settled in Italy a hundred and twenty years before tbs 
 birth of Numa. 
 
NUMA. 
 
 133 
 
 actly, particularly those that are only distinguished with the 
 names of the Olympic conquerors; of which, we are told, 
 Hippias the Elean, made a collection at a late period, without 
 sufficient vouchers. We shall now relate what we have met 
 with most remarkable concerning Numa, beginning from that 
 point of time which is most suitable to our purpose. 
 
 It was in the thirty-seventh year from the building of Rome, 
 and of the reign of Romulus, on the seventh of the month of 
 July (which day is now called Nonse Caprotinae,) when that 
 prince went out of the city to offer a solemn sacrifice at a place 
 called the Goat’s-Marsh, in the presence of the senate and 
 great part of the people. Suddenly there happened a great 
 alteration in the air, and the clouds burst in a storm of wind 
 and hail. The rest of the assembly were struck with terror, 
 and fled, but Romulus disappeared, and could not be found 
 either alive or dead. Upon this the senators fell under a vio¬ 
 lent suspicion, and a report was propagated against them 
 among the people, that having long been weary of the yoke 
 of kingly government, and desirous to get the power into their 
 own hands, they had murdered the king; particularly as he 
 had treated them for some time in an arbitrary and imperious 
 banner. But they found means to obviate this suspicion, by 
 paying divine honours to Romulus, as a person that had been 
 privileged from the fate of other mortals, and was only remov- 
 eu to a happier scene. Moreover, Proculus, a man of high 
 rank, made oath that he saw Romulus carried up to heaven in 
 complete armour, and heard a voice commanding that he 
 should be called Quirinus. 
 
 Fresh disturbances and tumults arose in the city about the 
 election of a new king, the later inhabitants being not yet 
 thoroughly incorporated with the first, the commonalty fluc¬ 
 tuating and unsettled in itself, and the patricians full of ani¬ 
 mosity and jealousies of each other. All, indeed, agreed that 
 a king should be appointed, but they differed and debated, 
 not only about the person to be fixed upon, but from which 
 of the two nations he should be elected. For neither could 
 they who with Romulus built the city, endure, that the Sa¬ 
 bines, who had been admitted citizens, and obtained a share 
 of the lands, should attempt to command those from whom 
 they had received such privileges; nor yet could the Sabines 
 depart from their claim of giving a king in their turn to Rome, 
 having this good argument in their favour, that upon the death 
 of Tatius, they had suffered Romulus peaceably to enjoy the 
 throne, without a colleague. It was also to be considered, 
 that they did not come as inferiors to join a superior people, 
 but by their rank and number added strength and dignity tc 
 the city that received them. These were the arguments or 
 
134 
 
 NUMA. 
 
 which they founded their claims. Lest this dispute should 
 produce an utter confusion, whilst there was no king, nor any 
 steersman at the helm, the senators made an order that the hun¬ 
 dred and fifty members who composed their body,'* should 
 each, in their turns, be attired in the robes of state, in the 
 room of Quirinus; offer the stated sacrifices to the gods, and 
 despatch the whole public business, six hours in the day, and 
 six hours at night. This distribution of time seemed well con¬ 
 trived, in point of equality amongst the regents, and the change 
 of power from hand to hand, prevented its being obnoxious to 
 the people, who saw the same person, in one day and one night, 
 reduced from a king to a private man- This occasional ad¬ 
 ministration the Romans call an Interregnum. 
 
 But though the matter was managed in this moderate and 
 popular way, the senators could not escape the suspicions and 
 complaints of the people, that they were changing the govern 
 ment into an oligarchy, and, as they had the direction of all 
 affairs in their hands, were unwilling to have a king. At last 
 it was agreed between the two parties, that one nation should 
 choose a king out of the whole body of the other. This was 
 considered as the best means of putting a stop to the present 
 contention, and of inspiring the king with an affection for both 
 parties, since he would be gracious to these, because they had 
 elected him, and to those as his kindred and countrymen 
 The Sabines leaving the Romans to their option, they prefer 
 red a Sabine king of their own electing, to a Roman chosen 
 by the Sabines. Consulting, therefore, among themselves,t 
 they fixed upon Numa Pompilius, a Sabine, who was not of 
 the number of those that had migrated to Rome, but so cele¬ 
 brated for virtue, that the Sabines received the nomination 
 even with greater applause than the Romans themselves. When 
 they had acquainted the people with their resolution, they sent 
 
 * According 1 to our author, in the life of Romulus, the number of the 
 senators was two hundred. Indeed, Dionysius says, that writers differed 
 in this particular, some affirming*, that one hundred senators were added to 
 the original number, upon the union of the Sabines with the Romans; and 
 others, that only fifty were added. Livy gives the most probable account 
 of the manner of the interregnum. The senators, he says, divided them¬ 
 selves into decuries or tens. These decuries drew lots which should govern 
 first; and the decury to whose lot it fell, enjoyed the supreme authority for 
 five days; yet, in such a manner, that one person only of the governing 
 decury had the ensigns of sovereignty at a time. 
 
 •j* The interrex , for the time being, having summoned the people, address¬ 
 ed them thus:—“ Romans, elect yourselves a king; the senate give their 
 consent; and, if you choose a prince worthy to succeed Romulus, the senate 
 will confirm your choice.” The people were so well pleased with this con 
 descension of the senate, tha* they remitted the choice to them., 
 
NUMA. L3 
 
 the most eminent personages of both nations ambassadors, t.c 
 entreat him to come and take upon him the government. 
 
 Numa was of Cures, a considerable city of the Sabines, from 
 which the Romans, together with the incorporated Sabines, 
 took the name of Quirites . He was the son of a person of dis 
 tinction, named Pomponius, and the youngest of four brothers. 
 It seemed to be by the direction of the gods, that he was born 
 the twenty-first of April, the same day that Rome was founded 
 by Romulus. His mind was naturally disposed to virtue; and 
 he still farther subdued it by discipline, patience and philoso¬ 
 phy; not only purging it of the grosser and more infamous 
 passions, but even of that ambition and rapaciousness which 
 was reckoned honourable amongst the barbarians; persuaded 
 that true fortitude consists in the conquest of appetites by 
 reason. On this account, he banished all luxury and splen¬ 
 dour from-his house; and both the citizens and strangers found 
 in him a faithful counsellor, and an upright judge. As for 
 his hours of leisure, he spent them not in the pursuits of plea¬ 
 sure, or schemes of profit, but in the worship of the gods, and 
 ; n rational inquiries into their nature, and their power. His 
 name became at length so illustrious, that Tatius, who was 
 the associate of Romulus in the kingdom, having an only 
 daughter named Tatia, bestowed her upon him. He was not, 
 however, so much elated with this match as to remove to the 
 court of his father-in-law, but continued in the country of the 
 Sabines, paying his attentions to his own father, who was now 
 grown old. Tatia was partaker of his retirement and prefer 
 red the calm enjoyment of life with her husband in privacy, 
 to the honours and distinction in which she might have lived 
 with her father at Rome. Thirteen years after their marriage 
 she died. 
 
 Numa then left the society of the city, and passed his time 
 m wandering about alone in the sacred groves and lawns, in 
 the most retired and solitary places. Hence the report con¬ 
 cerning the goddess Egeria chiefly took its rise;* and it was 
 
 * Numa’s inclination to solitude, and his custom of retiring* into the secret 
 places of the forest of Aricia, gave rise to several popular opinions. Some 
 believed, that the nymph Egeria herself dictated to him the laws, both civil 
 and religious, which he established. And, indeed, he declared so himself, 
 in order to procure a divine sanction to them. But, as no great man is with¬ 
 out aspersions, others have thought, that, under this affected passion for 
 woods and caves, was concealed another, more real and less chaste. This 
 gave occasion to that sarcasm of Juvenal, in speaking of the grove of Ege¬ 
 ria, (Sat. iii. ver. 12,) 
 
 Hie, ubi nocturnac Numa constituebat amicae. 
 
 Ovid says, that, to remove her grief for the loss of Numa, Diana change J 
 ber into a fountain which still bears her name.— Metam. 1. xv. 
 
136 
 
 NUMA. 
 
 believed that it was not from any inward sorrow or melan 
 choly turn that he avoided human conversation, but from his 
 being admitted to that which was more venerable and excel¬ 
 lent, from the honour he had of a familiar intercourse with a 
 divinity that loved mm, which led him to happiness and kn dw- 
 ledge more than mortal. It is obvious enough, how much 
 this resembles many of the ancient stories received and de¬ 
 livered down by the Phrygians of Atys,* the Bythenians of 
 Herodotus, and the Arcadians of Endymion; to whom might 
 be added many others, who were thought to have attained to 
 superior felicity, and to be beloved in an extraordinary man¬ 
 ner by the gods. And, indeed, it is rational enough to sup¬ 
 pose, that the deity would not place his affection upon horses 
 or birds, but rather upon human beings, eminently distin¬ 
 guished by virtue; and that he neither dislikes nor disdains to 
 hold conversation with a man of wisdom and piety. But that 
 a divinity should be captivated with the external beauty of any 
 human body, is irrational to believe. The Egyptians, indeed, 
 make a distinction in this case, which they think not an absurd 
 one, that it is not impossible for a woman to be impregnated 
 by the approach of some divine spirit; but that a man can have 
 no corporeal intercourse with a goddess. But they do not, 
 however, consider that a mixture, be it of what sort it may, 
 equally communicates its being. In short, the regard which 
 the gods have for men, though, like a human passion, it be 
 called love, must be employed in forming their manners, and 
 raising them to higher degrees of virtue. In this sense we 
 may admit the assertion of the poets, that Phorbas,t Hyacin- 
 thus, and Admetus, were beloved by Apollo; and that Hip- 
 polytus the Sicyonian, was equally in his favour; so that 
 whenever he sailed from Cirrha to Sicyon, the priestess, to 
 signify Apollo’s satisfaction, repeated this heroic verse:— 
 
 * Atys was said to be beloved by the goddess Cybele, and Endymion by 
 Diana; but we believe there is nowhere else any mention made of this Hero¬ 
 dotus, or Rhodotus, as Dacier from his manuscript calls him. 
 
 j* Phorbas was the son of Triopas, king of Argos. He delivered the Rho¬ 
 dians from a prodigious number of serpents that infested their island, and 
 particularly from one furious dragon, that had devoured a great many peo¬ 
 ple. He was, therefore, supposed to be dear to Apollo, who had slain the 
 Python. After his death he was placed in the heavens, with the dragon he 
 had destroyed, in the constellation Ophiucus y or Serpentarius. 
 
 Hyacinthus was the son of Amyclas, founder of the city of Amyclse, neaT 
 Sparta. He was beloved by Apollo and Zephyrus, and was killed in a fit of 
 jealousy by the latter, who, with a puff of wind, caused a quoit thrown by 
 Apollo to fall upon his head. He was changed into a flower which bears 
 his name. Vide Pausan. de Laconic. 1. iii. et Ovid. Metam. 1. x.fab. 5. 
 
 Admetus was the son of Pheres, king of Thessaly. It is sail that Apoll« 
 kept his sheep. 
 
NUMA. 
 
 137 
 
 He comes, again the much-love d hero comes. 
 
 It is also fabled, that Pan was in love with Pindar,* * * § on ac¬ 
 count of his poetry; and that Archilochus and Hesiod,t aftet 
 their death, were honoured by the heavenly powers for the 
 same reason. Sophocles, too (as the story goes) was blessed in 
 his lifetime with the conversation of the god iEsculapius, of 
 which many proofs still remain; and another deity procured 
 him burial. J Now, if we admit that these were so highly fa 
 roured, shall we deny that Zaleucus ? § Minos, Zoroaster, Nu 
 ma, and Lycurgus, kings and lawgivers, were happy in the 
 same respect? Nay, rather, we shall think, that the gods 
 might seriously converse with such excellent persons as these, 
 to instruct and encourage them in their great attempts; where¬ 
 as, if they indulged poets and musicians in the same grace, it 
 must be by way of diversion. To such as are of another 
 opinion, I shall say, however, with Bacchylides, The way is 
 broad . For it is no unplausible account of the matter which 
 others give, when they tell us that Lycurgus, Numa, and 
 other great men, finding their people difficult to manage, and 
 alterations to be made in their several governments, pretend¬ 
 ed commissions from heaven, which were salutary, at least to 
 those for whom they were invented. 
 
 Numa was now in his fortieth year, when ambassadors came 
 from Rome to make him an offer of the kingdom. The speak¬ 
 ers were Proculus and Velesus, whom the people before had 
 cast their eyes upon for the royal dignity, the Romans being 
 attached to Proculus and the Sabines to Velesus. As they 
 imagined that Numa would gladly embrace his good fortune, 
 they made but a short speech. They found it, however, no 
 easy matter to persuade him, but were obliged to make use of 
 much entreaty to draw him from that peaceful retreat he was 
 so fond of, to the government of a city, born, as it were, and 
 
 * Pindar had a particular devotion for the god Pan, and therefoie took up 
 his abode near the temple of Rhea and Pan. He composed the hymns 
 which the Theban virgins sung on the festival of that deity; and, it is said, he 
 had the happiness to hear Pan himself singing one of his odes. 
 
 ■f Archilochus was slain by a soldier of Naxos, who was obliged by the 
 priestess of Apollo to make expiation for having killed a man consecrated to 
 the Muses.—As for Hesiod, the Orchomenians, a people of Boeotia, being ter¬ 
 ribly afflicted by a plague, were ordered by the oracle to remove the bohes 
 cf that poet, from Naupactus in iEtolia, into their country. 
 
 t Sophocles died at Athens, while Lysander was carrying on the siege of 
 the city; and Bacchus is said to have appeared to the Spartan general in a 
 dream, and ordered him to permit the new Athenian Syren to be buried at 
 Decelea. 
 
 § Zaleucus gave laws to the Locrians in Magna Graecia; Zoroaster, one of 
 the magi , and king of the Bactrians, to his own subjects; and Minos to the 
 people of Crete. 
 
 Vol. I.-IT 
 
138 
 
 NUMA. 
 
 brought up in war Ir. the presence, therefore, of his father, 
 and one of his kinsmen, named Marcius, he gave them this 
 answer :—“ Every change of human life has its dangers; but 
 when a man has a sufficiency for every thing, and there is no¬ 
 thing in his present situation to be complained of, what hut 
 madness can lead him from his usual track of life, which, it it 
 has no other advantage, has that of certainty, to experience 
 another as yet doubtful and unknown? But the dangers that 
 attend this government are beyond an uncertainty, if we may 
 form a judgment from the fortunes of Romulus, who laboured 
 under the suspicion of taking off Tatius, his colleague, and was 
 supposed to have lost his own life with equal injustice. Yet 
 Romulus is celebrated as a person of divine origin, as super- 
 naturally nourished when an infant, and most wonderfully pre¬ 
 served. For my part, I am only of mortal race, and you are 
 sensible my nursing and education boast of nothing extraordi 
 nary. As for my character, if it has any distinction, it has been 
 gained in a way not likely to qualify me for a king, in scenes of 
 repose and employments by no means arduous. My genius is 
 inclined to peace, my love has long been fixed upon it, and I 
 have studiously avoided the confusion of war; I have also 
 drawn others, so far as my influence extended, to the worship 
 of the gods, to mutual offices of friendship, and to spend the rest 
 of their time in tilling the ground, and feeding cattle. The 
 Romans may have unavoidable wars left upon their hands by 
 their late king, for the maintaining of which you have need o*f 
 another more active and more enterprising. Besides, the 
 people are of a warlike disposition, spirited with success, and 
 plainly enough discover their inclination to extend their con¬ 
 quests. Of course, therefore, a person who has set his heart 
 upon the promoting of religion and justice, and drawing men 
 off from the love of violence and war, would soon become 
 ridiculous and contemptible to a city that has more occasion 
 for a general than a king.” 
 
 Numa in this manner declining the crown, the Romans, on 
 the other hand exerted all their endeavours to obviate his ob¬ 
 jections, and begged of him not to throw them into confusion 
 and civil war again, as there was no other whom both parties 
 would unanimously elect. When the ambassadors had retired, 
 his father and his friend Marcius privately urged him, by all 
 the arguments in their power, to receive this great and valua¬ 
 ble gift of heaven ;—“ If contented,” said they, “ with a com 
 petence, you desire not riches, nor aspire after the honour of 
 sovereignty, having a higher and better distinction in virtue; 
 vet consider that a king is the minister of God, who now awa 
 kens, and puts in action your native wisdom and justice. Be¬ 
 eline not, therefore, an authority which to a wise man is a 
 
NUMA 
 
 139 
 
 field foi great and good actions; whei i dignity may be added 
 to religion, and men may be brought over to piety, in the 
 easiest and readiest way, by the influence of the prince. Ta- 
 tius, though a stranger, was beloved by his people; and they 
 pay divine honours to the memory of ‘Romulus. Besides, 
 who knows, as they are victorious, but they may be satiated 
 with war, and having no farther wish for triumphs and spoils, 
 may be desirous of a mild and just governor for the establish¬ 
 ing of good laws, and the settling of peace? But should they 
 be ever so ardently inclined to war, yet is it not better to turn 
 their violence another way, and to be the centre of union and 
 friendship between the country of the Sabines and so great 
 and flourishing a state as that of Rome?” These inducements, 
 we are told, were strengthened by auspicious omens, and by 
 the zeal and ardour of his fellow-citizens, who, as soon as they 
 had learned the subject of the embassy, went in a body to en¬ 
 treat him to take the government upon him, as the only means 
 to appease all dissensions, and effectually incorporate the two 
 nations into one. 
 
 When he had determined to go, he offered sacrifice to the 
 gods, and then set forward to Rome. Struck with love and 
 admiration of the man, the senate and people met him on the 
 way; the women welcomed him with blessings and shouts of 
 joy; the temples were crowded with sacrifices; and so univer¬ 
 sal was the satisfaction, that the city might seem to have re¬ 
 ceived a kingdom, instead of a king. When they were come 
 into the forum, Spurius Vettius, whose turn it then was to be 
 Interrex , put it to the vote whether Numa should be king, and 
 all the citizens agreed to it with one voice. The robes and 
 other distinctions of royalty then were offered him, but he 
 commanded them to stop, as his authority yet wanted the sanc¬ 
 tion of heaven. Taking, therefore, with him the priests and 
 augurs, he went up to the Capitol, which the Romans at that 
 time called the Tarpeian rock. There the chief of the augurs 
 covered the head of Numa,* and turned his face towards the 
 south; then standing behind him, and laying his right hand 
 upon his head, he offered up his devotions, and looked around 
 him, in hopes of seeing birds, or some other signal from the 
 
 * So it is in the text of Plutarch, as it now stands; but it appears from 
 Livy, that the augur covered his own head, not that of Numa, Augur ad 
 laevam ejus 9 capite velato , sedem ccpit , &c. And, indeed, the augur always 
 covered his head in a gown peculiar to his office, called Ldenae, when he 
 made his observations. Mezeray reconciles these writers, and removes the 
 seeming mistake of Plutarch, by a reading which Francis Robortel had 
 found in an ancient manuscript, <rcv /wsv «/c /uio-a/ufipiciv ryxiKdLAv/ufxwoi ceuro^ 
 
 k'ju «£ow3w. If this be considered only as an emendation, it i9 a very 
 
 good one. 
 
140 
 
 NUMA. 
 
 gods. An incredible silence reigned among the people, anx 
 ious for the event, and lost in suspense, till the auspicious birds 
 appeared, and passed on the right hand. Then Numa took 
 the royal robe, and went down from the mount to the people, 
 who received him with loud acclamations, as the most pious 
 of men, and most beloved of the gods. 
 
 His first act of government was to discharge the body oi 
 three hundred men, called Celeres,* whom Romulus always 
 kept about his person as guards; for he neither chose to dis¬ 
 trust those who put confidence in him, nor to reign over a 
 people that could distrust him. In the next place, to the 
 priests of Jupiter and Mars he added one for Romulus, whom 
 he styled Flamen Quirinalis. Flamlnes was a common name for 
 priests before that time, and it is said to have been corrupted 
 from Pilamines , a term derived from Pilot, which in Greek sig¬ 
 nifies capsf (for they wore, it seems, a kind of caps or hoods), 
 and the Latin language had many more Greek words mixed 
 with it then than it has at this time. Thus royal mantles 
 were by the Romans called Lzenx, which Juba assures us was 
 from the Greek Chlsense; and the name of Camillusi , given to 
 the youth who served in the temple of Jupiter, and who was 
 to have both his parents alive, was the same which some of 
 the Greeks give to Mercury, on account of his being an at 
 tendant of that god. 
 
 Numa having settled these matters with a view to establish 
 himself in the people’s good graces, immediately after at¬ 
 tempted to soften them as iron is softened by fire, and to 
 bring them from a violent and warlike disposition to a juster 
 and more gentle temper. For, if any city ever was a m a 
 state of inflammation,” as Plato expresses it, Rome certainly 
 was, being composed at first of the most hardy and resolute 
 men, whom boldness and despair had driven thither from all 
 quarters, nourished and grown up to power by a series of wars, 
 and strengthened even by blows and conflicts, as piles fixed 
 in the ground become firmer under the strokes of the rammer. 
 Persuaded that no ordinary means were sufficient to form and 
 
 * Numa did not make use of them as guards, but as inferior ministers, 
 who were to take care of the sacrifices, under the direction of the tribunes, 
 who had commanded them in their military capacity. 
 
 Others think they took their names from the flame-coloured tufts they 
 had on their caps. They were denominated from the particular god to 
 whom their ministry was confined, as Flamen Dialis , the priest of Jupiter; 
 Flamen Mariialis , the priest of Mars. 
 
 t Camillas \5 derived from the Boeotic ndtAuixos, which properly signifies a 
 servitor. \n \very temple there was a youth of quality, whose business it 
 was to miukfcei’ to the priest. It was necessary that the father and mothei 
 of the youth should be both alive; for which reason Plutarch makes use of 
 the word ctw^cixtt, which the Latins call patrimum et matrimum. 
 
NUMA. 
 
 141 
 
 reduce so high-spirited and untractable a people to mildness 
 and peace, he called in the assistance of religion. By sacrifi¬ 
 ces, religious dances, and processions, which he appointed, and 
 wherein himself officiated, he contrived to mix the charms ot 
 festivity and social pleasure with the solemnity of the ceremo¬ 
 nies. Thus he soothed their minds, and calmed their fierce¬ 
 ness and martial fire. Sometimes, also, by acquainting them 
 with prodigies from heaven, by reports of dreadful appari¬ 
 tions and menacing voices, he inspired them with terror, and 
 humbled them with superstition. This was the principal cause 
 of the report that he drew his wisdom from the sources oi 
 Pythagoras; for a great part of the philosophy of the latter, as 
 well as the government of the former, consisted in religious 
 attentions and the worship of the gods. It is likewise said, 
 that his solemn appearance and air of sanctity was copied from 
 Pythagoras. That philosopher had so far tamed an eagle, 
 that, by pronouncing certain words, he could stop it in its 
 flight, or bring it down; and passing through the multitudes 
 assembled at the Olympic games, he showed them his golden 
 thigh; besides other arts and actions, by which he pretended 
 to something supernatural. This led Timon the Phliasian to 
 write,— 
 
 To catch applause, Pythagoras affects 
 A solemn air and grandeur of expression. 
 
 But Numa feigned that some goddess or mountain nymp** 
 favoured him with her private regards (as we have already ob¬ 
 served), and that he had moreover frequent conversation* 
 with the Muses. To the latter he ascribed most of his revela¬ 
 tions; and there was one in particular that he called Taciia , as 
 much as to say, the Muse of silence* whom he taught the Ro¬ 
 mans to distinguish with their veneration. By this, too, he 
 seemed to show his knowledge and approbation of the Pytha¬ 
 gorean precept of silence. 
 
 His regulations concerning images seem likewise to have 
 some relation to the doctrine of Pythagoras, who was of opi 
 nion, that the First Cause was not an object of sense, nor lia¬ 
 ble to passion, but invisible, incorruptible, and discernible 
 only by the mind. Thus Numa forbade the Romans to re¬ 
 present the Deity in the form either of man or beast. Nor 
 
 * The common reading of the text is, otcv <ria7nik»v » vtuv. The word nut 
 signifies young; but it should undoubtedly be read muv, silent, mute , not 
 only from the analogy of the sense, and the conjecture of Stephens, but or 
 the authority of a manuscript. In the city of Erythrse there was a temple 
 of Minerva, where the priestess was called Hesychia , that is, the composed , 
 the silent. 
 
142 
 
 NUMA. 
 
 was there among them formerly any image or statue of the 
 Divine Being. During the first hundred and seventy years 
 they built temples, indeed, and other sacred domes, but placed 
 in them no figure of any kind, persuaded that it is impious to 
 represent things divine by what is perishable, and that we 
 can have no conception of God but by the understanding. 
 His sacrifices, too, resembled the Pythagorean worship; for 
 they were without any effusion of blood, consisting chiefly of 
 flour, libations of wine, and other very simple and unexpen- 
 sive things. 
 
 To these arguments other circumstances are added, to prove 
 that these two great men were acquainted with each other; 
 one of which is, that Pythagoras was enrolled a citizen of 
 Rome. This account we have in an address to Antenor from 
 Epicharmus, a writer of comedy, and a very ancient author, 
 who was himself of the school of Pythagoras.* * * § Another is, 
 that Numa having four sons,t called one of them Mamercus, 
 after the name of a son of Pythagoras. From him, too, they 
 tell us, the JEmilian family is descended, which is one of the 
 noblest in Rome; the king having given him the surname of 
 JEmilius, on account of his graceful and engaging manner of 
 speaking. And I have myself been informed by several per¬ 
 sons in Rome, that the Romans being commanded by the ora¬ 
 cle to erect two statues, % one to the wisest, and the other to 
 the bravest of the Grecians, setup in brass the figures of Py¬ 
 thagoras and Alcibiades. But as these matters are very dubi¬ 
 ous, to support or refute them farther would look like the 
 juvenile affectation of dispute. 
 
 To Numa is attributed the institution of that high order of 
 priests, called Pontlficts §, over which he is said to have pre 
 
 * As YluSdLyzpiw ficnpifins fAmyjnnMt does not necessarily signify scholar to 
 Pythagoras , we have rendered it of the school of Pythagoras , or a Pythago 
 rean, to avoid involving Plutarch in a glaring anachronism. According to 
 the Marmora Oxon. Epicharmus flourished in the year before Christ 472; 
 and it is certain it must have been about that time, because he was at the 
 court of Hiero. 
 
 -j* Some writers, to countenance the vanity of certain noble families in 
 Home, in deducing their genealogy from Numa, have given that prince 
 four sons. But the common opinion is that he had only one daughter, nam« 
 ed Pompilia. The iEmilii were one of the most considerable families in 
 Rome, and branched into the Lepidi, the Pauli, and the Papi. The word 
 JLimuluSj or JEmylus , in Greek, signifies gentle , graceful. 
 
 t Pliny tells us (1. xxxiv. c. 5,) it was in the time of their war with the 
 Samnites that the Romans were ordered to set up these statues; that they 
 were accordingly placed in the comuium , and that they remained there till 
 the dictatorship of Sylla. The oracle, by this direction, probably intimated, 
 that the Romans, if they desired to be victorious, should imitate the wisdom 
 and valour of the Greeks. 
 
 § Numa created four, who were all patricians. But, in the year of Rome, 
 
NUMA. 
 
 143 
 
 sided himself. Some say they were called Pontifices , as em¬ 
 ployed in the service of those powerful gods that govern th e 
 world; for potens in the Roman language signifies- powerful. 
 Others, from their being ordered by the lawgiver to perform 
 such secret offices as were in their power, and standing excused 
 when there was some great impediment. But most writers 
 assign a ridiculous reason for the term, as if they were called 
 Pontifices from their offering sacrifices upon the bridge , which 
 the Latins call pontem , such kind of ceremonies it seems being 
 looked upon as the most sacred, and of greatest antiquity. 
 These priests, too, are said to have been commissioned to 
 keep the bridges in repair, as one of the most indispensable 
 parts of their holy office. For the Romans considered it as 
 an execrable impiety to demolish the wooden bridge; which, 
 we are told, was built without iron, and put together with 
 pins of wood only, by the direction of some oracle. The 
 stone bridge was built many ages after, when iEmilius was 
 quaestor. Some, however, inform us, that the wooden bridge 
 was not constructed in the time of Numa, having the last hand 
 put to it by Ancus Marcius, who was grandson to Numa by 
 nis daughter. 
 
 The pontifex maximus , chief of these priests, is interpreter 
 ;>f all sacred rites, or rather a superintendent of religion, hav¬ 
 ing the care not only of public sacrifices, but even of private 
 /ites and offerings, forbidding the people to depart from the 
 stated ceremonies, and teaching them how to honour and pro¬ 
 pitiate the gods. He had also the inspection of the holy vir¬ 
 gins called Vestals . For to Numa is inscribed the sacred es¬ 
 tablishment of the vestal virgins, and the whole service with 
 respect to the> perpetual fire, which they watch continually. 
 This office seems appropriated to them, either because fire, 
 which is of a pure and incorruptible nature, should be looked 
 after by persons untouched and undefiled, or else because vir¬ 
 ginity, like fire, is barren and unfruitful. Agreeably to this 
 last reason, at the places in Greece, where the sacred fire is 
 preserved unextinguished, as at Delphi and Athens, not vir 
 gins, but widows past child-bearing, have the charge of it. 
 If it happens by any accident to be put out, as the sacred lamp 
 is said to have been at Athens, under the tyranny of Aristion ;* 
 
 453 or 454, four plebeians were added to the number. The king* himself is 
 here asserted to have been the chief of them; or pontifex maximus, though 
 Livy attributes that honour to another person of the same name, viz. Numr 
 Marcius, the son of Marcius, one of the senators. It seems, however, no; 
 improbable, that Numa, who was of so religious a turn, reserved the chiei 
 dignity in the priesthood to himself, as kings had done in the first ages of 
 the world, and as the emperors of Rome did afterwards. 
 
 * This Aristion held out a long time against Sylla, who besieged and tool; 
 
144 
 
 NUMA, 
 
 at Delphi when the temple was burnt by the Medes; and a 
 Rome, in the Mithridatie war, as also in the civil war,* when 
 not only the fire w~as extinguished, but the altar overturned 
 it is not to be lighted again from another fire, but new fire is ta 
 be gained by drawing a pure and unpolluted flame from the 
 sunbeams. They kindle it generally with concave vessels oj 
 brass, formed by the conic section of a rectangled triangle, 
 whose lines from the circumference meet in one central point. 
 This being placed against the sun, causes its rays to converge 
 in the centre, which by reflection, acquiring the force and ac 
 tivity of fire, rarefy the air, and immediately kindle such light 
 and dry matter as they think fit to apply, t Some are of opin¬ 
 ion, that the sacred virgins have the care of nothing but the 
 perpetual fire. But others say they have some private rites 
 besides, kept from the sight of all but their own body, concern¬ 
 ing which, I have delivered, in the life of Camillus, as much 
 as it was proper to inquire into or declare. 
 
 It is reported that at first only two virgins were consecrated 
 by Numa, whose names were Geganiaand Verania; afterwards 
 two others, Canuleia and Tarpeia; to whom Servius added two 
 more; and that number has continued to this time. The vestals 
 were obliged by the king to preserve their virginity for thirty 
 years. The first ten years they spent in learning their office; 
 the next ten in putting in practice what they had learned; and 
 the third period in the instructing of others. At the conclu¬ 
 sion of this time, such as chose it had liberty to marry, and 
 quitting their sacred employment, to take up some other. 
 However, we have account of but very few that accepted this 
 indulgence, and those did not prosper. They generally be¬ 
 came a prey to repentance and regret, from whence the rest, 
 inspired with a religious feai:, were willing to end their lives 
 under the same institution. 
 
 The king honoured them with great privileges, such as pow¬ 
 er to make a will during their father’s life, and to transact their 
 other affairs without a guardian, like the mothers of three 
 
 Athens in the time of the Mithridatie war. Aristion himself committed in¬ 
 numerable outrages in the city, and was at last the cause of its being sacked 
 and plundered. As for the sacred fire, it was kept in the temple of Mi¬ 
 nerva. 
 
 * Livy tells us, (1. 86.) that towards the conclusion of the civil war be¬ 
 tween Sylla and Marius, Mutius Scsevola, the pontiff, was killed at the en¬ 
 trance of the temple of Vesta; but we do not find that the sacred fire was 
 extinguished. And even when that temple was burnt, towards the end of 
 the first Punic war, L. Cecilius Metellus, then pontiff, rushed through the 
 flames, and brought off* the Palladium , and other sacred tilings, though with 
 the loss of his sight. 
 
 f Burning glasses are invented by Archimedes, who flourished 500 year* 
 after Numa. 
 
NUMA. 
 
 145 
 
 children now. When they went abroad, they had the fasces 
 carried before them;* * * § and if, by accident, they met a person 
 led to execution, his life was granted him. But the vestal was 
 to make oatht that it was by chance she met him, and not by 
 design. It was death to go under the chair in which they were 
 carried. 
 
 For smaller offences these virgins were punished with 
 stripes; and sometimes the pontifex maximus gave them the dis 
 cipline naked, in some dark place, and under the cover of a 
 veil; bat she that broke her vow of chastity was buried alive 
 by the Colline gate. There, within the walls, is raised a little 
 mount of earth, called in Latin Agger: under which is prepar¬ 
 ed a small cell, with steps to descend to it. In this are plac¬ 
 ed a bed, a lighted lamp, and some slight provisions, such as 
 bread, water, milk, and oil, as they thought it impious to take 
 off a person consecrated with the most awful ceremonies, by 
 such a death as that of famine. J The criminal is carried to 
 punishment, through the Forum , in a litter well covered with¬ 
 out, and bound up in such a manner that her cries can not be 
 heard. The people silently make way for the litter, and follow 
 it with marks of extreme sorrow and dejection. There is no 
 spectacle more dreadful than this, nor any day which the city 
 passes in a more melancholy manner. When the litter comes 
 to the place appointed, the officers loose the cords; the high- 
 priest, with hands lifted up towards heaven, offers up some 
 private prayers just before the fatal minute, then takes out the 
 prisoner, who is covered with a veil, and places her upon the 
 steps which lead down to the cell: after this, he retires with 
 the rest of the priests, and when she is gone down, the steps 
 are taken away, and the cell is covered with earth; so that the 
 place is made level with the rest of the mount. Thus were the 
 vestals punished that preserved not their chastity. 
 
 It is also said that Numa built the temple of Vesta where the 
 perpetual fire was to be kept,§ in an orbicular form, not intend¬ 
 ing to represent the figure of the earth, as if that was meant by 
 Vesta , but file frame of the universe, in the centre of which 
 
 * This honour was not conferred upon them by Numa, but by the trium¬ 
 virate in the year of Rome 712. 
 
 f Neither a vestal nor a priest of Jupiter was obliged to take an oath. 
 They were believed without that solemnity. 
 
 t There seems to be something improbable and inconsistent in this. Of 
 what use could provisions be to the vestal, who, when the grave was closed 
 upon her, must expire through want of air? Or, if she could make use of 
 those provisions, was she not at last to die by famine ? Perhaps what Plu¬ 
 tarch here calls provisions, were materials for some sacrifice. 
 
 § Dionysius of Halicarnassus (1. ii.) is of opinion, and probably he is right, 
 that Numa did build the temple of Vesta in a round fonr, to represent thj 
 figure of the earth; for by Vesta they meant the earth. 
 
 Vol. I. -X 14* 
 
L46 
 
 NUMA. 
 
 the Pythagoreans place the element of fire,* and give it the 
 name of Vesta and Unity. The earth they suppose not to be 
 without motion, nor situated in the centre of the world, but to 
 make its revolution round the sphere of fire, being neither one 
 of the most valuable nor principal parts of the great machine 
 Plato, too, in his old age, is reported to have been of the same 
 opinion, assigning the earth a different situation from the cen¬ 
 tre, and leaving that, as the place of honour, to a nobler ele¬ 
 ment. 
 
 The Ponti/ices were, moreover, to prescribe the form of fu¬ 
 neral rites to such as consulted them. Numa himself taught 
 them to look upon the last offices to the dead as no pollution. 
 He instructed them to pay all due honour to the infernal gods, 
 as receiving the most excellent part of us, and more particu¬ 
 larly to venerate the goddess Libitina , as he called her, who 
 presides over funeral solemnities; whether he meant by her 
 Proserpine , or rather Venus,t as some of the most learned Ro¬ 
 mans suppose; not improperly ascribing to the same divine 
 power the care of our birth and of our death. 
 
 He himself likewise fixed the time of mourning, according 
 to the different ages of the deceased. He allowed none for a 
 child that died under three years of age; and for one older the 
 mourning was only to last as many months as he lived years, 
 provided those were not more than ten. The longest mourn¬ 
 ing was not to continue above ten months, after which space 
 widows were permitted to marry again; but she that took ano¬ 
 ther husband before that term was out, was obliged, by his 
 decree, to sacrifice a cow with calf. J 
 
 * That this was the opinion of Philolaiis and other Pythagoreans is well 
 known; but Diogenes Laertius tells us, that Pythagoras himself held the 
 earth to be the centre. 
 
 f This Venus Libitina was the same with Proserpine. She was called at 
 Delphi Venus Epitumbia . Pluto was the Jupiter of the shades below; and 
 there they had their Mercury too. 
 
 $ Such an unnatural sacrifice was intended to deter the widows from mar¬ 
 rying again before the expiration of their mourning. Romulus’s year con¬ 
 sisting but of ten months, when Numa afterwards added two months more, 
 he did not alter the time he had before settled for mourning; and therefore; 
 though, after that time, we often meet with Ludus annus , or a year’s 
 mourning, we must take it only for the old year of Romulus. 
 
 The ordinary colour to express their grief, used alike by both sexes, was 
 black without trimmings; but after the establishment of the empire, when 
 abundance of colours came in fashion, the old primitive white grew so much 
 into contempt,.that it became peculiar to the women for their mourning.— 
 Vide Plut. Quaest. Horn. 
 
 There were several accidents which often occasioned the concluding of a 
 public mourning, or suspension of a private one, before the fixed time; suen 
 as the dedication of a temple, the solemnity of public games or festivals, the 
 solemn lustration performed by the censor, and the discharging of a vovv 
 
NUMA. 
 
 147 
 
 Numa instituted several other sacred orders; two of which 
 I shall mention, the Salii * and Feciales,\ which afford particu¬ 
 lar proofs of his piety. The Feciales, who were like the Ireno- 
 phylakes, or guardians of the peace, among the Greeks, had, I 
 believe, a name expressive of their office; for they were to act 
 and mediate between the two parties, to decide their differ¬ 
 ences by reason, and not suffer them to go to war till all hopes 
 of justice were lost. The Greeks call such a peace Irene, as puts 
 an end to strife, not by mutual violence, but in a rational way. 
 In like manner, the feciales or, heralds, were often despatched 
 to such nations as had injured the Romans, to persuade them 
 to entertain more equitable sentiments; if they rejected their 
 application, they called the gods to witness, with imprecations 
 against themselves and their country, if their cause was not 
 just; and so they declared war. But if the Feciales refused 
 their sanction, it was not lawful for any Roman soldier, nor 
 even for the king himself, to begin hostilities. War was to 
 commence with their approbation, as the proper judges whe¬ 
 ther it was just, and then the supreme magistrate was to de¬ 
 liberate concerning the proper means of carrying it on. The 
 great misfortunes which befel the city from the Gauls, are said 
 to have proceeded from the violation of these sacred rites; for 
 when those barbarians were besieging Clusium, Fabius Am- 
 bustus was sent ambassador to their camp, with proposals of 
 peace in favour of the besieged. But receiving a harsh an¬ 
 swer, he thought himself released from his character of ambas¬ 
 sador, and rashly taking up arms for the Clusians, challenged 
 the bravest man in the Gaulish army. He proved victorious, 
 indeed, in the combat, for he killed his adversary, and carri¬ 
 ed off his spoils; but the Gauls having discovered who he was, 
 sent a herald to Rome to accuse Fabius of bearing arms 
 against them, contrary to treaties and good faith, and without 
 a declaration of war. Upon this the feciales exhorted the sen¬ 
 ate to deliver him up to the Gauls; but he applied to the peo¬ 
 ple; and being a favourite with them, was screened from the 
 
 made by a magistrate or general. They likewise put orF their mourning ha¬ 
 bit w hen a father, brother, or son, returned from captivity, or when some of 
 the family were advanced to a considerable employment. 
 
 * The Salii were the guardians of the Jlncilia , or tvVelve shields hung up 
 in the temple of Mars. They took their name from their dancing in the cele¬ 
 bration of an annual festival instituted in memory of a miraculous shield 
 which Numa pretended fell down from heaven. 
 
 f Dionysius of Halicarnassus finds them among the aborigines; and Numa 
 is said to have borrowed the institution from the people of Latium. He ap¬ 
 pointed twenty feciales , chosen out of the most eminent families in Rome, 
 and settled them in a college. The pater patratiis, who made peace or de¬ 
 nounced war, was probably one of their body selected for that purpose, be¬ 
 cause he had both a father and a son alive.— Liv. 1. i, c. 24. 
 
148 
 
 NUMA. 
 
 sentence, fcoon after this the Gauls marched to Rome, and 
 sacked the whole city, except the Capitol; as we have related 
 it large in the life of Camillus. 
 
 The order of priests called Salii, is said to have keen insti 
 toted on this occasion. In the eighth year of Numa’s reign a 
 pestilence prevailed in Italy; Rome also felt its ravages. 
 While the people were greatly dejected, we are told that a 
 brazen buckler fell from heaven into the hands of Numa. Of 
 this he gave a very wonderful account, received from Egeria 
 and the Muses; that the buckler was sent down for the pre¬ 
 servation of the city, and should be kept with great care; that 
 eleven others should be made as like it as possible in size and 
 fashion, in order, that if any person were disposed to steal it, 
 he might not be able to distinguish that which fell from heaven 
 from the rest. He farther declared, that the place, and the 
 meadows about it, where he frequently conversed with the 
 Muses, should be consecrated to those divinities; and that the 
 spring which watered the ground, should be sacred to the use 
 cf the vestal virgins, daily to sprinkle and purify their temple. 
 The immediate cessation of the pestilence is said to have con¬ 
 firmed the truth of this account. Numa then showed the 
 buckler to the artists, and commanded them to exert all their 
 skill for an exact resemblance. They all declined the attempt, 
 except Yeturius Mamurius, who was so successful in the imi¬ 
 tation, and made the other eleven so like it, that not even 
 Numa himself could distinguish them. He gave these buck¬ 
 lers in charge to the Salii; who did not receive their name, 
 as some pretend, from Salius of Samothrace, or Mantinea, 
 that taught the way of dancing in arms, but rather from the 
 subsultive dance itself, which they lead up along the streets, 
 when in the month of March they carry the sacred bucklers 
 through the city. On that occasion, they are habited in pur- 
 
 E le vests, girt with broad belts of brass; they wear also brazen 
 elmets, and carry short swords, with which they strike upon 
 the bucklers, and to those sounds they keep time with their 
 feet. They move in an agreeable manner, performing certain 
 involutions and evolutions in a quick measure, with vigour, 
 agility and ease. 
 
 These bucklers are called Ancilia , from the form of them. 
 For they are neither circular, nor yet, like the pelta , semicir¬ 
 cular, but fashioned in two crooked indented lines, the extre¬ 
 mities of which meeting close, form a curve, in Greek, ancy~ 
 Ion. Or else they may be so named from the ancon , or bend 
 of the arm , on which they are carried. This account of the 
 matter we have from Juba, who is very desirous to derive the 
 term from the Greek. But if we must have an etymology 
 from lhat language, it may be taken from their descending 
 
NUMA. 
 
 149 
 
 unekathen , from on high; or from akesis , their healing of the 
 sick; or from auchmon lusis , their putting an end to the 
 drought; or, lastly, from anaschesis , deliverance from calami¬ 
 ties; for which reason also, Castor and Pollux were by the 
 Athenians called anakes. The reward Mamurius had for his 
 art, was, we are told, an ode, which the Salians sung in me¬ 
 mory of him, along with the Pyrrhic dance. Some, however, 
 say, it was not Veturius Mamurius , who was celebrated in that 
 composition, but vetus memoria , the ancient remembrance of the 
 thing. 
 
 After Numa had instituted these several orders of priests, 
 he erected a royal palace, called Regia , near the temple of 
 Vesta; and there he passed most of his time, either in per¬ 
 forming some sacred function, or instructing the priests, or, 
 at least, in conversing with them on some divine subject. He 
 had also another house upon the Quirinal mount, the situation 1 , 
 of which they still show us. In all public ceremonies and 
 processions of the priests, a herald went before, who gave no¬ 
 tice to the people to keep holiday; for, as they tell us, the 
 Pythagoreans would not suffer their disciples to pay any ho¬ 
 mage or worship to the gods in a cursory manner, but requir¬ 
 ed them to come prepared for it by meditation at home; so 
 Numa was of opinion, that his citizens should neither see nor 
 hear any religious service m a slight or careless way, but, dis¬ 
 engaged from other affairs, bring with them that attention, 
 which an object of such importance required. The streets 
 and ways, on such occasions, were cleared of clamour, and all 
 manner of noise which attends manual labour, that the solem¬ 
 nities might not be disturbed. Some vestiges of this still re¬ 
 main; for when the consul is employed either in augury or 
 sacrificing, they call out to the people, Hoc age , Mind this; and 
 thus admonished them to be orderly and attentive. 
 
 Many other of his institutions resemble those of the Pytha ¬ 
 goreans. For as these had precepts, which enjoined not to 
 sit upon a bushel;* * * § not to stir the fire with a sword;t not to 
 turn back upon a journey to offer an odd number to the ce¬ 
 lestial gods, and an even one to the terrestrial ;§ the sense of 
 
 * That is, not to give up ourselves to idleness. 
 
 j- Not to irritate him who is already angry. 
 
 t In another place Plutarch gives this precept thus, Never return from iht 
 borders But the sense is the same; Die like a man; do not long aftei lift, 
 when b is departing, or wish to be young again. 
 
 § The Pagans looked on an odd number as the more perfect, and the sym¬ 
 bol of concord, because it can not be divided into two equal parts, as the 
 even number may, which is, therefore, the symbol of division. This pre¬ 
 judice was not only the reason why the first month was consecrated to the 
 celestial, and the second to the terrestrial deities; but gave birth to a thou- 
 
150 
 
 NUMA. 
 
 which precepts is hid from the vulgar; so some of Numa’s 
 have a concealed meaning; as, not to offer to the gods wm 
 proceeding from a vine unpruned; nor to sacrifice withou 
 meal;* to turn round when you worship:t and to sit down 
 when you have worshipped. The two first precepts seem to 
 recommend agriculture as a part of religion. And the turn¬ 
 ing round in adoration, is said to represent the circular motion 
 of the world. But I rather think, that as the temples opened 
 towards the east, such as entered them necessarily turning 
 their backs upon the rising sun, made a half turn to that quar 
 ter, in honour of the god of day, and then completed, the cir¬ 
 cle, as well as their devotions, with their faces towards the 
 god of the temple; unless, perhaps, this change of posture may 
 have an enigmatical meaning, like the Egyptian wheels, ad¬ 
 monishing us of the instability of every thing human, and pre¬ 
 paring us to acquiesce, and rest satisfied, with whatever turns 
 and changes the Divine Being allots us. As for sitting down 
 after an act of religion, they tell us it was intended as an omen 
 of success in prayer, and of lasting happiness afterwards. 
 They add, that as actions are divided by intervals of rest, so, 
 when one business was over, they sat down in the presence of 
 the gods, that under their auspicious conduct they might begin 
 another. Nor is this repugnant to what has been already ad¬ 
 vanced; since the lawgiver wanted to accustom us to address 
 the deity, not in the midst of business or hurry, but when we 
 have time and leisure to do it as we ought. 
 
 By this sort of religious discipline, the people became so 
 tractable, and were impressed with such a veneration of Nu¬ 
 ma’s power, that they admitted many improbable, and even 
 fabulous tales, and thought nothing incredible or impossible 
 which he undertook. Thus he is said to have invited many 
 of the citizens to his table, J where he took care the vessels 
 should be mean, and the provisions plain and inelegant; but 
 after they were seated, he told them, the goddess with whom 
 he used to converse, was coming to visit him, when, on a sud¬ 
 den, the room was supplied with the most costly vessels, and 
 
 sand superstitious practices, which, in some countries, are still kept up by 
 those whom reason and religion ought to have undeceived. 
 
 * The principal intention of tills precept might be to wean them from 
 crifices of blood, and to bring them to offer only cakes and figures of animals 
 made of paste. 
 
 j- Probably to represent the immensity of the godhead. 
 
 i Dyonisius tells us, that Numa showed these Romans all the rooms of Ills 
 palace in the morning, meanly furnished, and without any signs of a great en¬ 
 tertainment; that he kept them with him great part of the day; and when 
 they returned to sup with him by invitation in the evening, they found every 
 tiling surprisingly magnificent. It is likely Numa imputed the change to 
 His invisible friend. 
 
NUMA. 
 
 151 
 
 the table with the most magnificent entertainment. But no¬ 
 thing can be imagined more absurd, than what is related of 
 his conversation with Jupiter. The story goes, that when 
 Mount Aventine was not enclosed within the walls, nor yet in¬ 
 habited, but abounded with flowing springs and shady groves, 
 it was frequented by two demi-gods, Picus and Faunus. These, 
 in other respects, were like the Satyrs, or the race of Titans;* 
 but in the wonderful feats they performed by their skill ir 
 pharmacy and magic, more resembled the Idsei Dactyli\ (as the 
 Greeks call them;) and thus provided, they roamed about 
 Italy. They tell us, that Numa, having mixed the fountain 
 of which they used to drink with wine and honey, surprised 
 and caught them. Upon this, they turned themselves into 
 many forms, and quitting their natural figure, assumed strange 
 and horrible appearances. But when they found they could 
 not break or escape from the bond that held them, they ac¬ 
 quainted him with many secrets of futurity, and taught him 
 a charm for thunder and lightning, composed of onions, hair, 
 and pilchards, which is used to this day. Others say, these 
 demi-gods did not communicate the charm, but that by the 
 force of magic they brought down Jupiter from heaven. The 
 god, resenting this at Numa’s hands, ordered the charm to con 
 sist of heads. Of onions, replied Numa. No, human .— Hairs , 
 said Numa, desirous to fence against the dreadful injunction, 
 and interrupting the god. Living , said Jupiter; pilchards , said 
 Numa. He was instructed, it seems, by Egeria, how to 
 manage the matter. Jupiter went away propitious, in Greek 
 ileos , whence the place was called Iliciam;% and so the charm 
 was effected. These things, fabulous and ridiculous as they 
 are, show how superstition, confirmed by custom, operated 
 upon the minds of the people. As for Numa himself, he 
 placed his confidence so entirely in God, that when one brought 
 
 * Some manuscripts give us navav instead of T navov, which is a better 
 reading, because Picus and Faunus were horned Sylvan deities, like Pan. 
 
 f Diodorus tells us from Ephorus, the Idsei Dactyli were originally from 
 Mount Ida, in Phrygia, from whence they passed into Europe with king 
 Mines. They settled first in Samothrace, where they taught the inhabitants 
 religious rites. Orpheus is thought to have been their disciple; and the first 
 that carried a form of worship over into Greece. The Dactyli are likewise 
 said to have found out the use of fire, and to have discovered the nature of 
 in>n and brass to the inhabitants of the country adjoining to mount Berecyn- 
 th is, and to have taught them the way of working them. For this, and 
 mLny other useful discoveries, they were, after their death, worshipped as 
 gods. 
 
 * This is Plutarch’s mistake. Ovid informs us (Fast. 1. iii.) that Jupiter was 
 called Elicius from elicere , to draw out , because Jupiter was drawn out of 
 Ueaven on this occasion. 
 
162 
 
 NUMA. 
 
 him word the enemy was coming, he only smiled, saying 
 “ And 1 am sacrificing.” 
 
 He is recorded to have been the first that built temples to 
 Fides ,* or Faith, and to Terminus ,-t and he taught the Romans 
 to swear by faith , as the greatest of oaths; which they still 
 continue to make use of. In our times they sacrifice animals 
 in the fields, both on public and private occasions, to Terminus } 
 as the god of boundaries; but formerly the offering was an in¬ 
 animate one; for Numa argued that there should be no effu¬ 
 sion of blood in the rites of a god, who is the witness of jus¬ 
 tice, and guardian of peace. It is indeed certain, that Numa 
 was the first that marked out the bounds of the Roman terri¬ 
 tory; Romulus being unwilling, by measuring out his own, to 
 show how much he had encroached upon the neighbouring 
 countries; for bounds, if preserved, are barriers against law¬ 
 less power; if violated, they are evidences of injustice. The 
 territory of the cky was by no means extensive at first, but 
 Romulus added to it a considerable district gained by the 
 sword. All this Numa divided among the indigent citizens, 
 that poverty might not drive them to rapine; and as he turn¬ 
 ed the application of the people to agriculture, their temper'was 
 subdued together with the ground. For no occupation im- 
 
 f dants so speedy and so effectual a love of peace as a country 
 ife, where there remains indeed courage and bravery sufficient 
 to defend their property, but the temptations to injustice and 
 avarice are removed. Numa, therefore, introduced among 
 his subjects an attachment to husbandry, as a charm of peace; 
 and contriving a business for them which would rather form 
 their manners to simplicity, than raise them to opulence, he 
 divided the country into several portions, which he called pagi, 
 or boroughs, and appointed over each of them a governor or 
 overseer. Sometimes he also inspected them himself; and 
 judging of the disposition of the people by the condition of 
 
 * This was intended to make the Romans pay as much regard to their 
 word, as to a contract in writing. And so excellent, in fact, were their 
 principles, that Polybius gives the Romans of his time this honourable testi¬ 
 mony:— u They most inviolably keep their word, without being obliged to 
 it by bail, witness, or promise; whereas, ten securities, twenty promises, 
 and as many witnesses, can not hinder the faithless Greeks from attempting 
 to deceive and disappoint you.” No wonder, then, that so virtuous a peo¬ 
 ple w T ere victorious over those that were become thus degenerate and dis- 
 honest. 
 
 The Dii Termini were represented by stones, which Numa caused to be 
 placed on the borders of the Roman state, and of each man’s private lands. 
 In honour of these deities, he instituted a festival called Terminalia , which 
 was annually celebrated on the 22d or 23d of February. To remove the Dii 
 Termini was deemed a sacrilege of so heinous a nature, that any man might 
 kill, with impunity, the transgressor. 
 
NUMA, 
 
 1 b c S 
 
 their farms, some he advanced to posts of honour and trust; 
 and, on the other hand, he reprimanded and endeavoured to 
 reform the negligent and the idle.* 
 
 But the most admired of all his institutions, is his distribu¬ 
 tion of the citizens into companies, according to their arts 
 und trades. For the city consisting, as we have observed, 
 of two nations, or rather factions, who were by no means will 
 ing to unite, or to blot out the remembrance of their original 
 difference, but maintained perpetual contests and party quar¬ 
 rels, he took the same method with them as is used to incor¬ 
 porate hard and solid bodies; which, while entire, will not 
 mix at all, but when reduced to powder, unite with ease. To 
 attain his purpose, he divided, as I said, the whole multitude 
 into small bodies, who gaining new distinctions, lost by de¬ 
 grees the great and original one, in consequence of their be¬ 
 ing thus broken into so many parts. This distribution was 
 made according to the several arts or trades, of musicians, 
 goldsmiths, masons, dyers, shoemakers, tanners, braziers, and 
 potters. He collected the other artificers also into companies, 
 who had their respective halls, courts, and religious ceremo¬ 
 nies, peculiar to each society. By these means he first took 
 away the distinction of Sabines and Romans, subjects of Ta- 
 tius, and subjects of Romulus, both name and thing; the very 
 separation into parts mixing and incorporating the whole to 
 gether. 
 
 He is celebrated also, in his political capacity, for correct¬ 
 ing the law which empowered fathers to sell their children,t 
 excepting such as married by their father’s command or con¬ 
 sent; for he reckoned it a great hardship, that a woman should 
 marry a man as free, and then live with him as a slave. 
 
 He attempted the reformation of the calendar too, which he 
 executed with some degree of skill, though not with absolute 
 exactness. In the reign of Romulus, it had neither measure 
 nor order, some months consisting of fewer than twenty days,f 
 
 * To neglect the cultivation of a farm, was considered amongst the Ro¬ 
 mani as a censorium probrum , a fault that merited the chastisement of the 
 censor. 
 
 ■(■ Romulus had allowed fathers greater power over their children than 
 masters had over their slaves. For 2 master could sell his slave but once, 
 whereas a father could sell his son t iree times, let him be of what age or 
 condition soever. 
 
 $ But Macrobius tells us, (Satumal. 1. i. c. 12,) that Romulus settled the 
 number of days with more equality, allotting to March, May, Quintilis, and 
 October, one and thirty days each; to April, June, Sextilis, November and 
 December, thirty; making up in all three hundred and four days. Numa 
 was better acquainted with the celestial motions; and therefore, in the first 
 place, added the two months of January and February. By the way, it is 
 probable the reader will think, that neither Romulus, nor any other man, 
 
 Vor.. 1 .-Y 15 
 
154 
 
 NUMA 
 
 while some were stretched to thirty-five, and others even to 
 more. They had no idea of the difference between the an 
 nual coarse of the sun and that of the moon, and only laid 
 down this position, that the year consisted of three hundred 
 and sixty days. Numa, then, observing that there was a dif¬ 
 ference of eleven days, three hundrea and fifty-four days 
 making up the lunar year, and three hundred and sixty-five 
 the solar, doubled those eleven days, and inserted them as an 
 intercalary month, after that of February, every other year. 
 This additional month was called by the Romans Mercedlnus. 
 But this amendment of the irregularity afterwards required a 
 farther amendment. He likewise altered the order of the 
 months, making March the third, which was the first; January 
 first, which was the eleventh of Romulus, and February the 
 second, which was the twelfth and last. Many, however, 
 assert, that the two months of January and February were 
 added by Numa, whereas, before they had reckoned but ten 
 months in the year, as some barbarous nations had but three; 
 and among the Greeks, the Arcadians four, and the Acarna- 
 nians six. The Egyptian year, they tell us, at first consisted 
 only of one month, afterwards of four. And therefore, though 
 they inhabit a new country, they seem to be a very ancient 
 people, and reckon in their chronology an incredible number 
 of years, because they account months for years. * 
 
 could be so ignorant as to make the lunar year consist of three hundred and 
 four days; and that the Romans reckoned by lunar months, and consequent¬ 
 ly by the lunar year, originally, is plain from their calends, nones, and ides. 
 To compose these two months, he added fifty days to the three hundred and 
 forr, in order to make them answer to the course of the moon. Besides this, 
 he observed the difference between the solar and the lunar course to be ele¬ 
 ven days; and, to remedy the inequality, he doubled those days after every 
 two years, adding an interstitial month after February; which Plutarch here 
 calls Mercedinusy and, in tire file of Julius Caesar, Mercedonius. Festus 
 speaks of certain days, which he calls Dies Mercedonii, because they were 
 appointed for the payment of workmen and domestics, which is all we know 
 of the word. As Numa was sensible that the solar year consisted of three 
 hundred and sixty-five days and six hours, and that the six hours made a 
 whole day in four years, he commanded, that the month Mercedinus, after 
 every four years, should consist of twenty-three days; but the care of these 
 intercalations being left to the priests, they put in or left out the intercalary 
 day or month as they fancied it lucky or unlucky; and, by that means, crea¬ 
 ted such a confusion, that the festivals came, in process of time, to be kept 
 at a season quite contrary to what they had been formerly. The Roman 
 calendar had gained near three months in the days of Julius Caesar, and 
 therefore wanted a great reformation again. 
 
 * To suppose the Egyptians reckoned months for years, does indeed bring 
 their computation pretty near the truth, with respect to the then age of the 
 world; for they reckoned a succession of kings for the space of 36,000 years. 
 But that supposition would make the reigns of their kings unreasonably 
 short. Besides, Herodotus says, the Egyptians were the first that began to 
 
NUMA. 
 
 155 
 
 That the Roman year contained at first ten months only, 
 and not twelve, we have a proof in the name of the last; for 
 they still call it December, or the tenth month; and that March 
 was the first, is also evident, because the fifth from it was call¬ 
 ed Quintilis , the sixth Sextilis , and so the rest in their order. 
 If January and February had then been placed before March, 
 the month Quintilis would have been the fifth in name, but the 
 seventh in reckoning. Besides, it is reasonable to conclude, 
 that the month of March, dedicated by Romulus to the god 
 Mars , should stand first; and April second, which has its name 
 from Aphrodite or Venus , for in this month the women sacrifice 
 to that goddess, and bathe on the first of it, with crowns of 
 myrtle on their heads. Some however say, April derives not 
 its name from Aphrodite; but as the very sound of the term 
 seems to dictate, from aperire , to open , because the spring hav¬ 
 ing then attained its vigour, it opens and unfolds the blossoms 
 of plants. The next month, which is that of May, is so call¬ 
 ed from Maia , the mother of Mercury; for to him it is sacred. 
 June is so styled from the youthful season of the year. Some 
 again inform us, that these two months borrow their names 
 from the two ages, old and young; for the older men are called 
 majores , and the younger juniores. The succeeding months 
 were denominated according to their order, of fifth, sixth, 
 seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth. Afterwards Quintilis was called 
 July, in honour of Julius Caesar, who overcame Pompey; and 
 Sextilis August, from Augustus, the second emperor of Rome. 
 To the two following months Domitian gave his two names of 
 Germanicus and Domitianus , which lasted but a little while; for 
 when he was slain, they resumed their old names, September 
 and October. The two last were the only ones that all along 
 retained the original appellation which they had from their 
 order. February, which was either added or transposed by 
 Numa, is the month of purification; for so the term signifies; 
 and then rites are celebrated for the purifying of trees,* and 
 
 compute by years; and that they made the yea” consist of twelve months. 
 Their boasted antiquity must, therefore, be imputed to their stretching* the 
 fabulous part of their history too far back. As to Plutarch’s saying* that 
 Egypt was a new country, it is strang*e that such a notion could ever be en¬ 
 tertained by a man of his knowledge. 
 
 * Another reading has it, *rot; <pnoic tv&ytfxrt, instead of ao/c <purcjc: and 
 then the sense w : ll be, they sacrifice to the dead . Both have their authori¬ 
 ties: the common reading being supported by a passage in Ovid, who takes 
 notice that the 1 uperci purified the ground:— 
 
 Seda quia pelle Luperci 
 
 Omne solum lustrant. Lib. ii. Fast. 
 
 And the other which seems the better, rests upon the authority of Vane 
 
156 
 
 NU'MA. 
 
 procuring a blessing of their fruits; then also the feast of tlie 
 Lupercalia is held, whose ceremonies greatly resemble those ot 
 a lustration. January, the first month, is so named from Janus . 
 And Numa seems to me to have taken away the precedency 
 from March, which is denominated from the god of war, with 
 a design to show his preference of the political virtues to the 
 martial. For this Janus , in the most remote antiquity, whe¬ 
 ther-a demigod or a king, being remarkable for his political 
 abilities, and his cultivation of society, reclaimed men from 
 their rude and savage manners; he is therefore represented 
 with two faces, as having altered the former state of the world, 
 and given quite a new turn to life. He has also a temple at 
 Rome with two gates, which they call the gates of war. It is 
 the custom for this temple to stand open in the time of war, 
 and to be shut in time of peace. The latter was seldom the 
 case, as the empire has been generally engaged in war, on ac¬ 
 count of its great extent, and its having to contend with so 
 many surrounding barbarous nations. It has therefore been 
 shut only in the reign of Augustus Caesar,* when he had con 
 quered Antony; and before, in the consulate of Marcus Attili- 
 ust and Titus Manlius a little while; for a new war breaking 
 out, it was soon opened again. In Numa’s reign, however, it 
 was not opened for one day, but stood constantly shut during 
 the space of forty-three years, while uninterrupted peace reign¬ 
 ed in every quarter. Not only the people of Rome were soft' 
 ened and humanized by the justice and mildness of the king, 
 but even the circumjacent cities, breathing as it were the same 
 salutary and delightful air, began to change their behaviour. 
 Like the Romans, they became desirous of peace and good 
 laws, of cultivating the ground, educating their children in tran¬ 
 quillity, and paying their homage to the gods. Italy then was 
 taken up with festivals and sacrifices, games and entertain¬ 
 ments; the people, without any apprehensions of danger, mix¬ 
 ed in a friendly manner, and treated each other with mutual 
 hospitality; the love of virtue and justice, as from the source of 
 Numa’s wisdom, gently flowing upon all, and moving with 
 the composure of his heart. Even the hyperbolical expres¬ 
 and others, who mention an offering to the dead in the month of February. 
 —Ab deis inferis Februaris appellatus , quod tunc his parentctur. 
 
 * Augustus shut the temple of Janus three several times; one of which 
 was in the year of Rome 750, before the birth of our Saviour, according to 
 Isaiah’s prophecy, that all the world should be blest with peace, when the 
 Prince of Peace was bom. This temple was also shut by Vespasian after 
 his triumph over the Jews. 
 
 •f- Instead of Marcus we should read Caius Attilius. Titus Manlius, his 
 colleague, shut the temple of Janus at the conclusion of the first Punic war 
 
NUMA. 157 
 
 sions of the poets fall short of describing the happiness of 
 those days:— 
 
 Secure Arachne spreads her slender toils 
 O'er the broad buckler; eating rust consum’d 
 The vengeful swords and once far-gleaming spears; 
 
 No more the trump of war swells its hoarse throat. 
 
 Nor robs the eye-lids of their genial slumber.* 
 
 We have no account of either war or insurrection in the state 
 during Numa’s reign. Nay, he experienced neither enmity 
 nor envy; nor did ambition dictate either open or private at¬ 
 tempts against his crown. Whether it were the fear of the 
 gods, who took so pious a man under their protection, or re¬ 
 verence of his virtue, or the singular good fortune of his times, 
 that kept the manners of men pure and unsullied, he was an 
 illustrious instance of that truth, which Plato several ages after 
 ventured to deliver concerning government :—“ That the only 
 sure prospect of deliverance from the evils of life, will be, 
 when the Divine Providence shall so order it, that the regal 
 
 f )Ower, invested in a prince who has the sentiments of a phi- 
 osopher, shall render virtue triumphant over vice.” A man 
 of such wisdom is not only happy in himself, but contributes 
 by his instructions to the happiness of others. There is, in 
 truth, no need either of force or menaces to direct the multi¬ 
 tude; for when they see virtue exemplified in so glorious a 
 pattern as the life of their prince, they become wise of them¬ 
 selves, and endeavour, by friendship and unanimity, by a 
 strict regard to justice and temperance, to form themselves to 
 an innocent and happy life. This is the noblest end of govern¬ 
 ment; and he is most worthy of the royal seat who can regulate 
 the lives and dispositions of his subjects in such a manner 
 No man was more sensible of this than Numa. 
 
 As to his wives and children, there are great contradictions 
 among historians. For some say he had no wife but Tatia, 
 nor any child but one daughter named Pompilia. Others, 
 beside that daughter, give an account of four sons. Pompon, 
 Pinus, Calpus, and Mamercus; every one of which left an 
 honourable posterity—The Pomponii being descended from 
 Pompon, the Pinarii from Pinus, the Calpurnii from Calpus, 
 and the Mamercii from Mamercus. These were surnamed 
 Eeges , or kings, t But a third set of writers accuse the former 
 
 * Plutarch took this passage from some excellent verses of Bacchylidea 
 in praise of peace, given us by Stobaeus. 
 
 t Rex was the surname of the iEmilians and Marcians, but not of the Pom- 
 ponians, the Pinarians, or Mamercians. The Pinarii were descended from 
 a family who were priests of Hercules, and more ancient than the times of 
 Numa. 
 
 15* 
 
[58 
 
 NUMA. 
 
 of forging these genealogies from Numa, in order to ingratiate 
 themselves with particular families. And they tell us, that 
 Pompilia was not the daughter of Tatia, but of Lucretia, ano¬ 
 ther wife, whom he married after he ascended the throne. All 
 however agree, that Pompilia was married to Marcius, son 
 of that Marcius who persuaded Numa to accept the crown; 
 for he followed him to Rome, where he was enrolled a sena 
 tor, and after Numa’s death, was competitor with Tull us 
 Hostilius for the throne; but failing in the enterprise, he starv¬ 
 ed himself to death. His son Marcius, husband to Pompilia, 
 remained in Rome, and had a son named Ancus Marcius, 
 who reigned after Tullus Hostilius. This son is said to have 
 been but five years old at the death of Numa. 
 
 Numa was carried off by no sudden or acute distemper; but, 
 as Piso relates, wasted aw~ay insensibly with old age and a 
 gentle decline. He was some few years above eighty when 
 he died. 
 
 The neighbouring nations that were in friendship and alii 
 ance with Rome, strove to make the honours of his burial 
 equal to the happiness of his life, attending with crowns and 
 other public offerings. The Senators carried the bier, and the 
 ministers of the gods walked in procession. The rest of the 
 people, with the women and children, crowded to the funeral; 
 not as if they were attending the interment of an aged king, 
 but as if they had lost one of their beloved relations in the 
 bloom of life; for they followed it with tears and loud lamen¬ 
 tations. They did not burn the body,* because (as we are 
 told) he himself forbade it; but they made two stone coffins, 
 and buried them under the Janiculum; the one containing his 
 body, and the other the sacred books which he had written 
 in the same manner as the Grecian legislators wrote their ta¬ 
 bles of laws. 
 
 Numa had taken care, however, in his life time, to instruct 
 the priests in all that those books contained, and to impress 
 both the sense and practice on their memories. He then or¬ 
 dered them to be buried with him, persuaded that such myste- 
 
 * In the most ancient times they committed the bodies of the dead to the 
 ground, as appears from the history of the patriarchs. But the Egyptians, 
 from a vain desire of preserving their bodies from corruption after death, 
 had them embalmed; persons of condition with rich spices, and even the 
 poor had theirs preserved with salt. The Greeks, to obviate the inconve¬ 
 niences that might possibly happen from corruption, burnt the bodies of the 
 dead; but Pliny tells us, that Sylla was the first Roman whose body wa? 
 burnt. When paganism was abolished, the burning of dead bodies ceased 
 with it; and in the belief of the resurrection, Christians committed their 
 dead with due care and b^our to the earth, to repose there till that great 
 event. 
 
NUMA 
 
 15 C 1 
 
 nes coulJ not safely exist in lifeless writing. Influenced by 
 the same reasoning, it is said, the Pythagoreans did not com¬ 
 mit their precepts to writing, but entrusted them to the me¬ 
 mories of such as they thought worthy of so great a deposit. 
 And when they happened to communicate to an unworthy 
 person their abstruse problems in geometry, they gave out 
 that the gods threatened to avenge his profaneness and impiety 
 with some great and signal calamity. Those, therefore, may 
 be well excused who endeavour to prove by so many resem¬ 
 blances that Numa was acquainted with Pythagoras. Vale¬ 
 rius Antius relates, that there were twelve books written in 
 Latin, concerning religion, and twelve more of philosophy, in 
 Greek, buried in that coffin. But four hundred years after,* 
 when Publius Cornelius and Marcus Baebius were consuls, a 
 prodigious fall of rain having washed away the earth that co¬ 
 vered the coffins, and the lids falling off, one of them appear¬ 
 ed entirely empty, without the least remains of the body; in 
 the other, the books were found. Petilius, then praetor, hav¬ 
 ing examined them, made his report upon oath to the senate, 
 that it appeared to him inconsistent both with justice and re 
 ligion, to make them public. In consequence of which all the 
 volumes were carried into the Comitium, and burnt. 
 
 Glory follows in the train of great men, and increases after 
 their death; for envy does not long survive them; nay, it 
 sometimes dies before them. The misfortunes, indeed, of 
 the succeeding kings added lustre to the character of Numa. 
 Of the five that came after him, the last was driven from the 
 throne, and lived long in exile; and of the other four, not one 
 died a natural death. Three were traitorously slain. As for 
 Tullus Hostilius, who reigned next after Numa, he ridiculed 
 and despised many of his best institutions, particularly his re¬ 
 ligious ones, as effeminate and tending to inaction; for his 
 view was to dispose the people to war. He did not, however, 
 abide by his irreligious opinions, but falling into a severe and 
 
 * Plutarch probably wrote five hundred; for this happened in the year of 
 Rome 573. One Tercntius,” says Varro, ap. IS. August, de. Civ .* Dei.J 
 •‘had a piece of ground near the Janiculum; and a husbandman of his of' 
 day accidentally running* over Numa’s tomb, turned up some of the legislator’ 
 books, wherein he g*ave his reasons for establishing the religion of the Ro 
 mans, as he left it. The husbandman carried these books to the praetor, and 
 the praetor to the senate, who, after having read his frivolous reasons for his 
 religious establishments, agreed, that the books should be destroyed, in pur¬ 
 suance of Numa’s intentions. It was accordingly decreed, that the praetor 
 should throw them into the fire.” But though Numa’s motives for the re¬ 
 ligion he established might be trivial enough, that was not the chief reason 
 for suppressing them. The real, at least the principal reason, was the many 
 new superstitions, equally trivial, which the Romans had introduced, and the 
 worship which they paid to images, contrary to Numa’s appointment. 
 
160 
 
 NUMA. 
 
 complicated sickness, he changed them for a superstition,* 
 very different from Numa’s piety. Others, too, were infect¬ 
 ed with the same false principles, when they saw the manner 
 of his death, which is said to have happened by lightning, t 
 
 * None are so superstitious in distress as those who, in their prosperity, 
 have laughed at religion. The famous Canon Vossius was no less remarka¬ 
 ble for the greatness of his fears, than he was for the littleness of his faith. 
 
 j* The palace of Tullus Hostilius was burnt down by lightning: and he, 
 with his wife and children, perished in the flames. Though some historians 
 say, that Ancus Marcius, who was the grandson of Numa, expecting to suc¬ 
 ceed. to the crown, took the opportunity of the storm to assassinate the king. 
 
NUMA AND LYCURGUS 
 
 COMPARED. 
 
 Haying gone through the lives of Numa and Lycurgus, 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 accepting 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 advanced to sovereign power, 
 when a private person and a stranger; Lycurgus reduced him¬ 
 self 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 ho¬ 
 nour 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 respec¬ 
 tive governments, as musicians do the lyre, each in a different 
 manner. Lycurgus wound up the strings of Sparta, which he 
 found relaxed with luxury, to a stronger tone: Numa soften¬ 
 ed the high and harsh 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 sa¬ 
 crifices, after quitting the rugged paths of war, but to leave 
 entertainments and the pleasures of wine, for the laborious 
 exercises 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 con¬ 
 flicts and dangers, before he could establish his laws. Tin 
 genius of Numa was more mild and gentle, softening and at¬ 
 tempering 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 apart of the politics of Lycurgus, 
 we must allow Numa to have been far the more humane and 
 VfL. i.-Z 
 
162 
 
 NUMA AND LYCURGUS COMPARED. 
 
 equitable lawgiver, who permitted absolute slaves to taste o i 
 the honour of freemen, and in the Saturnalia to be entertained 
 along with their masters. * For this also they tell us was one of 
 Numa’s institutions, that persons in a state of servitude should 
 be admitted, at least once a year, to the liberal enjoyment 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 nei¬ 
 ther servant nor master, but all were upon the same footing, 
 and, as it were, of one family. 
 
 Both appear to have been equally studious to lead their 
 people to temperance and sobriety. As to the other virtues, 
 the one was more attached to fortitude, and the other to jus¬ 
 tice; though possibly the different nature and quality of their 
 respective governments required a different process. For it 
 was not through want of courage, but to guard against injus¬ 
 tice, that Numa restrained his subjects from war; nor did Ly- 
 curgus endeavour to infuse a martial spirit into his people, 
 with a view to encourage them to injure others, but to guard 
 them against being injured by invasions. As each had the 
 uxuriances of his citizens to prune, and their deficiencies to 
 fill up, they must necessarily make very considerable altera¬ 
 tions. 
 
 Numa’s distribution of the people was indulgent and agreea¬ 
 ble to the commonalty, as with him a various and mixed mass 
 of goldsmiths, musicians, shoemakers, and other trades, com- 
 
 E osed the body of the city. But Lycurgus inclined to the no- 
 ility in modelling his state, and he proceeded in a severe 
 and unpopular manner; putting all mechanic arts in 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 howto obey, command, and conquer their 
 enemies. That the freemen might be entirely and once for all 
 free, he would not suffer them to give any attention to their 
 circumstances, but that the 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 distinction as this: he only 
 
 * The Saturnalia was a feast celebrated on the 14th of the kalends of 
 January. Beside the sacrifices in honour of Saturn, who, upon his retiring* 
 into Italy, introduced there the happiness of the golden age, sen ants were 
 at this time indulged in mirth and freedom, in memory of the equaity which 
 prevailed in that age; presents were sent from one friend to another; and no 
 war was to be proclaimed, nor offender executed. It is uncertain Jvhen this 
 festival was instituted. Macrobius says, it was celebrated in Italy lc ng before 
 the building of Rome; and probably he is right, for the Greeks kept the same 
 feast under the name of Chronia. — Macrob. Saturn. 1. i. c. 7 
 
NUMA AND LYCURGUS COMPARED. 
 
 163 
 
 put a stop to the gain of rapine. Not solicitous to prevent 
 an inequality of substance, he forbade no other means of in¬ 
 creasing the fortunes of his subjects, nor their rising to the 
 greatest opulence; 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 possessions 
 of his citizens, but all were moderately provided, he should 
 at first have combated the desire of gain; and, like Lycurgus, 
 have watched against its inconveniences; for those were by 
 no means inconsiderable, but such as give birth to the many 
 and great troubles that happened in the Roman state. 
 
 As to an equal division of lands, neither was Lycurgus 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 probably as yet subsisting entire, had no occasion 
 to make a new one. 
 
 With respect to the community of wives and children, 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 Lacedaemonian, 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 children. The difference between the two customs is 
 this: that the Lacedaemonians appeared very easy and uncon¬ 
 cerned about an affair that in other places causes so much dis 
 turbance, and consumes men’s hearts with jealousy and sor¬ 
 row; whilst among the Romans 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 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 Ibycus; for they 
 call them Phxnomerides , and Andromaneis . Euripides detribes 
 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 uncovered. * 
 
 * It does not appear that Numa gave any sanction to this liberty. Plutarch 
 himself says, a little below, that no divorce was known in Rome till long after. 
 
164 
 
 NUMA AND LYCURGUS COMPARED. 
 
 The skirts of the habit which the virgins wore, were not sew 
 ed 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 husbands; for they con 
 sidered themselves as absolute mistresses in their houses; nay, 
 they wanted a share in affairs of state, and delivered their sen* 
 timents with great freedom concerning the most weighty mat¬ 
 ters. But Numa, though he preserved entire to the matron? 
 all the honour and respect that were paid them by their hus 
 bands in the time of Romulus, when they endeavoured bj 
 kindness to compensate for the rape, yet he obliged them t( 
 behave with great reserve, and to lay aside all impertinent c j 
 riosity. 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 
 husbands. When a woman once appeared in the forum to 
 plead her own cause, it is reported that the senate ordered the 
 oracle to be consulted, what this strange event portended to 
 the city.t Nay, what is recorded of a few infamous women, 
 is a proof of the obedience and meekness of the Roman ma¬ 
 trons 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 be¬ 
 fore for two hundred and thirty years from the building of 
 Rome;J and that Thalsea, the wife of Pinarius, was the first 
 that quarrelled, having a dispute with her mother-in-law Ge- 
 
 S ania, in the reign of Tarquin the proud. So well framed for 
 le preserving of decency and a propriety of behaviour, were 
 this lawgiver’s regulations with respect to marriage. 
 
 * Romulus made the drinking of wine, as well as adultery, a capital crime 
 in women. For. he said, adultery opens the door to all sorts of crimes, and 
 wine opens the door to adultery. The severity of the Iav7 was softened in 
 the succeeding ages; the women who were overtaken in liquor, were not 
 condemned to die, but to lose their dowers. 
 
 j* What then appeared so strange became afterwards common erough: in¬ 
 somuch, that every troublesome woman of that kind was called Afrania, 
 from a senator's wife of that name, who busied herself much in courts of 
 justice. The eloquent Hortensia, daughter to the orator Hortensius, plead¬ 
 ed with such success for the women, when the triumvirs had laid a fine up 
 on them, that she got a considerable part of it remitted. 
 i It was in the 5?0th year of Rome that this happened. 
 
NUMA AND LYCURGUS COMPARED. 
 
 165 
 
 Agreeable t) 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 required, 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 children being looked upon 
 as the only end of marriage. But the Romans married their 
 daughters at the age of twelve years, or under; that both their 
 bodies and manners might come pure and untainted into the 
 management of their husbands. It appears, then, that the for¬ 
 mer 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 regulating 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 lawgivers. For Numa left it to the option or con¬ 
 venience of parents, to bring up their sons to agriculture, to 
 ship-building, to the business of a brazier, or the art of a mu¬ 
 sician; 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 pro¬ 
 perty, and on other occasions are attentive only to their pri¬ 
 vate 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 pro¬ 
 posed, have considered it as his first care, to give the children 
 such a bent of education, and the youth such a mode of exer¬ 
 cise as would prevent any great difference or confusion in 
 their manners, that so they might be formed from their in¬ 
 fancy, and persuaded to walk together, in the same paths of 
 virtue? Lycurgus found the utility of this in several respects, 
 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, 
 jid 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 
 
 10 
 
166 NUMA AND LYCURGUS COMPARED. 
 
 But the primary view of Numa’s government, which was to 
 settle the Romans in lasting peace and tranquillity, immediate¬ 
 ly 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 edu¬ 
 cation. 
 
 You will say, then, was not Rome bettered by her wars? 
 A question this which wants 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 Lycurgus, that the Romans, upon quitting the dis¬ 
 cipline 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 re¬ 
 spectable people of Greece, became the meanest, and were in 
 dagger of being absolutely destroyed. 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 persuasions; to reign 
 undisturbed over a city not yet united in itself, without the 
 use of an armed force (which Lycurgus was obliged to have 
 recourse to, when he availed himself of the aid of the nobility 
 against the commons), and by his wisdom and justice alone, 
 to conciliate and combine all his subjects in peace. 
 
 • In the wars with the Fide nates, the Albans, and the lAtin*. 
 
THE 
 
 LIFE OF SOLON.* 
 
 Didymus, the grammarian, in Ins answer to Aselepiades, 
 concerning the laws of Solon, cites the testimony of one Phi- 
 locles, by which he would prove Solon the son of Euphorion, 
 contrary to the opinion of others that have wrote of him. . For 
 they all with one voice declare that Execestides was his fa¬ 
 ther; a man of moderate fortune and power, but of the noblest 
 family in Athens, being descended from Codrus. His mother, 
 according to Peraclides of Pontus, was cousin-german to the 
 mother of Pisistratus. This tie of friendship at first united 
 Solon and Pisistratus in a very intimate friendship, which was 
 drawn closer, (if we may believe some writers) by the regard 
 which the former had for the beauty and excellent qualities of 
 the latter.! Hence we may believe it was, that when they 
 differed afterwards about matters of state, this dissension 
 broke not out into any harsh or ungenerous treatment of each 
 other; but their first union kept some hold of their hearts, 
 some sparks of the flame still remained, and the tenderness of 
 former friendship was not quite forgotten. * * 
 
 * * * ***** 
 ******** 
 Solon’s father having hurt his fortune, J as Hermippus tells 
 
 * Solon flourished about the year before Christ 597. 
 
 f Pisistratus was remarkably courteous, affable, and liberal. He had al¬ 
 ways two or three slaves near him with bags of silver coin; when he saw any 
 man look sickly, or heard that any died insolvent, he relieved the one, and 
 buried the others at his own expense. If he perceived people melancholy, 
 he inquired the ca ise, and if he found it was poverty, he furnished them with 
 what might enable them to get bread, but not to live idly. Nay, he left even 
 his gardens and orchards open, and the fruit free to the citizens. His looks 
 were easy and sedate, his language soft and modest. In short, if his virtues 
 had been genuine, and not dissembled, with a view to the tyranny of Athens, 
 he would (as Solon told him) have been the best citizen in it. 
 
 t Aristotle reckons Solon himself among the inferior citizens, and quotes 
 bis own works to prove it. The truth is, that Solon was never rich, it mav 
 be, because he was always honest. In his youth, he was mightily addicted to 
 poetry. And Plato (in Timaeo ) says, that if he had finished all his poems, 
 and particularly the History of tne Atlantic Island, which he brought out of 
 Egypt, and had taken time to revise and correct them, as others did, neither 
 Homer, Hesiod, nor any other ancient poet, would have been more famous. 
 
168 
 
 SOLON. 
 
 us, by indulging bis great and munificent spirit, though the 
 son might have been supported by his friends, yet as he was 
 of a family that had long been assisting to others, he was 
 ashamed to accept of assistance himself; and, therefore, in his 
 younger years, applied himself to merchandise. Some, how¬ 
 ever, say that he travelled rather to gratify his curiosity, and 
 extend his knowledge, than to raise an estate. For he pro¬ 
 fessed his love of wisdom, and when far advanced in years, 
 made this declaration,—“I grow old in the pursuit of learn< 
 ing.” He was not too much attached to wealth, as we may 
 gather from the following verses:— 
 
 The man that boasts of golden stores. 
 
 Of grain that loads his bending floors. 
 
 Of fields with fresh’ning herbage green. 
 
 Where bounding steeds and herds are seen, 
 
 I call not happier than the swain, 
 
 Whose limbs are sound, whose food is plain, 
 
 Whose joys a blooming wife endears. 
 
 Whose hours a smiling offspring cheers.* 
 
 Yet, in another place, he says— 
 
 The flow of riches, though desir’d. 
 
 Life’s real goods, if well acquir’d, 
 
 Unjustly let me never gain, 
 
 Lest vengeance follow in their train. 
 
 indeed, a good man, a valuable member of society, should 
 neither set his heart upon superfluities, nor reject the use of 
 what is necessary and convenient. And, in those times, as 
 Hesiodt informs us, no business was looked upon as a dispar¬ 
 agement, nor did any trade cause a disadvantageous distinction. 
 The profession of merchandise was honourable, as it brought 
 home the produce of barbarous countries, engaged the friend¬ 
 ship of kings, and opened a wide field of knowledge and ex¬ 
 perience. Nay, some merchants have been founders of great 
 cities; Protus, for instance, that built Marseilles, for whom the 
 Gauls about the Rhone had the highest esteem. Thales also, 
 and Hippocrates the mathematician, are said to have had their 
 
 Jt is evident, both from the life and writings of this great man, that he v/as 
 a person not only of exalted virtue, but of a pleasant and agreeable temper. 
 He considered men as men: and keeping both their capacity for virtue, and 
 their proneness to evil, in his view, he adapted his laws so as to strengthen 
 and support the one, and to check and keep under the other. His institu¬ 
 tions are as remarkable for their sweetness and practicability, as those of 
 Iycurgus are for harshness and forcing human nature. 
 
 * This passage of Solon’s and another below, are now found among th< 
 sentences of Theognis. 
 
 * Lib. Ob. et Di. ver. 309. 
 
SOLON. Ib9 
 
 share in commerce; and the oil that Plato disposed of in 
 Egypt,* defrayed the expense of his travels. 
 
 If Solon was too expensive and luxurious in his way of liw 
 ing, and indulged his poetical vein in his description of plea¬ 
 sure too freely for a philosopher, it is imputed to his mercan¬ 
 tile life; for, as he passed through many and great Hangers, 
 he might surely compensate them with a little relaxation and 
 enjoyment. But that he placed himself rather in the class of 
 the poor than the rich, is evident from these lines:— 
 
 For vice, though Plenty fills her horn. 
 
 And virtue sinks in want and scorn; 
 
 Yet never, sure, shall Solon change 
 His truth for wealth’s most easy range! 
 
 Since virtue lives, and truth shall stand. 
 
 While wealth eludes the grasping hand. 
 
 Hu seems to have made use of his poetical talent at first, not 
 for any serious purpose, but only for amusement, and to fill 
 up his hours of leisure; but afterwards he inserted moral sen¬ 
 tences, and interwove many political transactions in his poems, 
 not for the sake of recording or remembering them, but some¬ 
 times by way of apology for his own administration, and 
 sometimes to exhort, to advise, or to censure the citizens of 
 Athens. Some are of opinion, that he attempted to put his 
 laws too in verse; and they give us this beginning:— 
 
 Supreme of gods, whose power we first address, 
 
 This plan to honour and these laws to bless. 
 
 Like most of the sages of those times, he cultivated chiefly 
 that part of moral philosophy, which treats of civil obliga¬ 
 tions. His physics were of a very simple and ancient cast, as 
 appears from the following lines:— 
 
 From cloudy vapours falls the treasur’d snow, 
 
 And the fierce hail; from lightning’s rapid blaze 
 Springs the loud thunder—winds disturb the deep, 
 
 Than whose unruffled breast, no smoother scene 
 In all the works of nature!— 
 
 Upon the whole, Thales seems to have been the only philoso¬ 
 pher who then carried his speculations beyond things in com¬ 
 mon use, while the rest of the wise men maintained their cha 
 racter by rules for social life. 
 
 They are reported to have met at Delphi, and afterwards a 
 Corinth, upon the invitation of Periander, who made provi- 
 
 * It was usual to trade into Egypt with the oil of Greece and Judea. It 
 Is said in the prophet Hosea, (c. xii. v. 1,) Ephraim carrieth oil into Egypt 
 
 V" ol i .——2 A 1(1* 
 
170 
 
 SOLON. 
 
 sion for their entertainment. But what contributed most to 
 their honour, was their sending the tripod from one to another, 
 with an ambition to outvie each other in modesty. The story 
 is this:—When some Coans were drawing a net, certain stran 
 gers from Miletus brought the draught unseen. It proved to be 
 a golden tripod, which Helen, as she sailed from Troy, is said 
 to" have thrown in there, in compliance with an ancient oracle. 
 A dispute arising at first between the strangers and the fisher- 
 men about the tripod, and afterwards extending itself to the 
 states to which they belonged, so as almost to engage them 
 in hostilities, the priestess of Apollo took up the matter, by 
 ordering, that the wisest man they could find should have the 
 tripod. And, first, it was sent to Thales at Miletus, the Coans 
 voluntarily presenting that to one of the Milesians, for which 
 they would have gone to war with them all. Thales declared, 
 that Bias was a wjser man than he, so it was brought to him. 
 He sent it to another, as wiser still. After making a farther 
 circuit, it came to Thales the second time. And, at last, it 
 was carried from Miletus to Thebes, and dedicated to the Is- 
 menian Apollo. Theophrastus relates, that the tripod was 
 first sent to Bias at Priene; that Bias sent it back again to 
 Thales at Miletus; that so having passed through the hands of 
 the seven, it came round to Bias again, and at last was sent to 
 the temple of Apollo at Delphi. This is the most current ac¬ 
 count; yet some say the present was not a tripod, but a bowl 
 sent by Croesus; and others, that it was a cup which one Ba- 
 thycles had left for that purpose. 
 
 We have a particular account of a conversation which So¬ 
 lon had with Anacharsis,* and of another he had with Thales. 
 Anacharsis went to Solon’s house at Athens, knocked at the 
 door, and said,—“ He was a stranger, who desired to enter 
 into engagements of friendship and mutual hospitality with 
 him.” Solon answered,—“Friendships are best formed at 
 home.” “Then do you,” said Anacharsis, “who are at home, 
 make me your friend, and receive me into your house.” 
 Struck with the quickness of his repartee, Solon gave him a 
 
 • The Scythians long before the days of Solon, had been celebrated for 
 theiff frugality, their temperance, and justice. Anacharsis was one of these 
 8cythians, and a prince of the blood. He went to Athens about the forty- 
 seventh Olympiad, that is 590 years before Christ. His good sense, his 
 knowledge, and great experience, made him pass for one of the seven wise 
 men. But tlje greatest and wisest men have their inconsistencies; for such 
 it certainly was, for Anacharsis to carry the Grecian worship, the rites of 
 Cybele, into Scythia, contraiy to the laws of his country. Though he per* 
 formed those rites privately in a woody part of the country, a Scythian hap 
 pened to see him, and acquainted the king with it, who came immediately 
 and sh ot him with an arrow upon the spot.— Herodot. 1. iv. c. 76. 
 
SOLON. 
 
 171 
 
 kind welcome, and kept him some time with him, being then 
 employed in public affairs and in modelling his laws. When 
 Anacharsis knew what Solon was about, he laughed at his un¬ 
 dertaking, and at the absurdity of imagining he could restrain 
 the avarice and injustice of the citizens by written laws, which 
 in all respects resembled spiders’ webs, and would, like them, 
 only entangle, and hold the poor and weak, while the rich and 
 powerful easily broke through them. To this Solon replied,— 
 “Men keep their agreements, when it is an advantage to both 
 parties not to break them; and he would so frame his laws, as 
 to make it evident to the Athenians, that it would be more for 
 their interest to observe them than to transgress them.” The 
 event, however, showed, that Anacharsis was nearer the truth 
 in his conjecture, than Solon was in his hope. Anacharsis 
 having seen an assembly of the people at Athens, said,—“ He 
 was surprised at this, that in Greece wise men pleaded causes, 
 and fools determined them.” 
 
 When Solon was entertained by Thales at Miletus, he ex¬ 
 pressed some wonder that “ he did not marry and raise a fa¬ 
 mily.” To this Thales gave no immediate answer; but some 
 days after he instructed a stranger to say,—“That he came 
 from Athens ten days before.” Solon inquiring, “What news 
 there was at Athens?” the man, according to his instructions, 
 said,—“ None, except the funeral of a young man, which was 
 attended by the whole city; for he was the son (as they told 
 me) of a person of great honour, and of the highest reputation 
 for virtue, who was then abroad upon his travels.” “ What a 
 miserable man is he,” said Solon; “ but what was his name?” 
 “ I have heard his name,” answered the stranger, “ but do not 
 recollect it, all I remember is, that there was much talk of 
 his wisdom and justice.” Solon, whose apprehensions in¬ 
 creased with every reply, was now much disconcerted, and 
 mentioned his own name, asking,—“ Whether it was not So¬ 
 lon’s son that was dead?” The stranger answering in the af¬ 
 firmative, be began to beat his head, and to do and say such 
 things as are usual to men in a transport of grief. * Then 
 Thales, taking him by the hand, said, with a smile,—“ These 
 things which strike down so firm a man as Solon, kept me 
 from marriage and from having children; but take courage, 
 my good friend, for not a word of what has been told you is 
 true.” Hermippus says, he took this story from Pataecus, 
 who used to boast he had the soul of iEsop. 
 
 But after all, to neglect the procuring of what is necessary 
 
 * Whether on this occasion, or on the real loss of a son, is uncertain, Scv 
 ion, being* desired not to weep, since weeping* would avail nothing*; he an¬ 
 gered with much humanity and g*ood sense,—“And for this cause I weep.” 
 
172 
 
 SOLON. 
 
 or convenient in life, for fear of losing it, would be actir.g i 
 very mean and absurd part. By the same rule a man might 
 refuse the enjoyment of riches, or honour, or wisdom, because 
 it is possible for him to be deprived of them. Even the ex¬ 
 cellent qualities of the mind, the most valuable and pleasing 
 possession in the world, we see destroyed by poisonous drugs, 
 or by the violence of some disease. Nay, Thales himself could 
 not be secure from fears, by living single, unless he would 
 renounce all interest in his friends, his relations, and his coun¬ 
 try. Instead of that, however, he is said to have adopted his 
 sister’s son, named Cybisthus. Indeed the soul has not only 
 a principle of sense, of understanding, of memory, but of love; 
 and when it has nothing at home to fix its affection upon, it 
 unites itself, and cleaves to something abroad. Strangers, or 
 persons of spurious birth, often insinuate themselves into such 
 a man’s heart, as into a house or land that has no lawful heirs, 
 and together with love, bring a train of cares and apprehen¬ 
 sions for them. It is not uncommon to hear persons of a mo¬ 
 rose temper, who talk against marriage and a family, uttering 
 the most abject complaints when a cliild which they have had 
 by a slave or a concubine happens to sicken or die. Nay, 
 some have expressed a very great regret upon the death of 
 dogs and horses; whilst others have borne the loss of valuable 
 children without any affliction, or at least without any indecent 
 sorrow, and have passed the rest of their days with calmness 
 and composure. It is certainly weakness, not affection, which 
 brings infinite troubles and fears upon men, who are not forti¬ 
 fied by reason against the power of fortune, who have no en¬ 
 joyment of a present good because of their apprehensions, and 
 the real anguish they find in considering that in time they 
 may be deprived of it. No man, surely, should take refuge 
 in poverty, to guard against the loss of an estate; nor remain 
 in the unsocial state of celibacy, that he may have neither 
 friends nor children to lose; he should be armed by reason 
 against all events. But perhaps we have been too diffuse in 
 these sentiments. 
 
 When the Athenians, tired out with a long and troublesome 
 war against the Megarensians for the isle of Salamis, made a 
 law that no one for the future, under pain of death, should 
 either by speech or writing propose that the city should assert 
 its claim to that island, Solon was very uneasy at so dis¬ 
 honourable a decree, and seeing great part of the youth desir- 
 ous to begin the war again, being restrained from it only by 
 fear of the law, he feigned himself insane;* and a report 
 
 * When the Athenians were delivered from their fears by the death of 
 Epaminondas, they began to squander away upon shows and plays the 
 
SOLON. 
 
 173 
 
 spread from his house into the city, that he was out of his 
 senses. Privately, however, he had composed an elegy, and 
 got it by heart, in order to repeat it in public; thus prepared, 
 he sallied cut unexpectedly into the market-place with a cap 
 jpon liis head*. A great number of people flocking about, 
 him there, he got upon the herald’s stone, and sung the elegy 
 which begins thus:— 
 
 Hear and attend; from Salamis I came 
 
 To show your error. 
 
 This composition is entitled Salamis, and consists of a hundred 
 very beautiful lines. When Solon had done, his friends be¬ 
 gan to express their admiration, and Pisistratus in particular 
 exerted himself in persuading the people to comply with hi* 
 directions; whereupon they repealed the law, once more un¬ 
 dertook the war, and invested Solon with the command. The 
 common account of his proceedings is this:—He sailed with 
 Pisistratus to Colias, and having seized the women, who, ac¬ 
 cording to the custom of the country, were offering sacrifice 
 to Ceres there, he sent a trusty person to Salamis, who was to 
 pretend he was a deserter, and to advise the Megarensians, if 
 they had a mind to seize the principal Athenian matrons, to 
 set sail immediately for Colias. The Megarensians readily 
 embracing the proposal, and sending out a body of men, So¬ 
 lon discovered the ship as it put off from the island; and caus¬ 
 ing the women directly to withdraw, ordered a number oi 
 young men whose faces were yet smooth, to dress themselves 
 m their habits, caps, and shoes. Thus, with weapons con 
 cealed under their clothes, they were to dance and play by 
 the sea-side till the enemy was landed, and the vessel neai 
 enough to be seized. Matters being thus ordered, the Me¬ 
 garensians were deceived with the appearance, and ran con¬ 
 fusedly on shore, striving which should first lay hold on the 
 women. But they met with so warm a reception that they 
 were cut off to a man; and the Athenians embarking immedi¬ 
 ately for Salamis, took possession of the island. 
 
 Others deny that it was recovered in this manner, and tell 
 us, that Apollo, being first consulted at Delphi, gave this an¬ 
 swer:— 
 
 money that had been assigned for the pay of the army and navy, and at the 
 same time they made it death for any one to propose a reformation. In that 
 case, Demosthenes did not, like Solon, attack their error under a pretence 
 of insanity, but boldly and resolutely spoke ag-ainst it, and by the force of 
 his eloquence brought tliem to correct it. 
 
 * None wore caps but the sick. 
 
174 
 
 SOLON. 
 
 Go, firs i propitiate the country’s chiefs 
 Hid iniEsopus’ lap; who, when interr’d. 
 
 Fac’d the declining- sun. 
 
 Upon this Solon crossed the sea by night, and offered sacri¬ 
 fices in Salamis to the heroes Periphemus and Cichreus. 
 Then taking five hundred Athenian volunteers, who had ob¬ 
 tained a decree, that if they conquered the island, the govern¬ 
 ment of it should be invested in them, he sailed with a num 
 ber of fishing-vessels and one galley of thirty oars for Salamis, 
 where he cast anchor at a point which looks towards Euboea. 
 
 The Megarensians that were in the place having heard a 
 confused report of what had happened, betook themselves in 
 a disorderly manner to arms, and sent a ship to discover the 
 enemy. As the ship approached too near, Solon took it, and 
 securing the crew, put in their place some of the bravest of 
 the Athenians, with orders to make the best of their way to 
 the city as privately as possible. In the mean time, with the 
 rest of his men, he attacked the Megarensians by land, and 
 while these were engaged, those from the ship took the city. 
 A custom which obtained afterwards seems to bear witness to 
 the truth of this account; for an Athenian ship, once a-year, 
 passed silently to Salamis, and the inhabitants coming down 
 upon it with noise and tumult, one man in armour leaped 
 ashore, and ran shouting towards the promontory of Sciradium, 
 to meet those that were advancing by land. Near that place 
 is a temple of Mars erected by Solon; for there it was that he 
 defeated the Megarensians, and dismissed, upon certain con 
 ditions, such as were not slain in battle. 
 
 However, the people of Megara persisted in their claim, till 
 both sides had severely felt the calamities of war; and then 
 they referred the affair to the decision of the Lacedaemonians 
 Many authors relate that Solon availed himself of a passage in 
 Homer’s catalogue of ships, which he alleged before the arbi¬ 
 trators, dexterously inserting a line of his own; for to tins 
 verse: 
 
 Ajax from Salamis twelve ships commands. 
 
 he is said to have added, 
 
 And ranks his forces with th* Athenian power, 
 
 Bui the Athenians look upon this as an idle story, and tell us, 
 that Solon made it appear to the judges, that Philaeus and Eu- 
 
 * This line could be no sufficient evidence; for there are many passages 
 in Homer which prove that the ships of Ajax were stationed near the Thes 
 saiians. 
 
SOLON. 
 
 175 
 
 rysaces, sons of Ajax, being admitted by tie Athenians to the 
 freedom of their city, gave up the island to them, and remov¬ 
 ed, the one to Brauron, and the other to Melite in Attica; 
 likewise, that the tribe of the Philaidae, of which Pisistratus 
 was, had its name from that Philaeus. He brought another 
 argument against the Megarensians from the manner of bury¬ 
 ing in Salamis, which was agreeable to the custom of Athens, 
 and not to that of Megara; for the Megarensians inter the 
 dead with their faces to the east, and the Athenians turn theirs 
 to the west. On the other hand, Hereas of Megara insists 
 that the Megarensians likewise turn the faces of the dead to 
 the west; and what is more, that, like the people of Salamis, 
 they put three or four corpses in one tomb, whereas the Athe¬ 
 nians have a separate tomb for each. But Solon’s cause was 
 farther assisted by certain oracles of Apollo, in which the 
 island was called Ionian Salamis. This matter was determin¬ 
 ed by five Spartans, Critolaides, Amompharetus, Hypsechidas, 
 Anaxilas, and Cleomenes. 
 
 Solon acquired considerable honour and authority in Athens 
 by this affair; but he was much more celebrated among the 
 Greeks in general for negociating succours for the temple at 
 Delphi, against the insolent and injurious behaviour of the 
 Cirrhaeans,* and persuading the Greeks to arm for the honour 
 of the god. At his motion it was that the Amphictyons de¬ 
 clared war, as Aristotle, among others, testifies, in his book 
 concerning the Pythian games, where he attributes that decree 
 to Solon. He was not, however, appointed general in that 
 war, as Hermippus relates from Euanthes the Samian. For 
 iEschines the orator says no such thing; and we find in the 
 records of Delphi, that Alcmaeon, not Solon, commanded the 
 Athenians on that occasion. 
 
 Tne execrable proceeding against the accomplices of Cy- 
 
 * The inhabitants of Cirrha, a town seated in the bay of Corinth, after 
 having* by repeated incursions wasted the territory of Delphi, besieged the 
 city itself, from a desire of making themselves masters of the riches contain¬ 
 ed in the temple of Apollo. Advice of this being sent to the Amphidyons , 
 who were the states-general of Greece, Solon advised that this matter should 
 be universally resented. Accordingly Clisthenes, tyrant of Sicyon, was sent 
 commander in chief against the Cirrhaeans; Alcm?eon was general of the 
 Athenian quota; and Solon went as counsellor or assistant to Clisthenes. 
 When the Greek army had besieged Cirrha some time, without any great 
 appearance of success, Apollo was consulted, who answered, that they 
 should not be able to reduce the place till the waves of the Cirrhzean sea 
 washed the territories of Delphi. This answer struck the army with sur¬ 
 prise; from which Solon extricated them, by advising Clisthenes to conse¬ 
 crate the whole territories of Cirrha to the Delphic Apollo, whence it would 
 follow that, the sea must wash the sacred coast. Pausanias fin PhoricisJ 
 mentions another stratagem, which was not worthy of the justice of SoIoh. 
 Cirrha, however, was. taken, and became henceforth the arsenal of Delphi. 
 
170 
 
 SOLON. 
 
 Ion,* had long occasioned great troubles in the Athenian state 
 The conspirators had taken sanctuary in Minerva’s temple; 
 but Megacles, then archon, persuaded them to quit it, and 
 stand trial, under the notion that if they tied a thread to the 
 shrine of the goddess, and kept hold of it, they would still be 
 under her protection. But when they came over against the 
 temple of the Furies, the thread broke of itself; upon which 
 Megacles and his colleagues rushed upon them, and seized 
 them, as if they had lost their privilege. Such as were out. 
 of the temple were stoned; those that fled to the altars were 
 cut in pieces there; and they only were spared who made ap¬ 
 plication to the wives of the magistrates. From that time 
 those magistrates were called execrable , and became objects of 
 the public hatred. The remains of Cylon’s faction afterwards 
 recovered strength, and kept up the quarrel with the descen¬ 
 dants of Megacles. The dispute was greater than ever, and the 
 two parties more exasperated, when Solon, whose authority 
 was now very great, and others of the principal Athenians, 
 interposed, and by entreaties and arguments persuaded the 
 persons called execrable to submit to justice and a fair trial, be¬ 
 fore three hundred judges selected from the nobility. Myron, 
 of the Phylensian ward, carried on the impeachment, and they 
 were condemned. As many as were alive, were driven into 
 exile; and the bodies of the dead dug up and cast out beyond 
 the borders of Attica. Amidst these disturbances, the Me- 
 garensians renewed the war, took Nisae from the Athenians, 
 and recovered Salamis once more. 
 
 About this time the city was likewise afflicted with supersti¬ 
 tious fears and strange appearances; and the soothsayers de¬ 
 clared, that there were certain abominable crimes, which want¬ 
 ed expiation, pointed out by the entrails of the victims. Upon 
 
 * There was, for a long* time after the democracy took place, a strong 
 party against it, who left no measures untried, in order, if possible, to restore 
 their ancient form of government. Cylon, a man of quality, and son-in-law 
 to Theagenes, tyrant of Megara, repined at the sudden change of the ma¬ 
 gistrates, and had the thoughts of asking that as a favour, which he appre¬ 
 hended to be due to his birth-right. He formed, therefore, a design to 
 seize the citadel; which he put in practice in the forty-fifth Olympiad, when 
 many of the citizens were gone to the Olympic games. Megacles, who 
 was at that time chief archon, with the other magistrates and the whole pow¬ 
 er of Athens, immediately besieged the conspirators there, and reduced 
 them to such distress, that Cylon and his brother fled, and left the meaner 
 sort to shift for themselves. Such as escaped the sword, took refuge, as 
 Plutarch relates, in Minerva’s temple; and though they deserved death for 
 conspiring against the government, yet, as the magistrates put them to death 
 in breach of the privilege of sanctuary, they brought upon themselves the 
 indignation of the superstitious Athenians* who deemed such a breach a 
 greater crime than treason. 
 
SOLDI*. 
 
 in 
 
 ahis they sent to Crete for Epimenides the Phscstian y * who is 
 reckoned the seventh among the wise men, by those that do 
 not admit Periander into the number. He was reputed a man 
 of great piety, and loved by the gods, and skilled in matters 
 of religion, particularly in what related to inspiration and the 
 sacred mysteries; therefore the men of those days called him 
 the son of the nymph Balte, and one of the Curetes revived. 
 When he arrived at Athens, he contracted a friendship with 
 Solon, and privately gave him considerable assistance, prepare 
 mg the way for the reception of his laws. For he taught the 
 Athenians to be more frugal in their religious worship, and 
 more moderate in their mourning, by intermixing certain sa¬ 
 crifices with the funeral solemnities, and abolishing the cruel 
 and barbarous customs that had generally prevailed among the 
 women before. What is of still greater consequence, by ex¬ 
 piations, lustrations, and the erecting of temples and shrines, 
 ne hallowed and purified the city, and made the people more 
 observant of justice, and more inclined to union. 
 
 When he Had seen Munychia, and considered it some time, 
 he is reported to have said to those about him,t “How blind 
 is man to futurity! If the Athenians could foresee what trouble 
 that place will give them, they would tear it in pieces with 
 their teeth rather than it should stand.* 1 Something similar 
 lo this is related of Thales; for he ordered the Milesians to 
 bury him in a certain recluse and neglected place, and fore¬ 
 told, at the same time, that their market-place would one day 
 stand there. As for Epimenides, he was held in admiration 
 at Athens; great honours were paid him, and many valuable 
 presents made; yet he would accept of nothing but a branch of 
 
 * This Epimenides was a very extraordinary person. Diogenes Laertius 
 tells us, that he was the inventor of the art of lustrating or purifying houses, 
 fields, and persons; which, if spoken of Greece, may be true; but Moses had 
 long before taught the Hebrews something of this nature.— (~ Vide lev it. 
 xvi.) Epimenides took some sheep that were all black, and others that were 
 all white; these he led into the Areopagus, and turning them loose, directed 
 certain persons to follow them, who should mark where they couched, and 
 there sacrifice them to the local deity. This being done, altars were erect¬ 
 ed in all these places to perpetuate the memory of this solemn expiation. 
 There were, however, other ceremonies practised for the purpose of lustra¬ 
 tion, of which Tizetzes, in his poetical chronicle, gives a particular account, 
 but which are too trifling to be mentioned here. 
 
 f This prediction was fulfilled 270 years after, when Antipater constrain¬ 
 ed the Athenians to admit his garrison into that place. Besides this pro¬ 
 phecy, Epimenides uttered another during his stay at Athens; for hearing 
 that the citizens were alarmed at the progress of the Persian power at sea, 
 he advised them to make themselves easy, for that the Persians would not 
 for many years attempt any thing against the Greeks, and when they did, 
 they would receive greater loss themselves than they would be able to hr Jig 
 wpon the states they thought to destroy.— La'erf. in J'itd et Bimen 
 
 V^ot. L-—-g B * 7 
 
178 
 
 SOLON 
 
 the sacred olive, which they gave him at his request; and with 
 that he departed. 
 
 When the troubles about Cylon’s affairs were over, and the 
 sacrilegious persons removed in the manner we have mention¬ 
 ed, the Athenians relapsed into their old disputes concerning 
 the government; for there were as many parties among them 
 as there were different tracts of land in their country. The 
 inhabitants of the mountainous part were, it seems, for a de¬ 
 mocracy; those of the plains for an oligarchy; and those of the 
 sea-coasts, contending for a mixed kind of government, hin¬ 
 dered the other two from gaining their point. At the same 
 :ime, the inequality between the poor and the rich occasioned 
 the greatest discord; and the state was in so dangerous a situ¬ 
 ation, that there seemed to be no way to quell the seditious, 
 or to save it from ruin, but changing it to a monarchy. So 
 greatly were the poor in debt to the rich, that they were obli¬ 
 ged either to pay them a sixth part of the produce of the land 
 (whence they were called Hedemorii and Theies ), or else to en¬ 
 gage their persons to their creditors, who might seize them on 
 failure of payment. Accordingly some made slaves of them, 
 and others sold them to foreigners. Nay, some parents were 
 forced to sell their own children (for no law forbade it), and 
 to quit the city, to avoid the severe treatment of those usurers. 
 But the greater number, and men of the most spirit, agreed to 
 stand by each other, and to bear such impositions no longer. 
 They determined to choose a trusty person for their leader, 
 to deliver those who had failed in their time of payment, to di¬ 
 vide the land, and to give an entire new face to the common 
 wealth. 
 
 Then the most prudent of the Athenians cast their eyes up¬ 
 on Solon, as a man least obnoxious to either party, having 
 neither been engaged in oppressions with the rich, nor en¬ 
 tangled in necessities with the poor. Him, therefore, they en¬ 
 treated to assist the public in this exigency, and to compose 
 these differences. Phanias, the Lesbian, asserts, indeed, that 
 Solon, to save the state, dealt artfully with both parties, and 
 privately promised the poor a division of the lands, and the 
 rich a confirmation of their securities. At first he was loth to 
 take the administration upon him, by reason of the avarice of 
 some, and the insolence of others; but was, however, chosen 
 archon next after Philombrotus, and at the same time arbitra¬ 
 tor and lawgiver; the rich accepting of him readily as one of 
 them , and the poor as a good and worthy man. They tell us, 
 too, that a saying of his, which he had let fall some time be¬ 
 fore, that—“ equality causes no war,” was then much repeat¬ 
 ed, and pleased both the rich and the poor; the latter expect 
 ing to come to a balance by th^i^ numbers and bv the measure 
 
SOLON. 
 
 179 
 
 ol divided lands, and the former to preserve an equality at 
 least by their dignity and power. Thus both parties being in 
 great hopes, the heads of them were urgent with Solon to 
 make himself king, and endeavoured to persuade him, that he 
 might with better assurance take upon him the direction of a 
 city where he had the supreme authority. Nay, many of the 
 citizens that leaned to neither party, seeing the intended 
 change difficult to be effected by reason and law, were not 
 against the entrusting of the government to the hands of one 
 wise and just man. Some, moreover, acquaint us, that he re¬ 
 ceived this oracle from Apollo:— 
 
 Seize, seize the helm, the reeling’ vessel guide. 
 
 With aiding* patriots stem the raging 1 tide. 
 
 His friends, in particular, told him it would appear that ne 
 wanted courage, if he rejected the monarchy for fear of the 
 name of tyrant, as if the sole and supreme power would not 
 soon become a lawful sovereignty through the virtues of him 
 that received it. Thus formerly (said they) the Eubceans set 
 up Tynnondas, and lately the Mitylenaeans Pittacus for their 
 prince.* None of these things moved Solon from his pur¬ 
 pose; and the answer he is said to have given to his friends 
 is this:—“Absolute monarchy is a fair field, but it has no 
 outlet.” And in one of his poems he thus addresses himself 
 to his friend Phocus:— 
 
 -If I spar’d my country, 
 
 If gilded violence and tyrannic sway 
 
 Could never charm me, thence no shame accrues; 
 
 Still the mild honour of my name I boast. 
 
 And find my empire there. 
 
 Whence it is evident that his reputation was very great before 
 he appeared in the character of a legislator. As for the ridi¬ 
 cule he was exposed to for rejecting kingly power, he has de 
 scribed it in the following verses:— 
 
 Nor wisdom’s palm, nor deep laid policy 
 
 Can Solon boast; for when its noblest blessings 
 
 Heaven pour’d into his lap, he spurn’d them from him. 
 
 Where was his sense and spirit, when enclos’d 
 
 * Pi ttacus, one of the seven wise men of Greece, made himself master of 
 Mitylene; for which Alcaeus, who was of the same town, contemporaiy with 
 Pittacus, and as a poet, a friend to liberty, satirized him, as he did the 
 other tyrants. Pittacus disregarded his censures; and having by his authority 
 quelled the seditions of his citizens, and established peace and harmony 
 among them, he voluntarily quitted his power, and restored his country t* 
 its liberty. 
 
J80 
 
 SOLON. 
 
 He found the choicest prey, nor deign’d to draw It * 
 
 Who, to command fair Athens but one day. 
 
 Would not himself, with all liis race, have fallen 
 Contented on the morrow? 
 
 Thus he has introduced the multitude and men of low minds 
 as discoursing about him. But though he rejected absolute 
 
 S >wer, he proceeded with spirit enough in the administration. 
 
 e did not make any concessions in behalf of the powerful, 
 nor, in the framing of his laws, did he indulge the humour of 
 his constituents. Where the former establishment was toler¬ 
 able, he neither applied remedies, nor used the incision knife, 
 lest he should put the whole in disorder, and not have power 
 to settle or compose it afterwards in the temperature he could 
 wish. He only made such alterations as he might bring the 
 people to acquiesce in by persuasion, or compel them to by 
 his authority, making (as he says)—“ force and right con¬ 
 spire.” Hence it was, that having the question afterwards 
 put to him,—“Whether he had provided the best of laws for 
 the Athenians?” he answered,—“ The best they were capable 
 of receiving. ” And as the moderns observe, that the Athe¬ 
 nians used to qualify the harshness of things by giving them 
 softer and politer names, calling whores mistresses , tributes con¬ 
 tributions ■, garrisons guards , and prisons castles; so Solon seems 
 to be the first that distinguished the cancelling of debts by ti' e 
 name of a discharge . For this was the first of his public acts 
 that debts should be forgiven, and that no man for the fu¬ 
 ture should take the body of his debtor for security. Though 
 Androtion and some others say, that it was not by the cancel¬ 
 ling of debts, but by moderating the interest, that the poor 
 were relieved, they thought themselves so happy in it, that 
 they gave the name of discharge to this act of humanity, as 
 well as to the enlarging of measures and the value of money, 
 which went along with it. For he ordered the minas, which 
 before went but tor seventy-three drachmas , to go for a hun¬ 
 dred; so that, as they paid the same in value, but much less 
 in weight, those that had great sums to pay were relieved, 
 while such as received them were no losers. 
 
 The greater part of writers, however, affirm, that it was 
 the abolition of past securities that was called a discharge; and 
 with these the poems of Solon agree; for in them he values 
 himself on—“ having taken away the marks of mortgaged 
 land,* which before were almost every where set up, and 
 made free those fields which before were bound!” and not 
 only so, but—“ of such citizens as were seizable by their cre- 
 
 * The Athenians had a custcm of fixing’ up billets, to show that house# 
 or lands u?ere mortgaged. 
 
SOLON. 
 
 181 
 
 ditors for debt, some,’’ he tells us, “he had brought back 
 from other countries where they had wandered so long, that 
 they had forgot the Attic dialect, and others he had set at li¬ 
 berty who had experienced a cruel slavery at home. 
 
 This affair, indeed, brought upon him the greatest trouble 
 he met with; for when he undertook the annulling of debts, 
 and was considering of a suitable speech, and a proper method 
 of introducing the business, he told some of his most intimate 
 friends, namely Conon, Clinias, and Hipponicus, that he in¬ 
 tended only to abolish the debts, and not to meddle with the 
 lands. These friends of his hastening to make their advan¬ 
 tage of the secret before the decree took place, borrowed 
 large sums of the rich, and purchased estates with them. Af¬ 
 terwards, when the decree was published, they kept their 
 possessions, without paying the money they had taken up; 
 which brought great reflections upon Solon, as if he had not 
 been imposed upon with the rest, but rather an accomplice in 
 the fraud. This charge, however, was soon removed, by his 
 being the first to comply with the law, and remitting a debt 
 of five talents, which he had out at interest. Others, among 
 whom is Polyzelus the Rhodian, say it was fifteen talents. 
 But his friends went by the name of Chreocopidae or debt-cutters , 
 ever after. 
 
 The method he took satisfied neither the poor nor the rich. 
 The latter were displeased by the cancelling of their bonds, 
 and the former at not finding a division of lands. Upon this 
 they had fixed their hopes; and they complained that he had 
 not, like Lycurgus, made all the citizens equal in estate. Ly- 
 curgus, however, being the eleventh from Hercules, and hav¬ 
 ing reigned many years in Lacedaemon, had acquired great 
 authority, interest, and friends, of which he knew very well 
 how to avail himself in setting up a new form of government; 
 yet he was obliged to have recourse to force rather than per¬ 
 suasion, and had an eye struck out in the dispute, before he 
 could bring it to a lasting settlement, and establish such an 
 union and equality as left neither rich nor poor in the city. 
 On the other hand, Solon’s estate was but moderate, not supe¬ 
 rior to that of some commoners, and, therefore, he attempted 
 not to erect such a commonwealth as that of Lycurgus, con¬ 
 sidering it as out of his power; he proceeded as far as he 
 thought he could be supported by the confidence the people 
 had in his probity and wisdom. 
 
 That he answered not the expectations of the generality, 
 but offended them by falling short, appears from these verses 
 of his:— 
 
 17* 
 
SOLON. 
 
 182 
 
 Those eyes, with joy once sparkling 1 when they view’d me. 
 
 With cold oblique regard behold me now. 
 
 And a little after,— 
 
 -Yet who but Solon 
 
 Could have spoke peace to their tumultuous waves, 
 
 And not have sunk beneath them?* 
 
 Cut being soon sensible of the utility of the decree, they laid 
 aside their complaints, offered a public sacrifice, which the}' 
 called seisacthia , or the sacrifice of the discharge , and constituted 
 Solon lawgiver and superintendent of the commonwealth; 
 committing to him the regulation not of a part only, but the 
 whole—magistracies, assemblies, courts of judicature, and 
 senate; and leaving him to determine the qualification, num¬ 
 ber, and time of meeting for them all, as well as to abrogate 
 or continue the former constitutions at his pleasure. 
 
 First, then, he repealed the laws of Draco,t except those 
 concerning murder, because of the severity of the punishments 
 they appointed: which for almost all offences were capital; 
 even those that were convicted of idleness were to suffer death, 
 and such as stole only a few apples or pot-herbs, were to be 
 punished in the same manner as sacrilegious persons and mur¬ 
 derers. Hence a saying of Demades, who lived long after, 
 was much admired ,— 66 That Draco wrote his laws not with 
 ink, but with blood.” And he himself being asked, “Why 
 he made death the punishment for most offences?” answered, 
 
 *- ryu is a proverbial expression, which will not bear a 
 
 literal prose translation, much less a poetical one. It was necessary, there¬ 
 fore, to give a new turn to the sentence, only keeping the sense in view. 
 
 j- Draco was archon in the second, though some say in the last year of 
 the thirty-ninth Olympiad, about the year before Christ 623. Though the 
 name of this great man occurs frequently in history, yet we no where find 
 so much as ten fines together concerning him and his institutions. He may 
 be considered as the first legislator of the Athenians; for the laws, or rather 
 precepts of Triptolemus, were very few, viz. Honour your parents; worship 
 the gods; hurt not animals. Draco was the first of the Greeks that punished 
 adultery with death; and he esteemed murder so high a crime, that to im¬ 
 print a deep abhorrence of it in the minds of men, he ordained that process 
 should be carried on even against inanimate things, if they accidentally 
 caused the death of any person. But, besides murder and adultery, which 
 deserved death, he made a number of smaller offences capital; and that 
 brought almost all his laws into disuse. The extravagant severity of them, 
 like an edge too finely ground, hindered his thesmvi, as he called them, 
 from striking deep. Porphyry ("de Abstinent. J has preserved one of them 
 concerning divine worship: “It is an everlasting law in Attica, that the 
 gods are to be worshipped, and the heroes also, according to the customs 
 of our ancestors, and in private only with a proper address, first fruits, and 
 annual libations.” 
 
SOLON. 
 
 183 
 
 %fc Small ones deserve it, and I can find no greater for the most 
 heinous. 5 ' 
 
 In the next place, Solon took an estimate of the estates of 
 the citizens; intending to leave the great offices in the hands 
 of the rich, but to give the rest of the people a share in other 
 departments which they had not before. Such as had a year- 
 Iv income of five hundred measures in wet and dry goods, he 
 placed in the first rank, and called them Pentacosiomedimni. * 
 The second consisted of those that could keep a horse, or 
 whose lands produced three hundred measures; these were of 
 the equestrian order, and called Hippoda telountes . And those 
 of the third class, who had but two hundred measures, were 
 called Zeugitce . The rest were named Thetes , and not admit¬ 
 ted to any office; they had only a right to appear and give their 
 vote in the general assembly of the people. This seemed at 
 first but a slight privilege, but afterwards showed itself a mat¬ 
 ter of great importance; for most causes came at last to be de¬ 
 cided by them; and in such matters as were under the cogni¬ 
 zance of the magistrates, there lay an appeal to the people. 
 Besides, he is said to have drawn up his laws in an obscure 
 and ambiguous manner, on purpose to enlarge the authority 
 of the popular tribunal; for as they could not adjust their dif¬ 
 ference by the letter of the law, they were obliged to have re¬ 
 course to living judges; I mean the whole body of citizens, 
 who, therefore, had all controversies brought before them, and 
 were in a manner superior to the laws. Of this equality, he 
 himself takes notice in these words:— 
 
 By me the people held their native rights 
 Uninjur’d, unoppress’d—The great restrain’d 
 From lawless violence, and the poor from rapine. 
 
 By me, their mutual shield. 
 
 Desirous yet farther to strengthen the common people, he em¬ 
 powered any man whatever to enter an action for one that was 
 injured. If a person was assaulted, or suffered damage or 
 violence, another that was able and willing to do it might pro¬ 
 secute the offender. Thus the lawgiver wisely accustomed 
 the citizens, as members of one body, to feel and to resent one 
 another’s injuries. And we are told of a saying of his agreea- 
 
 * The Pentacosiomedimni paid a talent to the public treasury; the Hippoda 
 telountes, as the word signifies, were obliged to find ahorse, and to serve as 
 cavalry in the wars; the Zeugiix were so called, as being of a middle rank 
 between the knights and those of the lowest order (for rowers who have the 
 middle bench between the Thalamites and the Thranites, are called Zeugitae ); 
 and though the Thetes had barely each a vote in the general assemblies, yet 
 that (as Plutarch observes) appeared in time to be a great privilege, most 
 causes being brought by appeal before the people. 
 
SOLON. 
 
 184 
 
 ble to this law; being asked ,— 66 What city was best model- 
 led?” he answered ;— u That, where those who are not injured, 
 are no less ready to prosecute and punish offenders, than those 
 who are.” 
 
 When these points were ad justed, he established the council 
 of the areopagus ,* which was to consist of such as had borne 
 the office of archon ,t and himself was one of the number. But 
 observing that the people, now discharged from their debts, 
 grew insolent and imperious, he proceeded to constitute ano¬ 
 ther council or senate, of four hundred, % a hundred out of 
 each tribe, by whom all affairs were to be previously consider¬ 
 ed; and ordered that no matter, without their approbation, 
 should be laid before the general assembly In the mean time, 
 the high court of the areopagus were to be the inspectors and 
 guardians of the laws. Thus he supposed the commonwealth, 
 secured by two councils, as by two anchors, would be less lia¬ 
 ble to be shaken by tumults, and the people would become 
 
 * The court of areopagus , though settled long before, had lost much of its 
 power by Draco’s preferring the ephetae. In ancient times, and till Solon 
 became legislator, it consisted of such persons as were most conspicuous in 
 the state for their wealth, power, and probity; but Solon made it a rule, that 
 such only should have a seat in it as had borne the office of arclion. This 
 had the effect he designed; it raised the reputation of the areopagites very 
 high, and rendered their decrees so venerable, that none contested or re¬ 
 pined at them through a long course of ages. 
 
 f After the extinction of the race of the Medontidae, the Athenians made 
 the office of arclion annual; and instead of one, they created nine archons. 
 By the latter expedient, they provided against the too great power of a sin¬ 
 gle person, as by the former they took away all apprehension of the archom 
 setting up for sovereigns. In one word, they attained now what they had 
 long sought—the making their supreme magistrate dependent on the people. 
 This remarkable era of the completion of the Athenian democracy was, ac¬ 
 cording to the Marmora , in the first year of the xxivth Olympiad, before 
 Christ 684. That these magistrates might, however, retain sufficient autho¬ 
 rity and dignity, they had high titles and great honours annexed to their of¬ 
 fices. The first was styled, by way of eminence, the Archon , and the year 
 was distinguished by his name. The second was called Basileus , that is, king; 
 for they chose to have that title considered as a secondary one. This officer 
 had the care of religion. The third had the name of Polemarch , for war was 
 his particular province. The other six had the title of ThesmoihcLf, , and 
 were considered as the guardians of their laws. These archons continued 
 till the time of the emperor Gallienus. 
 
 t The number of tribes was increased by Callisthenes to ten, pfter he had 
 driven out the Pisistratidae; and then this senate consisted of five hundred, 
 fifty being chosen out of each tribe, Towards the close of the year, the 
 president of each tribe gave in a list of candidates, out of whom the sena¬ 
 tors were elected by lot. The senators then appointed the officers called 
 prytanes . The prytanes, while the senate consisted of 500, were 50 in 
 number; and, for the avoiding of confusion, ten of these presided a week, 
 during which space they were called proedri , and out of them an cpistates 
 or president, was chosen, whose office lasted but one day. 
 
SOLON. 
 
 135 
 
 more orderly and peaceable. Most writers, as we have ob¬ 
 served, affirm, that the council of the areopagus was of Solon’s 
 appointing; and it seems greatly to confirm their assertion, 
 that Draco has made no mention of the areopagites , but in 
 capital causes constantly addresses himself to the ephetse; yet 
 the eighth law of Solon’s thirteenth table is set down in these 
 very words:—“Whoever were declared infamous before So¬ 
 lon’s archonship, let them be restored in honour, except such 
 as having been condemned in the areopagus, or by the ephetse, 
 or by the kings in the Prytaneum, for murder or robbery, or 
 attempting to usurp the government, had fled their country 
 before this law was made. ” This on the contrary shows, that 
 before Solon was chief magistrate, and delivered his laws, the 
 council of the areopagus was in being; for who could have been 
 condemned in the areopagus before Solon’s time, if he was the 
 first that erected it into a court of judicature? Unless, perhaps, 
 there be some obscurity or deficiency in the text, and the 
 meaning be, that such as have been convicted of crimes that 
 are now cognizable before the areopagites , the ephetse* and 
 prytanes , shall continue infamous, while others are restored. 
 But this I submit to the judgment of the reader. 
 
 The most peculiar and surprising of his other laws, is that 
 which declares the man infamous who stands neuter in time 
 of sedition, t It seems, he would not have us be indifferent 
 and unaffected with the fate of the public, when our own con¬ 
 cerns are upon a safe bottom; nor when we are in health, be 
 insensible to the distempers and griefs of our country. He 
 would have us espouse the better and juster cause, and hazard 
 every thing in defence of it, rather than wait in safety to see 
 which side the victory will incline to. That law, too, seems 
 quite ridiculous and absurd, which permits a rich heiress, 
 whose husband happens to be impotent, to console herself 
 
 * The ephetse were first appointed in the reign of Demophon, the son of 
 Theseus, for the trying of wilful murders, and cases of manslaughter. They 
 consisted at first of fifty Athenians, and as many Argives; but Draco exclu¬ 
 ded the Argives, and ordered that it should be composed of fifty-one Athe¬ 
 nians, who were all to be turned of fifty years of age. He also fixed their 
 authority above that of the areopagites; but Solon brought them under that 
 court, and limited their jurisdiction. 
 
 j- Aulus Gellius, who has preserved the very words of this law, adcs, that 
 one who so stood neuter, should lose his houses, his country, and estate, and 
 be sent out an exile.— Nod. Attic . 1. ii c. 12. 
 
 Plutarch, in another place condemns this law; but Gellius highly com¬ 
 mends it, and assigns this reason:—The wise and just, as well as the envious 
 and wicked, being obliged to choose some side, matters were easily accom¬ 
 modated; whereas, if the latter only, as is generally the case with other 
 cities had the management of factions, they would, for private reasons, It 
 continually kept up, to the great hurt, if not the utter ruin, of the state 
 
 Vol. I. -2 C 
 
186 
 
 SOLOX 
 
 with his nearest relations. Yet some say, this law was very 
 properly levelled against those, who, conscious of their own 
 inability, match with heiresses for the sake of the portion, and, 
 under colour of law, do violence to nature. For when they 
 know that such heiresses may make choice of others to grant 
 their favours to, they will either let those matches alone, or, 
 if they do marry in that manner, they must suffer the shame 
 cf their avarice and dishonesty. It is right, that the heiress 
 should not have liberty to choose at large, but only amongst 
 her husband’s relations, that the child which is born may, at 
 least, belong to his kindred and family. Agreeable to this is 
 the direction, that the bride and bridegroom should be shut up 
 together, and eat of the same quince;* and that the husband of 
 an heiress should approach her at least three times in a month. 
 For, though they may happen net to have children, yet it is a 
 mark of honour and regard due from a man to the chastity of 
 his wife; it removes many uneasinesses; and prevents differen¬ 
 ces from proceeding to an absolute breach. 
 
 In all other marriages, he ordered that no dowries should be 
 given; the bride was to bring with her only three suits of 
 clothes, and some household stuff of small value, t For he did 
 not choose that marriages should be made with mercenary oi 
 venal views, but would have that union cemented by the en 
 dearment of children, and every other instance of love and 
 friendship. Nay, Dionysius himself, when his mother desired 
 to be married to a young Syracusan, told her,—“He had, in 
 deed, by his tyranny, broke through the laws of his country, 
 but he could not break those of nature, by countenancing so dis- 
 proportioned a match.” And, surely, such disorders should 
 not be tolerated in any state, nor such matches, where there is 
 no equality of years, or inducements of love, or probability 
 that the end of marriage will be answered. So that to an old 
 man who marries a young woman, some prudent magistrate or 
 lawgiver might express himself in the words addressed to Phi 
 loctetes:— 
 
 Poor soul! how fit art thou to marry! 
 
 And if he found a young man in the house of a rich old wo¬ 
 man, like a partridge, growing fat in his private services, he 
 would remove him to some young virgin who wanted a hus 
 band. But enough of this. 
 
 * The eating’of* the quince, which was not peculiar to an heiress and her 
 husband (for all new married people ate it,) implied that their discourses 
 ought to be pleasant to each other, that fruit making the breath sweet. 
 
 | The bride brought with her an earthen pan, called phrogeteon , wherein 
 barley was parched; to signify that she undertook the business of the house, 
 and would do her part towards providing for the family. 
 
SOLON. 
 
 18? 
 
 That law of Solon’s is also justly commended, which forbids 
 men to speak ill of the dead. For piety requires us to consi¬ 
 der the deceased as sacred; justice calls upon us to spare those 
 that are not in being; and good policy, to prevent the per¬ 
 petuating of hatred. He forbade his people also to revile the 
 living, in a temple, in a court of justice, in the great assembly 
 of the people, or at the public games. He that offended in 
 this respect, was to pay three drachmas to the person injured, and 
 two to the public. Never to restrain anger is, indeed, a proof 
 of weakness or want of breeding; and always to guard against 
 it, is very difficult, and to some persons impossible. Now, 
 what is enjoined by law should be practicable, if the legislator 
 desires to punish a few to some good purpose, and not many to 
 no purpose. 
 
 His law concerning wills has likewise its merit. For be¬ 
 fore his time the Athenians were not allowed to dispose of 
 their estates by will; the houses and other substance of the de¬ 
 ceased were to remain among his relations. But he permitted 
 any one, that had not children, to leave his possessions to 
 whom he pleased; thus preferring the tie of friendship to that 
 of kindred, and choice to necessity, he gave every man the 
 full and free disposal of his own. Yet he allowed not all sorts 
 of legacies, but those only that were not extorted by phrenzy, 
 the consequence of disease or poisons, by imprisonment or 
 violence, or the persuasions of a wife. For he considered in¬ 
 ducements, that operated against reason, as no better than 
 force; to be deceived, was with him the same thing as to be 
 compelled; and he looked upon pleasure to be as great a per- 
 verter as pain. * 
 
 He regulated, moreover, the journeys of women, their 
 mournings and sacrifices, and endeavoured to keep them clear 
 of all disorder and excess. They were not to go out of town 
 with more than three habits; the provisions they carried with 
 them were not to exceed the value of an ohulus , their basket 
 was not to be above a cubit high; and in the night they were 
 not to travel but in a carriage, with a torch before them. At 
 funerals, they were forbid to tear themselves,! and no hired 
 
 * He likewise ordained, that adopted persons should make no will; but 
 as soon as they had children lawfully begotten, they w T ere at liberty to re¬ 
 turn into the family whence they were adopted: or if they continued in it 
 to their death, the estates reverted to the relations of the persons who 
 adopted them.— Demost. in Or at. Lcptin . 
 
 + Demosthenes ('in Timocr.J recites Solon’s directions as to funerals as 
 follows:—“Let the dead bodies be laid out in the house according* as the 
 deceased g*ave order, and the day following*, before sun-rise, carried forth. 
 Whilst the body is carrying* to the g*rave, let the men g*o before, the women 
 follow. It shall not he lawful for any woman to enter upon the goods of the 
 
188 
 
 SOLON. 
 
 mourner was to utter lamentable notes, or to act any thing else 
 that tended to excite sorrow. They were not permitted to 
 sacrifice an ox on those occasions; or to bury more than three 
 garments with the body; or to visit any tombs beside those of 
 their own family, except at the time of interment. Most of 
 these things are likewise forbidden by our laws, with the addi¬ 
 tion of this circumstance, that those who offend in such a man¬ 
 ner, are fined by the censors of the women, as giving way to 
 weak passions and childish sorrow. 
 
 As the city was filled with persons, who assembled from all 
 parts, on account of the great security in which people lived 
 in Attica, Solon observing this, and that the country withal 
 was poor and barren, and that merchants who traffic by sea do 
 not use to import their goods where they can have nothing in 
 exchange, turned the attention of the citizens to manufactures. 
 For this purpose he made a law, that no son should be obliged 
 to maintain his father, if he had not taught him a trade.* As 
 for Lycurgus, whose city was clear of strangers, and whose 
 country, according to Euripides, was sufficient for twice the 
 number of inhabitants; where there was, moreover, a multi 
 tude of Helotes , who were not only to be kept constantly em 
 ployed, but to be humbled and worn out by servitude, it was 
 right for him to set the citizens free from laborious and me 
 chanic arts, and to employ them in arms, as the only art fit 
 for them to learn and exercise. But Solon, rather adapting 
 his laws to the state of his country, than his country to his 
 laws, and perceiving that the soil of Attica, which hardly re¬ 
 warded the husbandman’s labour, was far from being capable 
 of maintaining a lazy multitude, ordered that trades should 
 be accounted honourable; that the council of the areopagus 
 should examine into every man’s means of subsisting, and 
 chastise the idle. 
 
 But that law was more rigid, which, (as Heraclides of Poti- 
 tus informs us) excused bastards from relieving their fathers. 
 Nevertheless, the man that disregards so honourable a state as 
 marriage, does not take a woman for the sake of children, but 
 merely to indulge his appetite. He has therefore his rewards; 
 and there remains no pretence for him to upbraid those chil¬ 
 dren, w 7 hose very birth he has made a reproach to them. 
 
 In truth, his laws concerning women, in general, appear 
 
 dead, and to follow the body to the gTave under threescore years of ag*e, 
 except such as are within the degrees of cousins/’ 
 
 # He that was thrice convicted of idleness was to be declared infamous. 
 Herodotus (1. vii.) and Diodorus Siculus (1. i.) agTee that a law of this 
 kind was in use in Egypt. It is probable, therefore, that Solon, who was 
 thoroughly acquainted with the learning of that nation, borrowed it from 
 them. 
 
SOLON. 
 
 18v 
 
 very absurd; for he permitted any one to kill an adulterer 
 taken in the fact;* but if a man committed a rape upon a free 
 woman, he was only to be fined a hundred drachmas; if he 
 gained his purpose by persuasion, twenty; but prostitutes were 
 excepted, because they have their price. And he would not 
 allow them to sell a daughter or sister, unless she were taken 
 in an act of dishonour before marriage. But to punish the 
 same fault sometimes in a severe and rigorous manner, and 
 sometimes lightly and as it were in sport, with a trivial fine, is 
 not agreeable to reason, unless the scarcity of money in Athens 
 at that time, made a pecuniary mulct a heavy one. And, in¬ 
 deed, in the valuation of things for the sacrifice, a sheep and a 
 medimnus of corn were reckoned each at a drachma only. To 
 the victor in the Isthmian games, he appointed a reward of a 
 hundred drachmas; and to the victor in the Olympian, five hun¬ 
 dred.! He that caught a he-wolf, was to have five drachmas; 
 he that took a she-wolf, one: and the former sum (as Demetri 
 us Phalereus asserts) was the value of an ox, the latter of a 
 sheep. Though the prices which he fixes, in his sixteenth ta¬ 
 ble, for select victims, were probably much higher than the 
 common, yet they are small in comparison of the present. 
 The Athenians of old were great enemies to wolves, because 
 their country was better for pasture than tillage; and some say 
 their tribes had not their names from the sons of Ion, but from 
 the different occupations they followed; the soldiers being call¬ 
 ed hoplitse , the artificers ergades; and of the other two the hus¬ 
 bandmen teleontes , and the graziers segicorcs. 
 
 As Attica was not supplied with water from perennial rivers, 
 lakes, or springs,! but chiefly by wells dug for that purpose, 
 he made a law, that where there was a public well, all within 
 the distance of four furlongs should make use of it; but where 
 the distance was greater, they were to provide a well of their 
 own. And if they dug ten fathoms deep in their own ground, 
 and could find no water, they had liberty to fill a vessel of 
 six gallons twice a day at their neighbour’s. Thus he thought 
 it proper to assist persons in real necessity, but not to encour¬ 
 age idleness. His regulations with respect to the planting of 
 
 * No adulteress was to adorn herself, or to assist at the public sacrifices, 
 and in case she did, he gave liberty to any one to tear her clothes off' her 
 back, and beat her into the bargain. 
 
 f At the same time he contracted the rewards bestowed upon wrestlers, 
 esteeming such gratuities useless, and even dangerous; as they tended to 
 encourage idleness, by putting men upon wasting that time in exercises, 
 which ought to be spent in providing for their families. 
 
 + Strabo tells us there was a spring of fresh water near the Lycaeum; buJ 
 the soil of Attica in general was dry, and the rivers Ilissus and Eridamus 
 did not run constantly. 
 
 18 
 
190 
 
 SOLON. 
 
 trees were also very judicious. He that planted any tree in 
 his field, was to place it at least five feet from his neighbour’s 
 ground; and if it was a fig-tree or an olive, nine; for these ex¬ 
 tend their roots farther than others, and their neighbourhood 
 is prejudicial to some trees, not only as they take away the 
 nourishment, but as their effluvia is noxious. He that wou.d 
 dig a pit or a ditch, was to dig it as far from another man’s 
 ground as it was deep; and if any one would raise stocks of 
 bees, he was to place them three hundred feet from those al¬ 
 ready raised by another. 
 
 Of all the products of the earth, he allowed none to be sold 
 to strangers but oil; and whoever presumed to export any 
 thing else, the archon was solemnly to declare him accursed, 
 or to pay himself a hundred drachmas into the public treasury. 
 This law is in the first table. And therefore it is not abso¬ 
 lutely improbable, what some affirm, that the exportation of 
 figs was formerly forbidden, and that the informer against the 
 delinquents was called a sycophant. 
 
 He likewise enacted a law for reparation of damage received 
 from beasts. A dog that had bit a man was to be delivered 
 up bound to a log of four cubits long;* an agreeable contri 
 vance for security against such an animal. 
 
 But the wisdom of the law concerning the naturalizing of 
 foreigners is a little dubious; because it forbids the freedom of 
 the city to be granted to any but such as are forever exiled 
 from their own country, or transplant themselves to Athens 
 with their whole family, for the sake of exercising some ma¬ 
 nual trade. This, we are told, he did, not with a view to keep 
 strangers at a distance, but rather to invite them to Athens, 
 upon the sure hope of being admitted to the privilege of citi¬ 
 zens; and he imagined the settlement of those might be entire¬ 
 ly depended upon, who had been driven from their native 
 country, or had quitted it by choice. 
 
 That law is peculiar to Solon, which regulates the going to 
 entertainments made at the public charge, by him called para - 
 sitein .t For he does not allow the same person to repair to 
 
 * This law, and several others of Solon, were taken into the twelve Loles. 
 In the consulate of T. Romilius and C. Veturius, in the year of Rome, 293, 
 the Romans sent deputies to Athens, to transcribe his laws, and those of 
 the other lawgivers of Greece, in order to form thereby a body of laws for 
 Rome. 
 
 ■f In the first ages the name of parasite was venerable and sacred, for it 
 properly signified one that was a messmate at the table of sacrifices. There 
 were in Greece several persons particularly honoured with this title, much 
 like those whom the Romans called epulones , a religious order instituted by 
 Numa. Solon ordained that every tribe should offer a sacrifice once a month, 
 and at the end of the sacrifice make a public entertainmert, at nhich all 
 *vho wsre of that tribe should be obliged to assist by turns. 
 
SOLON. 
 
 191 
 
 them often; and he lays a penalty upon such as refuse to gc 
 when invited; looking upon the former as a mark of epicurism, 
 and the latter of contempt of the public. 
 
 All his laws were to continue in force for a hundred years, 
 and were written upon wooden tables, which might be turned 
 round in the oblong cases that contained them. Some small 
 remains of them are preserved in the Prytanium to this day. 
 They were called cyrbes , as Aristotle tells us; and C rati nits the 
 comic poet, thus spoke of them:— 
 
 By the great names of Solon and of Draco, 
 
 Whose cyrbes now but serve to boil our pulse. 
 
 Some say, those tables were properly called cyrbes , on which 
 were written the rules for religious rites and sacrifices, and the 
 other axones, The senate, in a body, bound themselves by 
 oath to establish the laws of Solon; and the thesmothetse , or 
 guardians of the laws, severally took an oath in a particular 
 form, by the stone in the market-place, that for every law they 
 broke, each would dedicate a golden statue at Delphi of the 
 same weight with himself.* 
 
 Observing the irregularity of the months,! and that the moon 
 neither rose nor set at the same time with the sun, as it often 
 happened that in the same day she overtook and passed by 
 him, he ordered that the day be called hene kai nea (the old 
 and the new;) assigning the part of it before the conjunction 
 to the old month, and the rest to the beginning of the new 
 He seems, therefore, to have been the first who understood 
 
 * Gold, in Solon’s time, was so scarce in Greece, that when the Spartans 
 were ordered by the oracle to gild the face of Apollo’s statue, they inquir¬ 
 ed in vain for gold all over Greece, and were directed by the pythoness to 
 buy some of Croesus, king* of Lydia. 
 
 f Solon discovered the falseness of Thales’s maxim, that the moon pel 
 formed her revolution in thirty days, and found that the true time was twen¬ 
 ty-nine days and a half. He directed, therefore, that each of the twelve 
 months should be accounted twenty-nine or thirty days alternately. By 
 this means a lunar year was formed of 354 days; and to reconcile it to the 
 solar year, he ordered a month of twenty-two days to be intercalated every 
 two years, and at the end of the second two years, he directed that a month 
 of twenty-three days should be intercalated. He likewise engaged the 
 Athenians to divide their months into three parts, s/y'.ed the beginning, 
 tnid:lle, and ending; each of these consisted of ten days, when the monlh 
 . was thirty days long, and the last of nine, when it was nine-and-twenty days 
 long. In speaking of the two first parts, they reckoned according to the 
 usual order of numbers, viz . the first, &c. day of the moon, beginning; tne 
 first, second, &c. of the moon, middle; but with respect to the last part o; 
 the month, they reckoned backwards, that is, instead of saying, the first, 
 second, &c. day of the moon, ending, they said, the tenth, ninth, &c. ol 
 the moon, ending. This is a circumstance which should be carefully attend, 
 ed to. 
 
SOLON. 
 
 J9 i 
 
 that verse in Homer, which makes mention of a day wherein 
 < the old month ended, and the new began. 
 
 The day following he called the new moon. After the twen¬ 
 tieth he counted not by adding, but subtracting, to the thirti¬ 
 eth, according to the decreasing phases of the moon. 
 
 When his laws took place ;t Solon had his visiters every day, 
 finding fault with some of them, and commending others, or 
 advising him to make certain additions or retrenchments. But 
 the greater part came to desire a reason for this or that article* 
 or a clear and precise explication of the meaning and design 
 Sensible that he could not well excuse himself from comply 
 ing with their desires, and that if he indulged their importu 
 nity, the doing it might give offence, he determined to with¬ 
 draw from the difficulty, and to get rid at once of their cavil? 
 and exceptions; for, as he himself observes, 
 
 Not all the greatest enterprise can please. 
 
 Under pretence therefore of traffic, he set sail for another 
 country, having obtained leave of the Athenians for ten years 
 absence. In that time he hoped his laws would become fami¬ 
 liar to them. 
 
 His first voyage was to Egypt, where he abode some time, 
 as he himself relates, 
 
 On the Canopian shore, by Nile’s deep mouth. 
 
 There he conversed upon points of philosophy, with Pseno 
 phis the Heliopolitan, and Senchis the SaTte, the most learned 
 of the Egyptian priests; and having an account from them of 
 
 * Odyss. xiv. 162. 
 
 -j- Plutarch has only mentioned such of Solon’s laws as he thought the 
 most singular and remarkable: Diogenes Laertius, and Demosthenes have 
 given us an account of some others that ought not to be forgotten:—“Let 
 not the guardian live in the same house with the mother of his wards. Let 
 not the tuition of minors be committed to him who is next after them in the 
 inheritance. Let not an engraver keep the impression of a seal which he 
 has engraved. Let him that puts out the eye of a man who has but one, 
 lose both his own. If an archon is taken in liquor, let him be put to death. 
 Let him who refuses to maintain his father and mother, be infamous; and so 
 let him that has consumed his patrimony. Let him who refuses to go to 
 war, flies, or behaves cowardly, be debarred the precincts of the forum , 
 and places of public worship. If a man surprises his wife in adultery, and 
 lives with her afterwards, let him be deemed infamous. Let him who 
 frequents the houses of lewd women, be debarred from speaking in the 
 assemblies of the people. Let a pander be pursued, and put to death if 
 taken. If any man steal in the day-time, let him be carried to the eleven 
 officers: if in the night, it shall be lawful to kill him in the act, or to wound 
 him in the pursuit, and carry him to the aforesaid officers; if he steals com¬ 
 mon things, let him pay double, and, if the convictor thinks fit, be exposed 
 in chains five days; if he be guilty of sacrilege, let him be put to death.” 
 
SOLON. 
 
 195 
 
 the Atlantic Island,* (as Plato informs us) he attempted to de¬ 
 scribe it to the Grecians in a poem. From Egypt he sailed 
 to Cyprus, and there was honoured with the best regards of 
 Philocyprus, one of the kings of that island, who reigned over 
 a small city built by Demophon, the son of Theseus, near the 
 rivei* Clarius, in a strong situation indeed, but very indifferent 
 soil. As there was an agreeable plain below, Solon pursuaded 
 him to build a larger and pleasanter city there, and to remove 
 the inhabitants of the other to it. He also assisted in laying 
 out the whole, and building it in the best manner for conve¬ 
 nience and defence; so that Philocyprus in a short time had it 
 so well peopled, as to excite the envy of the other princes. 
 And therefore, though the former city was called Aipeia , yet, 
 in honour of Solon, he called the new one Soli. He himself 
 speaks of the building of this city, in his Elegies, addressing 
 himself to Philocyprus:— 
 
 For you be long the Solian throne decreed! 
 
 For you a race of prosperous sons succeed! 
 
 If in those scenes to her so justly dear. 
 
 My hand a blooming city help’d to rear, 
 
 May the sweet voice of smiling Venus bless. 
 
 And speed me home with honours and success! 
 
 As for his interview with Croesus, some pretend to prove 
 from chronology that it is fictitious. But since the story is so 
 famous, and so well attested, nay (what is more) so agreeable 
 to Solon’s character, so worthy of his wisdom and magna¬ 
 nimity, I can not prevail with myself to reject it for the sake of 
 certain chronological tables, which thousands are correcting to 
 this day, without being able to bring them to any certainty. 
 Solon, then, is said to have gone to Sardis, at the request of 
 Croesus; and when he came there, he was affected much in the 
 same manner as a person born in an inland country, when he 
 first goes to see the ocean; for as he takes every great river he 
 
 * Plato finished this history from Solon’s memoirs, as may be seen in his 
 Timscus and Critias. He pretends, that this Atlantis, an island situated in 
 the Atlantic ocean, was bigger than Asia and Africa: and that, notwithstand 
 ing its vast extent, it was drowned in one day and night. Diodorus Siculus 
 says, the Carthaginians, who discovered it, made it death for any one to set¬ 
 tle in it. Amidst a number of conjectures concerning it, one of the most 
 probable is, that in those days the Africans had some knowledge of America, 
 Another opinion worth mentioning is, that the Atlantides, or Fortunate islands 
 were what we now call the Canahes. Homer thus describes them:— 
 
 Stern winter smiles on that auspicious clime: 
 
 The fields are florid with unfading prime. 
 
 From the bleak pole no winds inclement blow. 
 
 Mould the round hail, or flake the fleecy snow: 
 
 But from the breezy deep the blest inhale 
 The fragrant murmurs of the western gale. 
 ol. i. -2D 18* 
 
 1*0 PF 
 
194 
 
 SOLON. 
 
 comes to for the sea, so Solon, as he passed through the couit. 
 and saw many of the nobility richly dressed, and walking in 
 great pomp amidst a crowd of attendants and guards, took 
 each of them for Croesus. At last, when he was conducted 
 into the presence, he found the king set off with whatever can 
 be imagined curious and valuable, either in beauty of colours, 
 elegance of golden ornaments, or splendour of jewels; in or¬ 
 der that the grandeur and variety of the scene might be as 
 striking as possible. Solon, standing over against the throne, 
 was not at all surprised, nor did he pay those compliments 
 that were expected; on the contrary, it was plain to all persons 
 of discernment, that he despised such vain ostentation and lit¬ 
 tleness of pride. Croesus then ordered his treasures to be 
 opened, and his magnificent apartments and furniture to be 
 shown him; but this was quite a needless trouble; for Solon, 
 in one view of the king, was able to read his character. When 
 he had seen all, and was conducted back, Croesus asked him, 
 “If he had ever beheld a happier man than he?” Solon an¬ 
 swered,—“He had; and that the person was one Tellus, a 
 plain but worthy citizen of Athens, who left valuable children 
 behind him; and who having been above the want of neces¬ 
 saries all his life, died gloriously fighting for his country.” 
 By this time he appeared to Croesus to be a strange, uncouth 
 kind of rustic, who did not measure happiness by the quantity 
 of gold and silver, but could prefer the life and death of a pri¬ 
 vate and mean person, to his high dignity and power. How¬ 
 ever, he asked him again,—“Whether after Tellus, he knew 
 another happier man in the world?” Solon answered,—“ yes, 
 Cleobis and Biton, famed for their brotherly affection, and 
 dutiful behaviour to their mother; for the oxen not being 
 ready, they put themselves in the harness, and drew their 
 mother to Juno’s temple, who was extremely happy in hav¬ 
 ing such sons, and moved forward amidst the blessings of the 
 people. After the sacrifice, they drank a cheerful cup with 
 their friends, and then laid down to rest, but rose no more; 
 for they died in the night without sorrow or pain, in the 
 midst of so much glory.” “ Well!” said Croesus, now highly 
 displeased, “and do you not then rank us in the number of hap¬ 
 py men!” Solon, unwillingeither to flatter him, or to exasperate 
 him more, replied,—“ King of Lydia, as God has given the 
 Greeks a moderate proportion of other things, so likewise he 
 has favoured them with a democratic spirit, and a liberal kind 
 of wisdom, which has no taste for the splendours of royalty. 
 Moreover, the vicissitudes of life suffer us not to be elated by 
 any present good fortune, or to admire that felicity which is 
 liable to change. Futurity carries for every man many vari¬ 
 ous and uncertain events in its bosom. He, therefore, whom 
 
SOLON. 
 
 195 
 
 heaven blesses with success to the last, is in our estimation the 
 happy man. But the happiness of him who still lives, and 
 has the dangers of life to encounter, appears to us no better 
 than that of a champion, before the combat is determined, and 
 while the crown is uncertain/ 5 With these words Solon de¬ 
 parted, leaving Croesus chagrined, but not instructed. 
 
 At that time JEsop the fabulist was at the court of Croesus, 
 who had sent for him, and caressed him not a little. He was 
 concerned at the unkind reception Solon met with, and there¬ 
 upon gave him this advice ,— U A man should either not con¬ 
 verse with kings at all, or say what is agreeable to them/ 5 To 
 which Solon replied,—“ Nay, but he should either not do it 
 at all, or say what is useful to them/ 5 
 
 Though Croesus at that time held our lawgiver in contempt, 
 yet when he was defeated in his wars with Cyrus, when his 
 city was taken, himself made prisoner, and laid bound upon 
 the pile, in order to be burnt, in the presence of Cyrus, and 
 all the Persians, he cried out as loud as he possibly could,— 
 “ Solon! Solon! Solon! 55 Cyrirs, surprised at this, sent to in¬ 
 quire of him,—“ What god or man it was, whom alone he thus 
 invoked under so great a calamity? 55 Croesus answered, with 
 out the least disguise,—“ He is one of the wise men of Greece, 
 whom I sent for, not with a design to hear his wisdom, or to 
 learn what might be of service to me, but that he might see 
 and extend the reputation of that glory, the loss of which I 
 find a much greater misfortune than the possession of it was a 
 blessing. My exalted state was only an exterior advantage, 
 the happiness of opinion; but the reverse plunges me into real 
 sufferings, and ends in misery irremediable. This was fore¬ 
 seen by that great man, who, forming a conjecture of the fu¬ 
 ture from what he then saw, advised me to consider the end 
 of life, and not to rely or grow insolent upon uncertainties/' 
 When this was told Cyrus, who was a much wiser man than 
 Croesus, finding Solon’s maxim confirmed by an example be¬ 
 fore him, he not only set Croesus at liberty, but honoured him 
 with his protection as long as he lived. Thus Solon had the 
 glory of saving the life of one of these kings, and of instruct¬ 
 ing the other. 
 
 During his absence, the Athenians were much divided 
 among themselves, Lycurgus being at the head of the low 
 country,* Megacles, the son of Alcmseon, of the people that 
 lived near the sea-coast, and Pisistratus of the mountaineers, 
 among which last was a multitude of labouring people, whose 
 enmity was chiefly levelled at the rich. Hence it was, that 
 
 * These three parties into which the Athenians were divided, viz. the Pedaei, 
 tlie Paiali, and Diacrh, have been mentioned in this life before. 
 
L96 
 
 SOLOX. 
 
 though the city did observe Solon’s laws, yet all expected 
 some change, and were desirous of another establishment; 
 not in hopes of an equality, but with a view to be gainers by 
 the alteration, and entirely to subdue those that differed from 
 them. 
 
 While matters stood thus, Solon arrived at Athens, where 
 he was received with great respect, and still held in veneration 
 by all; but, by reason of his great age, he had neither the 
 strength nor spirit to act or speak in public as he had done. 
 He, therefore, applied in private to the heads of the factions, 
 and endeavoured to appease and reconcile them. Pisistratus 
 seemed to give him greater attention than the rest; for Pisis- 
 tratus had an affable and engaging manner. He was a liberal 
 benefactor to the poor;* and even to his enemies he behaved 
 with great candour. He counterfeited so dexterously the 
 good qualities which nature had denied him, that he gained 
 more credit than the real possessors of them, and stood fore* 
 most in the public esteem, in point of moderation and equity, 
 in zeal for the present government, and aversion to all that 
 endeavoured at a change. With these arts he imposed upon 
 the people; but Solon soon discovered his real character, and 
 was the first to discern his insidious designs. Yet he did not 
 absolutely break with him, but endeavoured to soften him, and 
 advise him better; declaring both to him and others, that if 
 ambition could but be banished from his soul, and he could be 
 cured of his desire of absolute power, there would not be a 
 man better disposed, or a more worthy citizen in Athens. 
 
 About this time, Thespis began to change the form of 
 tragedy, and the novelty of the thing attracted many specta¬ 
 tors; for this was before any prize was proposed for those that 
 excelled in this respect. Solon, who was always willing to 
 hear and to learn, and in his old age more inclined to any 
 thing that might divert and entertain, particularly to music 
 and good fellowship, went to see Thespis himself exhibit, as 
 the custom of the ancient poets was. When the play was done, 
 he called to Thespis, and asked him ,— 66 If he was not asham¬ 
 ed to tell so many lies before so great an assembly?” Thespis 
 answered ,— u It was no great matter, if he spoke or acted sc 
 in jest.” To which Solon replied, striking the ground vio- 
 lentlv with his staff,—“ If we encourage such jesting as this, 
 we shall quickly find it in our contracts and agreements.” 
 
 * By the poor we are not to understand such as asked alms, for there 
 were none such at Athens.—“ In those days,” says Isocrates, “ there was no 
 citizen that died of want, or begged in the streets, to the dishonour of the 
 community.” This was owing to the laws against idleness and prodigality, 
 and the care which the areopagus took that every man should have a visible 
 livelihood. 
 
SOLON. 
 
 197 
 
 koon after this, Pisistratus, having wounded himself for the 
 purpose, drove in that condition into the market-place, and 
 endeavoured to inflame the minds of the people, by telling 
 them his enemies had laid in wait for him, and treated him in 
 that manner on account of his patriotism. Upon this the mul¬ 
 titude loudly expressed their indignation; but Solon came up, 
 and thus accosted him :— 66 Son of Hippocrates, you act Ho¬ 
 mer’s Ulysses but very indifferently; tor he wounded himself 
 to deceive his enemies, but you have done it to impose upon 
 your countrymen.” Notwithstanding this, the rabble were 
 ready to take up arms for him; and a general assembly of the 
 people being summoned, Ariston made a motion that a body¬ 
 guard of fifty clubmen should be assigned him. Solon stood 
 up and opposed it with many arguments, of the same kind 
 with those he has left us in his poems:— 
 
 You hang 1 with rapture on his honey’d tongue. 
 
 And again,— 
 
 Your art, to public interest ever blind. 
 
 Your fox-like art still centres in yourself. 
 
 But when he saw the poor behave in a riotous manner, anu 
 determined to gratify Pisistratus at any rate, while the rich, 
 out of fear, declined the opposition, he retired with this de¬ 
 claration, that he had shown more wisdom than the former, in 
 discerning what method should have been taken; and more 
 courage than the latter, who did not want understanding, but 
 spirit to oppose the establishment of a tyrant. The people 
 having made the decree, did not curiously inquire into the 
 number of guards which Pisistratus employed, but visibly con¬ 
 nived at his keeping as many as he pleased, till he seized the 
 citadel. When this was done, and the city in great confusion, 
 Megacles, with the rest of the Alcmseonidae, immediately took 
 to flight. But Solon though he was now very old, and had 
 none to second him, appeared in public, and addressed him¬ 
 self to the citizens, sometimes upbraiding them with their past 
 indiscretion and cowardice, sometimes exhorting and encou¬ 
 raging them to stand up for their liberty. Then it was that 
 he spoke those memorable words,—“ It would have been easier 
 for them to repress the advances of tyranny, and prevent its 
 establishment; but now it was established, and grown to some 
 height, it would be more glorious to demolish it.” However, 
 finding that their faars prevented their attention to what he 
 said, he returned to his own house, and placed his weapons at 
 the street door, with these words,—“I have done all in my 
 power to defend my country and its laws.” This was his last 
 
198 
 
 SOLON. 
 
 public effort. Though some exhorted him to fly, he tools no 
 notice of their advice, but was composed enough to make 
 verses, in which he thus reproaches the Athenians:— 
 
 If fear or folly has your rights betray’d. 
 
 Let not the fault on righteous heav’n be laid; 
 
 You gave them guards, you rais’d your tyrants high, 
 
 T’ impose the heavy yoke that draws the heaving sigh. 
 
 Many of his friends, alarmed at this, told him the tyrant 
 would certainly put him to death for it, and asked him what 
 he trusted to, that he went such imprudent lengths? He an¬ 
 swered,—“To old age.” However, when Pisistratus had 
 fully established himself, he made his court to Solon, and 
 treated him with so much kindness and respect, that Solon be¬ 
 came as it were his counsellor, and gave sanction to many of 
 his proceedings. He observed the greatest part of Solon’s 
 laws, showing himself the example, and obliging his friends 
 to follow it. Thus, when he was accused of murder before 
 the court of areopagus , he appeared in a modest manner to make 
 his defence; but his accuser dropped the impeachment. He 
 likewise added other laws, one of which was, that “ persons 
 maimed in the wars should be maintained at the public charge.” 
 Yet this, Heraclides tells us, was in pursuance of Solon’s plan, 
 who had decreed the same in the case of Thersippus. But, 
 according to Theophrastus, Pisistratus, not Solon, made the 
 law against idleness, which produced at once greater industry 
 in the country, and tranquillity in the city. 
 
 Solon, moreover, attempted in verse a large description, or 
 rather fabulous account of the Atlantic island,* which he had 
 learned of the wise men of Sais, and which particularly con¬ 
 cerned the Athenians; but by reason of his age, not want of 
 leisure (as Plato would have it), he was apprehensive the work 
 would be too much for him, and therefore did not go through 
 v.ith it. These verses are a proof that business was not the 
 hindrance:— 
 
 I grow in learning as I grow in years. 
 
 A nd again:— 
 
 Wine, wit, and beauty still their charms bestow, 
 
 Light all the shades of life, and cheer us as we go, 
 
 Plato, ambitious to cultivate and adorn the subject of the At¬ 
 lantic island, as a delightful spot in some fair field unoccupied, 
 
 * This fable imported, that the people of Atlantis, having subdued all Lybia 
 and a great part of Europe, threatened Egypt and Greece; but the Athenians 
 making head against their victorious army, overthrew them in several en¬ 
 gagements, and confined them to their own island. 
 
SOLON. 
 
 199 
 
 to which also he had some claim, by his being related to So 
 Ion,* laid out magnificent courts and enclosures, and erected 
 a grand entrance to it, such as no other story, fable or poem 
 ever had. But as he began it late, he ended his life before the 
 work; so that the more the reader is delighted with the part 
 that is written, the more regret he has to find it unfinished. 
 As the temple of Jupiter Olympius in Athens is the only one 
 that has not the last hand put to it, so the wisdom of Plato, 
 amcngst his many excellent works, has left nothing imperfect 
 but the Atlantic island. 
 
 Heraclides Ponticus relates that Solon lived a considerable 
 time after Pisistratus usurped the government; but according 
 to Phanias the Ephesian, not quite two years: for Pisistratus 
 began his tyranny in the archonship of Comias; and Phanias 
 tells us Solon died in the archonship of Hegestratus, the im¬ 
 mediate successor to Comias. The story of his ashest being 
 scattered about the isle of Salamis, appears absurd and fabu¬ 
 lous; and yet it is related by several authors of credit, and by 
 Aristotle in particular. 
 
 * Plato’s mother was a descendant of the brother of Solon. 
 
 -f- It is said by Diogenes Laertius, that this was done by his own order. In 
 thus disposing of his remains, either Solon himself ear those who wrote his 
 history, imitated the story of Lycurgus, who left an express order that his 
 ashes should be thrown into the sea. 
 
THE 
 
 LIFE OF PUBLICOLA. 
 
 Mjch is the character of Solon; and therefore with him wo 
 will compare Publicola, so called by the Roman people, in 
 acknowledgment of his merit; for his paternal name was 
 Valerius. He was descended from that ancient Valerius,* * * § 
 who was the principal author of the union between the Ro¬ 
 mans and the Sabines; for he it was that most effectually per¬ 
 suaded the two kings to come to a conference, and to settle 
 their differences. From this man our Valerius deriving his 
 extraction, distinguished himself by his eloquence and riches,t 
 even while Rome was yet under kingly government. His 
 eloquence he employed with great propriety and spirit in de¬ 
 fence of justice, and his riches in relieving the necessitous. 
 Hence it was natural to conclude, that if the government 
 should become republican^ his station in it would soon be 
 one of the most eminent. 
 
 When Tarquin the Proud, who had made his way to the 
 throne, by the violation of all rights, § divine and human, and 
 then exercised his power as he acquired it; when, like an op¬ 
 pressor and a tyrant, he became odious and insupportable to 
 the people; they took occasion to revolt, from the unhappy 
 fate of Lucretia, who killed herself on account of the rape 
 committed upon her by the son of Tarquin;|| Lucius Brutus, 
 
 * The first of his family, who settled at Rome, was Valerius Volesus, a 
 Sabine; or, as Festus and the fasti Capitolini call him, Velusus. 
 
 ■j- Plutarch by this would insinuate, that arbitrary power is no friend to 
 eloquence. And undoubtedly the want of liberty does depress the spirit, 
 and restrain the force of genius: whereas, in republics and limited monar¬ 
 chies, full scope is given, as well as many occasions afforded, to the richest 
 vein of oratory. 
 
 t Governments, as well as other things, pushed to excessive lengths, 
 often change to the contrary extreme. 
 
 § He made use of the body of his father-in-law, Servius Tullius, whom he 
 had murdered, as a step to the throne. 
 
 11 Livy tells us, that she desired her father and husband to meet her at 
 her own house. With her father Lucretius came Publius Valerius, after¬ 
 wards Publicola. and with her husband Lucius Junius Brutus, and many 
 other Romans of distinction. To them she disclosed in few words the 
 whole matter, declared her firm resolution not to outlive the loss of her ho- 
 
PUBLICOLA. 
 
 201 
 
 meditating a change of government, applied to Valerius firs 4 
 and with nis powerful assistance, expelled the king and his 
 family. Indeed, while the people seemed inclined to give 
 one person the chief command, and to set up a general instead 
 of a king, Valerius acquiesced, and willingly yielded the first 
 place to Brutus, under whose auspices the republic commenced. 
 But when it appeared that they could not bear the thought of 
 being governed by a single person, when they seemed more 
 ready to obey a divided authority, and indeed proposed and 
 demanded to have two consuls at the head of the state, then he 
 offered himself as a candidate for that high office, together 
 with Brutus, but lost his election; for, contrary to Brutus’s 
 desire, Tarquinius Collatinus, the husband of Lucretia, was 
 appointed his colleague: not that he was a more worthy or 
 able man than Valerius; but those that had the chief interest 
 in the state, apprehensive of the return of the Tarquins, who 
 made great efforts without, and endeavoured to soften the re¬ 
 sentment of the citizens within, were desirous to be corn 
 manded by the most implacable enemy of that house 
 
 Valerius, taking it ill that it should be supposed lie would 
 not do his utmost for his country, because he had received no 
 particular injury from the tyrants, withdrew from the senate, 
 forbore to attend the forum , and would not intermeddle in the 
 least with public affairs; so that many began to express their 
 fear and concern, lest through resentment he should join the 
 late royal family, and overturn the commonwealth, which as 
 yet was but tottering. Brutus was not without his suspicions 
 of some others, and therefore determined to bring the sena¬ 
 tors to their oath on a solemn day of sacrifice, which he ap¬ 
 pointed for that purpose. On this occasion Valerius went 
 with great alacrity into the forum , and was the first to make 
 oath that he would never give up the least point, or hearken 
 to any terms of agreement with Tarquin, but would defend 
 the Roman liberty with his sword: which afforded great satis¬ 
 faction to the senate, and strengthened the hands of the con- 
 
 nour, and conjured them not to let the crime of Sextus Tarquinius go un¬ 
 punished. Them the heroine, notwithstanding their endeavours to dissuade 
 her from it, plunged a dagger in her breast. While the rest were filled with 
 grief and consternation, Brutus, who till that time had feigned himself an 
 idiot, to prevent his being obnoxious to the tyrant, took the bloody poniard, 
 and showing it to the assembly, said:—«« I swear by this blood, which 
 once was so pure, and which nothing but the detestable villany cf Tarquin 
 could have polluted, that I will pursue L. Tarquinius the Proud, his wicked 
 wife, and their children, with fire and sword; nor will ever suffer any of that 
 family, or any other whatsoever, to reign at Rome. Ye gods! I call you to 
 witness this my oath.” At these words he presented the dagger to Colla¬ 
 tinus, Lucretius, Valerius, and the rest of the company, and engaged them 
 to take the same oatli. 
 
 Vol, T-2 E i » 
 
FUBL1C0LA. 
 
 202 
 
 suls.* His actions soon confirmed the sir cerity of his oafh, 
 for ambassadors came from Tarquin with letters calculated to 
 gain the people, and instructions to treat with them in such a 
 manner as might be most likely to corrupt them; as they were 
 to tell them from the king, that he had bid adieu to his higli 
 notions, and was willing to listen to very moderate conditions. 
 Though the consuls were of opinion that they should be ad¬ 
 mitted to confer with the people, Valerius would not suffer it, 
 but opposed it strongly, insisting that no pretext for innova¬ 
 tion should be given the needy multitude, who might consi¬ 
 der war as a greater grievance than tyranny itself. 
 
 After this, ambassadors came to declare that he would give 
 up all thoughts of the kingdom, and lay down his arms, if 
 they would but send him his treasures and other effects, that 
 his family and friends might not want a subsistence in their 
 exile. Many persons inclined to indulge him in this, and 
 Collatinus in particular agreed to it; but Brutus,t a man of 
 great spirit and quick resentment, ran into the forum , and call¬ 
 ed his colleague traitor, for being disposed to grant the enemy 
 the means to carry on the war, and recover the crown, when 
 indeed it would be too much to grant them bread in the place 
 where they might retire to. The citizens being assembled on 
 that occasion, Caius Minutius, a private man, was the first who 
 delivered his sentiments to them, advising Brutus and exhort¬ 
 ing the Romans to take care that the treasures should fight for 
 them against the tyrants, rather than for the tyrants against 
 them. The Romans, however, were of opinion, that while 
 they obtained that liberty for which they began the war, they 
 should not reject the offered peace for the sake of the treasures, 
 but cast them out together with the tyrants. 
 
 In the mean time Tarqu’nius made but small account of his 
 effects ; but the demand of them furnished a pretence for sound¬ 
 ing the people, and for preparing a scene of treachery. This 
 was carried on by the ambassadors, under pretence of taking 
 care of the effects, part of whifii they said they were to sell, 
 part to collect, and the rest to send away. Thus they gained 
 
 * Thus ended the regal state of Rome, 242 years, according to the com¬ 
 mon computation, after the building of the city. But Sir Isaac Newton 
 justly observes, that this can scarce be reconciled to the course of nature; 
 for we meet with no instance in all history, since chronology was certain, 
 wherein seven kings, most of whom were slain, reigned so long a time in 
 continual succession. By contracting, therefore, the reigns of these kings, 
 and those of the kings of Alba, he places the building of Rome, not in the 
 seventh, but in the thirty-eighth Olympiad. 
 
 •f- Dionysius of Halicarnassus, on the contrary, says the affair was debated 
 21 the senate with great moderation; and when it could not be settled there 
 whether they should prefer honour or profit, it was referred to die people, 
 who to their immorfal praise, carried it, by a majority of one vote for hcr.otn 
 
PUBLICOM, 
 
 203 
 
 time to corrupt two of the best families in Rome, that of the 
 Aquillii, in which were three senators, and the Vitellii, among 
 whom were two. All these, by the mother’s side, were ne¬ 
 phews to Collatinus the consul. The Vitellii were likewise 
 allied to Brutus; for their sister was his wife, and he had se¬ 
 veral children by her5* two cf whom, just arrived at years of 
 maturity, and being of their kindred and acquaintance, the 
 Vitellii drew in and persuaded to engage in the conspiracy; 
 insinuating that by this means they might marry into the fa¬ 
 mily of the Tarquins, share in their royal prospects, and, at 
 the same time, be set free from the yoke of a stupid and cruel 
 father; for his inflexibility in punishing criminals, they called 
 cruelty; and the stupidity, which he had used a long time as 
 a cloak to shelter him from the bloody designs of the tyrants, 
 had procured him the name oi Brutus ,t which he refused not 
 to be known by afterwards. 
 
 The youths thus engaged were brought to confer with the 
 Aquilii; and all agreed to take a great and horrible oath, by 
 drinking together of the blood, J and tasting§ the entrails of a 
 man sacrificed for that purpose. This ceremony was perform¬ 
 ed in the house of the Aquilii; and the room chosen for it (as 
 it was natural to suppose) was dark and retired. But a slave, 
 named Vindicius, lurked there undiscovered; not that he had 
 placed himself in that room by design: nor had he any suspi¬ 
 cion of what was going to be transacted: but happening to be 
 there and perceiving with what haste and concern they en¬ 
 tered, he stopped short for fear of being seen, and hid him¬ 
 self behind a chest; yet so that he could see what was done, 
 and hear what was resolved upon. They came to a resolution 
 to kill the consuls; and having wrote letters to signify as much 
 to Tarquin, they gave them to the ambassadors, who ther 
 were guescs to the Aquilii, and present at the conspiracy. 
 
 When the affair was over, they withdrew; and Vindicius, 
 stealing from his lurking-hole, was not determined what to 
 do, but disturbed with doubts. He thought it shocking, as 
 indeed it was, to accuse the sons of the most horrid crimes to 
 their father Brutus, or the nephews to their uncle Collatinus; 
 
 • Dionysius and Livy make mention cf no more than two; but Plutarch 
 agrees with those who say that Br.itus h>xi more, and that Marcus Brutus, 
 who killed Caesar was descended from c r.e of them. Cicero is among" those 
 that hold the latter opinion; cr else he pretended to be so, to make the 
 cause and person of Brutus more popular. 
 
 f Tarquin had put the father and brother of Brutus to death. 
 
 t They thought such a horrid sacrifice would obligee every member of the 
 conspiracy to inviolable secrecy. Catiline put the same in practice after* 
 wards. 
 
 4 The Word 3signifies to taste , as well as to touch. 
 
204 
 
 PUBLICOLA. 
 
 and it did not presently occur to him that any private Roman 
 was fit to be trusted with so important a secret. On the othci 
 hand, he was so much tormented with the knowledge of such 
 an abominable treason, that he could do any thing rather 
 than conceal it. At length, induced by the public spirit and 
 humanity of Valerius, he bethought himself of applying to him, 
 a man easy of access, and willing to be consulted by the ne¬ 
 cessitous; whose house was always open, and who never re¬ 
 fused to hear the petitions even of the meanest of the people. 
 
 Accordingly Vindicius coming, and discovering to him the 
 whole, in the presence of his brother Marcus and his wife, 
 Valerius, astonished and terrified at the plot, would not let the 
 man go, but shut him up in the room and left his wife to watch 
 the door. Then he ordered his brother to surround the late 
 king’s palace, to seize the letters, if possible, and to secure the 
 servants; while hirr.self, with many clients and friends whom 
 he always had about him, and a numerous retinue of servants, 
 went to the house of the Aquilii. As they were gone out, 
 and no one expected him, he forced open the doors, and found 
 the letters in the ambassador’s room. Whilst he was thus em¬ 
 ployed, the Aquilii ran home in great haste, and engaged with 
 him at the door, endeavouring to force the letters from him. 
 But Valerius and his party repelled their attack, and twisting 
 their gowns about their necks, after much struggling on both 
 sides, dragged them with great difficulty through the streets 
 into the forum . Marcus Valerius had the same success at the 
 royal palace, where he seized other letters ready to be convey¬ 
 ed away among the goods, laid hands on what servants of the 
 kino; he could find, and had them also into the forum . 
 
 When the consuls had put a stop to the tumult, Vindicius 
 was produced by order of Valerius; and the accusation being 
 lodged, the letters were read, which the traitors had not the 
 assurance to contradict. A melancholy stillness reigned among 
 the rest; but a few, willing to favour Brutus, mentioned ban¬ 
 ishment. The tears of Collatinus, and the silence of Valerius, 
 gave some hopes of mercy. But Brutus called upon each of his 
 sons by name, and said ,—“ You, Titus, and you, Valerius,* 
 why do not you make your defence against the charge?” After 
 they had been thus questioned three several times, and made 
 no answer, he turned to the lictors , and said,—“ Yours is the 
 part that remains.” The lictors immediately laid hold on the 
 youths, stripped them of their garments, and having tied tlieii 
 hands behind them, flogged them severely with their rods. 
 And though others turned their eyes aside, unable to endure 
 the spectacle, yet it is said that Brutus neither looked anothei 
 
 * The name of Brutus s second son was not Valerius, hut Tiberius. 
 
PUBLICOLA. 
 
 205 
 
 way, nor suffered pity in the least to smooth his stern and 
 angry countenance;* regarding his sons as they suffered with 
 a threatening aspect, till they were extended on the ground, 
 and their heads cutoff with the axe. Then he departed, leav¬ 
 ing the rest to his colleague. This was an action which it is 
 not easy to praise or condemn with propriety; for either the 
 excess of virtue raised his soul above the influence of the pas¬ 
 sions, or else the excess of resentment depressed it into insen* 
 sibility. Neither the one nor the other was natural, or suita¬ 
 ble to the human faculties, but was either divine or brutal. It 
 is more equitable, however, that our judgment should give its 
 sanction to the glory of this great man, than that our weakness 
 should incline us to doubt of his virtue; for the Romans do 
 not look upon it as so glorious a work for Romulus to have 
 built the city, as for Brutus to have founded and established 
 the commonwealth. 
 
 After Brutus had left the tribunal, the thought of what was 
 done involved the rest in astonishment, horror, and silence. 
 But the easiness and forbearance of Collatinus gave fresh spirits 
 to the Aquilii; they begged time to make their defence, and 
 desired that their slave Vindicius might be restored to them, 
 and not remain with their accusers. The consul was inclined 
 to grant their request, and thereupon to dismiss the assembly / 
 but Valerius would neither suffer the slave to be taken from 
 among the crowd, nor the people to dismiss the traitors and 
 withdraw. At last he seized the criminals himself and called 
 for Brutus, exclaiming that Collatinus acted most unworthily, 
 in laying his colleague under the hard necessity of putting his 
 own sons to death, and then inclining to gratify the women, 
 by releasing the betrayers and enemies of their country. Col¬ 
 latinus, upon this, losing all patience, commanded Vindicius 
 to be taken away; the lictors made way through the crowd, 
 seized the man, and came to blows with such as endeavoured 
 to rescue him. The friends of Valerius stood upon their de¬ 
 fence, and the people cried out for Brutus. Brutus returned, 
 and silence being made, he said,—“ It was enough for him to 
 give judgment upon his own sons; as for the rest, he left them 
 to the sentence of the people, who were now free; and any one 
 that chose it might plead before them.” They did not, how¬ 
 ever, wait for pleadings, but immediately put it to the vote, 
 and with one voice condemned them to die; and the traitors 
 
 * Livy gives us a different account of Brutus’s behaviour. Quum inter 
 omnetempus pater, vultusque et, os ejus, speciaculo esset , eminente animo pa- 
 trio inter publicsepoenx ministcrium. There could not be a more striking 
 spectacle than the countenance of Brutus, for anguish sate mixed with 
 dignity, and he could not conceal the father, though lve supported the ma¬ 
 gistrate.— Liv. lib. ii. cap. 5. 
 
ZOb 
 
 rUBLICOLA. 
 
 were beheaded. Collatinus, it seems, was somewhat suspect¬ 
 ed before, on account of his near relation to the royal family;* 
 and one of his names was obnoxious to the people, for they 
 abhorred the very name of Tarquin. But on this occasion he 
 had provoked them beyond expression; and therefore he vo 
 luntarily resigned the consulship, and retired from the city. 
 A new election consequently was held, and Valerius declared 
 consul with great honour as a proper mark of gratitude for his 
 patriotic zeal. As he was of opinion that Vindicius should 
 have his share of the reward, he procured a decree of the peo¬ 
 ple that the freedom of the city should be given him, which 
 was never conferred on a slave before, and that he should be 
 enrolled in what tribe he pleased, and give his suffrage with 
 it. As for other freedmen, Appius, wanting to make him¬ 
 self popular, procured them a right of voting long after. The 
 act of enfranchising a slave is to this day called Vindicta (we 
 are told), from this Vindicius. 
 
 The next step that was taken, was to give up the goods of 
 the Tarquins to be plundered; and their palace and other 
 houses were levelled with the ground. The pleasantest part 
 of the Campus Martins had been in their possession, and this 
 was now consecrated to the god Mars.t It happened to be 
 the time of harvest, and the sheaves than lay upon the ground; 
 but as it was consecrated, they thought it not lawful to thrash 
 the corn, or to make use of it; a great number of hands, there¬ 
 fore, took it up in baskets, and threw it into the river. The 
 trees were also cut down and thrown in after it, and the ground 
 left entirely without fruit or product, for the service of the 
 god. X A great quantity of different sorts of things being thus 
 thrown in together, they were not carried far by the current, 
 but only to the shallows, where the first heaps had stopped. 
 Finding no farther passage, every thing settled there, and the 
 whole was bound still faster by the river; for that washed 
 down to it a deal of mud, which not only added to the mass, 
 but served as a cement to it; and the current, far from dissolv 
 ing it, by its gentle pressure gave it the greater firmness. 
 The bulk and solidity of this mass received continual addi¬ 
 tions, most of what was brought down by the Tyber settling 
 
 * Lucius Tarquinius, the son of Egerius, and nephew of Tarquinius Pris¬ 
 ons, was called Collatinus, from Collatia, of which he was governor. Tar¬ 
 quinius Superbus, and Egerius, the father of Collatinus, were first cousins. 
 
 f Plutarch should have said re-consecrated; for it was devoted to that god 
 in the time of Romulus, as appears from his laws. But the Tarquins had 
 sacrilegiously converted it to their own use. 
 
 t A field so kept, was very properly adapted to the service of the god of 
 war, v ho lays waste all before him. 
 
PUBLtCOLA. 
 
 207 
 
 there. It is now an island sacred to religious uses;* severo' 
 temples and porticos have been built upon it, and it is called 
 in Latin Inter duos pontes, t the island between the two bridges 
 Some say, however, that this did not happen at the dedica 
 tion of Tarquin’s field, but some ages after, when Tarquinia, 
 a vestal, gave another adjacent field to the public; for which 
 she was honoured with great privileges, particularly that of 
 giving her testimony in court, which was refused to all other 
 women; they likewise voted her liberty to marry, but she did 
 not accept it. This is the account, though seemingly fabu¬ 
 lous, which some give of the matter. 
 
 Tarquin, despairing to reascend the throne by stratagem, 
 ipplied to the Tuscans, who gave him a kind reception, and 
 prepared to conduct him back with a great armament. The 
 consuls led the Roman forces against them; and the two ar¬ 
 mies were drawn up in certain consecrated parcels of ground, 
 the one called the Arsian grove, the other the iEsuvian mea¬ 
 dow. When they came to charge, Aruns, the son of Tarquin, 
 and Brutus, the Roman consul, X met each other, not by acci 
 dent, but design; animated by hatred and resentment, the one 
 against a tyrant, and enemy of his country, the other to re¬ 
 venge his banishment, they spurred their horses to the en¬ 
 counter. As they engaged rather with fury than conduct, they 
 laid themselves open, and fell by each other’s hand. The bat 
 tie, whose onset was so dreadful, had not a milder conclusion; 
 the carnage was prodigious, and equal on both sides, till at 
 length the armies were separated by a storm. 
 
 Valerius was in great perplexity, as he knew not which side 
 had the victory, and found his men as much dismayed at the 
 sight of their own dead, as animated by the loss of the enemy. 
 So great, indeed, was the slaughter, that it could not be dis¬ 
 tinguished who had the advantage; and each army having a 
 near view of their own loss, and only guessing at that of the 
 enemy, were inclined to think themselves vanquished, rather 
 than victorious. When night came on (such a night as one 
 might imagine after so bloody a day), and both camps were 
 hushed in silence and repose, it is said that the grove shook, 
 and a loud voice proceeding from it, declared that, the Tus¬ 
 cans had lost one man more than the Homans . The voice way 
 
 * Livy says it was secured against the force of the current by jettecs. 
 
 f The Fabric ran bridge joined it to the city on the side of the Capitol, and 
 the Cestian bridge on the side of the Janiculine gate. 
 
 $ Brutus is deservedly reckoned among the most illustrious heroes. He 
 restored liberty to his country, secured it with the blotd of his own sons, 
 and died in defending it against a tyrant. The Romans afterwards erected 
 his statue in the Capitol, where he was placed in the midst of the kings of 
 Re ne, with a nake 1 sword in his hand. 
 
208 
 
 PUBLIC OLA. 
 
 undoubtedly divine;* for immediately upon that, the Romans 
 recovered their spirits, and the field rung with acclamations 
 while the Tuscans, struck with fear and confusion, deserted 
 their camp, and most of them dispersed. As for those that 
 remained, who were not quite five thousand, the Romans took 
 them prisoners, and plundered the camp. When the dead were 
 numbered, there were found on the side of the Tuscans eleven 
 thousand three hundred, and on that of the Romans as many, 
 excepting one. This battle is said to have been fought on the 
 'ast of February. Valerius was honoured with a triumph, and 
 was the first consul that made his entry in a chariot and four. 
 The occasion rendered the spectacle glorious and venerable, 
 not invidious, and (as some would have it) grievous to the 
 Romans; for if tint had been the case, the custom would not 
 have been so zealously kept up, nor would the ambition to 
 obtain a triumph have lasted so many ages. The people were 
 pleased, too, with the honours paid by Valerius to the remains 
 of his colleague, his burying him with so much pomp and pro 
 nouncing his funeral oration; which last the Romans so ge¬ 
 nerally approved, or rather were so much charmed with, that 
 afterwards all the great and illustrious men among them, upon 
 their decease, had their encomium from persons of distinc¬ 
 tion.! This funeral oration was more ancient than any among 
 the Greeks, unless we allow what Anaximenes the orator re¬ 
 lates, that Solon was the author of this custom. 
 
 But that which offended and exasperated the people was 
 this:—Brutus, whom they considered as the father of liberty, 
 would not rule alone, but took to himself a first and a second 
 colleague ;— u yet this man/’ said they, “ grasps the whole au¬ 
 thority, and is not the successor to the consulate of Brutus, 
 to which he has no right, but to the tyranny of Tarquin. To 
 what purpose is it in words to extol Brutus, and in deeds to 
 imitale Tarquin, while he has all the rods and axes carried be¬ 
 fore him alone, and sets out from a house more stately than 
 the royal palace which he demolished?” It is true, Valerius 
 did live in a house too lofty and superb, on the Velian emi¬ 
 nence, which commanded the forum , and every thing that 
 passed; and as the avenues were difficult, and the ascent steep, 
 when he came down from it, his appearance was very pomjv- 
 
 * It was said to be the voice of the god Pan. 
 
 ! Funeral orations were not in use among* the Greeks, till the battle of 
 rathon, which was sixteen years after the death of Erutus. The heroes that 
 fell so gloriously there, did, indeed, well deserve such eulogiums; and the 
 Grecians never granted them but to those that were slain fighting for theii 
 country. In this fespect, the custom of the Romans was more equitable, 
 for they honoured, with those public marks of regard, such as had served 
 their country in any capacity. 
 
PUBLICOLA. 
 
 20 * 
 
 ous, and resembled the state of a king, rather than that of 3 
 consul. But he soon showed of what consequence it is foi 
 persons, in high stations and authority, to have their ears open 
 to truth and good advice rather than flattery; for when hia 
 friends informed him, that most people thought he was taking 
 wrong steps, he made no dispute, nor expressed any resent¬ 
 ment, but hastily assembled a number of workmen, whilst it 
 was yet night, who demolished his house entirely; so that 
 when the Romans, in the morning, assembled to look upon it, 
 they admired and adored his magnanimity, but, at the same 
 time, were troubled to see so grand and magnificent an edifice 
 ruined by the envy of the citizens, as they would have lament¬ 
 ed the death of a great man who had fallen as suddenly, and by 
 the same cause. It gave them pain, too, to see the consul, who 
 had now no home, obliged to take shelter in another man’s 
 house; for Valerius was entertained by his friends, till the 
 people provided a piece of ground for him, where a less state¬ 
 ly house was built, in the place where the temple of Victory 
 now stands.* 
 
 Desirous to make his high office, as well as himself, rather 
 agreeable than formidable to the people, he ordered the axes 
 to be taken away from the rods, and that whenever he went to 
 the great assembly, the rods should be lowered in respect to 
 the citizens, as if the supreme power were lodged in them; a 
 custom which the consuls observe to this day.t The people 
 were not aware, that by this he did not lessen his own power, 
 (as they imagined), but only, by such an instance of modera¬ 
 tion, obviated and cut off all occasion of envy, and gained as 
 much authority to his person as he seemed to take from his 
 office; for they all submitted to him with pleasure, and were 
 so mu-ch charmed with his behaviour, that they gave him the 
 name of Publicola , that is, the People’s respectful friend. In this 
 both his former names were lost; and this we shall make use 
 of in the sequel of his life. 
 
 Indeed it was no more than his due; for he permitted all to 
 sue for the consulship. J Yet, before a colleague was appoint- 
 
 * Plutarch has it, where the temple called Vicus Publicus now stands. He 
 had found in the historians vicas potae , which in old Latin signifies victory , but 
 as he did not understand it, he substituted Vicus Publicus , which here would 
 have no sense at all. 
 
 j" The axes, too, were still borne before the consuls when they were ii. 
 the field. 
 
 + If Publicola gave the plebeians, as well as the patrician», x right to the 
 consulate, that right did not then take place; for Lucius Sextius was the firs* 
 plebeian who arrived at that honour, many ages after the time of which Plu 
 tarch speaks; and this continued but eleven years; for in the twelfth, which 
 was the four hundredth year of Rome, both the consuls were again patri 
 cians.— Liv. 1. vii. cap. 18. 
 
 y 0L . I.-2 Y 
 
no 
 
 PUBLICOLA. 
 
 ed him, as he knew not what might happen, and was appro* 
 nensive of some opposition from ignorance or envy, while he 
 had the sole power he made use of it to establish some of the 
 most useful and excellent regulations. In the first place, he 
 filled up the senate, which then was very thin; several of that 
 august body having been put to death by Tarquin before, and 
 others fallen in the late battle. He is said to have made up the 
 number a hundred and sixty-four. In the next place he cans- 
 ed certain laws to be enacted, which greatly augmented the 
 power of the people. The first gave liberty of "appeal from 
 the consuls to the people; the second made it death to entei 
 upon the magistracy, without the people’s consent; the third 
 was greatly in favour of the poor, as, by exempting them from 
 taxes,* it promoted their attention to manufactures. Even 
 his law against disobedience to the consuls, w T as not less popu¬ 
 lar than the rest; and, in effect, it favoured the commonalty 
 rather than the great; for the fine was only the value of five 
 oxen and tw r o sheep. The value of a sheep was ten oboli , of 
 an ox a hundred;! the Romans as yet not making much use of 
 money, because their wealth consisted in abundance of cattle. 
 To this day they call their substance peculia , from pecus , cat¬ 
 tle, their most ancient coins having the impression of an ox, 
 a sheep, or a hog; and their sons being distinguished with the 
 names of Suilli, Bubulci , Caprarii, and Porcii , derived from the 
 names of such animals. 
 
 Though these laws of Publicola were popular and equitable, 
 yet, amidst this moderation, the punishment he appointed in 
 one case was severe; for he made it lawful, without a form of 
 trial, to kill any man that should attempt to set himself up for 
 king; and the person that took away his life, was to stand ex¬ 
 cused, if he could make proof of the intended crime. His 
 reason for such a law, we presume, was this; though it is no. 
 possible that he who undertakes so great an enterprise should 
 escape all notice, yet it is very probable that, though suspect¬ 
 ed, he may accomplish his designs before he can be brought 
 to answer for it in a judicial way; and as the crime, if com¬ 
 mitted, w T ould prevent his being called to account for it, this 
 law empowered any one to punish him before such cognizance 
 was taken. 
 
 His law concerning the treasury did him honour. It was 
 necessary that money should be raised for the war from the 
 estates of the citizens, but he determined that neither himself 
 
 * He exempted artificers, widows, and old men, who had no children t<? 
 relieve them, from paying’ tribute. 
 
 -j- Before the fine was such as the commonalty could not pa)' without ab> 
 solute min 
 
PUBLIC OLA. 
 
 211 
 
 nor any of his friends should have the disposal of it; nor would 
 he suffer it to be lodged in any private house. He therefore 
 appointed the temple of Saturn to be the treasury, which they 
 still make use of for that purpose, and empowered the people 
 to choose trro young men as qusestbrs , or treasurers .* The 
 first were Publius Veturius and Marcus Minutius; and a 
 large sum was collected; for a hundred and thirty thousand 
 pei sons were taxed, though the orphans and widows stood 
 excused. 
 
 These matters thus regulated he procured Lucretius, the 
 father of the injured Lucretia, to be appointed his colleague. 
 To him he gave the fasces (as they are called), together with 
 the precedency, as the older man; and this mark of respect 
 to age has ever since continued. As Lucretius died a few 
 days after, another election was held, and Marcus Horatiust 
 appointed in his room for the remaining part of the year. 
 
 About that time, Tarquin making preparations for a second 
 war against the Romans, a great prodigy is said to have hap¬ 
 pened. This prince, while yet upon the throne, had almost 
 finished the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, when, either by the 
 direction of an oracle ,% or upon some fancy of his own, he or¬ 
 dered the artists of Veii to make an earthen chariot, which 
 was to be placed on the top of it. Soon after this he forfeited 
 the crown. The Tuscans, however, moulded the chariot, and 
 set it in the furnace; but the case was very different with it 
 from that of other clay in the fire, which condenses and con¬ 
 tracts upon the exhalation of the moisture, whereas it enlarged 
 itself and swelled, till it grew to such a size and hardness, that 
 it was with difficulty they got it out, even after the furnace 
 was dismantled. The soothsayers being of opinion that tills 
 chariot betokened power and success to the persons with whom 
 it should remain, the people of Veii determined not to give it 
 up to the Romans; but upon their demanding it, returned this 
 answer, that it belonged to Tarquin, not to those that had 
 driven him from his kingdom. It happened that a few days 
 
 * The office of the quaestors was to take care of the public treasure, 
 for which they were accountable when their year was out; to furnish the 
 necessary sums for the service of the public; and to receive ambassadors, 
 attend them, and provide them with lodging's and other necessaries. A ge¬ 
 neral could not obtain the honours of a triumph, till he had given them a 
 faithful account of the spoils he had taken, and sworn to it. There were at 
 first two quaestors only; but when the Roman empire was considerably en¬ 
 larged, their number was increased. The office of quaestor, though often 
 discharged by persons who had been consuls, was the first step to great 
 Employments. 
 
 f Horatius Pulvillus. 
 
 * It was a usual thing to place chariots on the tops of temples. 
 
212 
 
 rUBLtCOLA. 
 
 after there was a chariot-race at Veii, which was observed as 
 usual, except that as the charioteer, who had won the prize 
 and received the crown, was gently driving out of the ring, 
 the horses took fright from no visible cause, but either by 
 some direction of the gods, or turn of fortune, ran away with 
 their driver at full speed towards Rome. It was in vain chat he 
 pulled the reins, or soothed them with words: he was obliged 
 to give way to the career, and was whirled along till they 
 came to the Capitol, where they flung him, at the gate now 
 called Ratumena . The Veientes, surprised and terrified at this 
 incident, ordered the artists to deliver up the chariot.* 
 
 Tarquin, the son of Demaratus, in his wars with the Sabines, 
 made a vow to build a temple to Jupiter Capitolinus, which 
 was performed by Tarquin the Proud, son or grandson to the 
 former. He did not, however, consecrate it, for it was not 
 quite finished when he was expelled from Rome.f When the 
 last hand was put to it, and it had received every suitable or 
 nament, Publicola was ambitious of the honour of dedicating 
 it. This excited the envy of some of the nobility, who could 
 better brook his other honours, to which, indeed, in his legis¬ 
 lative and military capacities, he had a better claim; but, as he 
 had no concern in this, they did not think proper to grant it 
 him; but encouraged and importuned Horatius to apply for it. 
 In the mean time, Publicola’s command of the army necessa¬ 
 rily required his absence, and his adversaries, taking the op¬ 
 portunity to procure an order from the people that Horatius 
 should dedicate the temple, conducted him to the Capitol; a 
 point which they could not have gained had Publicola been 
 present. Yet some say, the consuls having cast lots for it,} 
 the dedication fell to Horatius, and the expedition, against his 
 inclination, to Publicola. But we may easily conjecture how 
 they stood disposed, by the proceedings on the day of dedica¬ 
 tion. This was the thirteenth of September, which is about 
 the full moon of the month Metagitnian , when prodigious 
 numbers of all ranks being assembled, and silence enjoined, 
 Horatius, after the other ceremonies, took hold of one of the 
 gate-posts (as the custom is), and was going to pronounce the 
 prayer of consecration; but Marcus, the brother of Publicola, 
 
 • A miracle of this kind, and not less extraordinary, is said to have hap¬ 
 pened in modern Rome. When poor St. Michael’s church was in a ruinous 
 condition, the horses that were employed in drawing stones through the citv, 
 unanimously agreed to carry their loads to St. Michael! 
 
 f This temple was 200 feet long, and 185 and upwards broad. The front 
 was adorned with three rows of columns, and the sides with two. In the 
 nave were three shrines, one of Jupiter, another of Juno, and the third of 
 Minerva. 
 
 t Livy says positively, they cast lots for it. Plutarch seems to have taken 
 the sequel of the story .Torn him.— Liv. lib. ii. c. 8 
 
PUBLICOLA. 
 
 aia 
 
 who had stood for some time by the gates watching his oppor¬ 
 tunity, cried out, “Consul, your son lies dead in the camp.” 
 This gave great pain to all that heard it; but the consul, not 
 in the least disconcerted, made answer,—“ Then cast out the 
 dead where you please, I admit of no.mourning on this occa¬ 
 sion;” and so proceeded to finish the dedication. The news 
 was not true, but an invention of Marcus,, who hoped by that 
 means to hinder Horatius from completing what he was about. 
 But his presence of mind is equally admirable, whether he im¬ 
 mediately perceived the falsity, or believed the account to be 
 true, without showing any emotion. 
 
 The same fortune attended the dedication of the second 
 temple. The first, built by Tarquin, and dedicated by Hora¬ 
 tius, as we have related, was afterwards destroyed by fire in 
 ihe civil wars.* Sylla rebuilt it, but did not live to conse¬ 
 crate it; so the dedication of this second temple fell to Catullus. 
 It was again destroyed in the troubles which happened in the 
 time of Vitellius; and a third was built by Vespasian, who 
 with his usual good fortune, put the last hand to it, but did not 
 see it demolished, as it was soon after: happier in this respect 
 than Sylla, who died before his was dedicated, Vespasian died 
 before his was destroyed; for immediately after bis decease 
 the Capitol w T as burnt. The fourth, which now stands, was 
 built and dedicated by Domitian. Tarquin is said to have ex¬ 
 pended thirty thousand pounds weight of silver upon the foun¬ 
 dations only; but the greatest wealth any private man is sup¬ 
 posed to be now possessed of in Rome, would not answer the 
 expense of the gilding of the present temple, which amounted 
 to more than twelve thousand talents, t The pillars are of 
 Pentelic marble, and the thickness was in excellent proportion 
 to their length, when we saw them at Athens; but when they 
 were cut and polished anew at Rome, they gained not so much 
 
 * After the first temple was destroyed in the wars between Sylla and Ma¬ 
 rius, Sylla rebuilt it with columns of marble, which he bad taken out of the 
 temple of Jupiter Olympius at Athens, and transported to Rome. But (as 
 Plutarch observes) he did not live to consecrate it; and lie was heard to say, 
 as he was dying*, that his leaving* that temple to be dedicated by another 
 was the only unfortunate circumstance of his life. 
 
 f 194,350/. sterling*. In this we may see the great distance between the 
 wealth of private citizens in a free country, and that of the subjects of an ar 
 bitrary monarch. In Trajan’s time, there was not a private man in Rome 
 worth 200,000/.; whereas, under the commonwealth, iEmilius Scaur us, ii 
 his aedileship, erected a temporary theatre, which cost above 500,000/.: Mar 
 cue Crassus had an estate in land of above a million a year; L. Cornelius Bal- 
 bus left by will, to every Roman citizen, twenty-five denarii , which amounts 
 to about sixteen shillings of our money; and man) private men among the 
 Romans maintained from ten to twenty thousand slaves, not so much for 
 service as ostentation. No wonder then that the slaves once took up arms, 
 and went to war with the R r man commonwealth. 
 
 20 
 
m 
 
 PUBLinOLA. 
 
 *n the polish, as they lost in the proportion; for their beauty 
 s injured by their appearing too slender for their height. But 
 After admiring the magnificence of the Capitol, if any one was 
 to go and see a gallery, a hall, or bath, or the apartments of 
 the women, in Domitian’s palace, what is said by Epicharmus 
 of a prodigal:— 
 
 Your lavish’d stores speak not the liberal mind, 
 
 But the disease of giving 1 , 
 
 lie might apply to Domitian in some such manner as this: 
 
 “ Neither piety nor magnificence appears in your expense; you 
 have the disease of building; like Mid;.; of old, you would 
 turn every thing to gold and marble.” So much ter this sub' 
 ject. 
 
 Let us now return to Tarquin. After that great battle in 
 which he lost his son, who was killed in single combat by 
 Brutus, he fled to Clusium, and begged assistance of Laras 
 Porsena, then the most powerful prince in Italy, and a man 
 of great worth and honour. Porsena promised him succours;* 
 and, in the first place, sent to the Romans, commanding them 
 to receive Tarquin. Upon their refusal, he declared war 
 against them; and having informed them of the time when, 
 and the place where, he would make his assault, he marched 
 thither accordingly with a great army. Publicola, who was 
 then absent, was chosen consul the second time,t and with 
 him Titus Lucretius. Returning to Rome, and desirous to 
 outdo Porsena in spirit, J he built the town of Sigliuria, not¬ 
 withstanding the enemy’s approach; and when he had finished 
 the walls at a great expense, he placed in it a colony of seven 
 hundred men, as if he held his adversary very cheap. Por¬ 
 sena, however, assaulted it in a spirited manner, drove out the 
 garrison, and pursued the fugitives so close, that he was neai 
 entering Rome along with them. But Publicola met him 
 without the gates, and joining battle by the river, sustained 
 the enemy’s attack, who pressed on with numbers, till at last, 
 sinking under the wounds he had gallantly received, he was 
 carried out of the battle. Lucretius, his colleague, having the 
 same fate, the courage of the Romans drooped, and they re¬ 
 treated into the city for security. The enemy making good 
 the pursuit to the wooden bridge, Rome was in great danger 
 
 * Besides that Porsena was willing 1 to assist a distressed king 1 , he consider* 
 ed the Tarquins as his countrymen, for they were of Tuscan enaction. 
 
 f It was when Publicola was consul the third time, and had for colleague 
 lloratius Pulvillus, that Porsena marched against Pome. 
 
 t Sigliuria was not built at this time, nor out of ostentation, as Plutarch 
 says; for it was built as a barrier against the Latins and the Hernici, and not 
 in the third, but in the second consulship of Publicola. 
 
PUBLIC OLA. 
 
 215 
 
 >1 being taken, when Horatius Codes,* and with him two 
 others of the first rank, Herminius and Spurius Lartius,t stop- 
 oed them at the bridge. Horatius had the surname of Codes 
 from his having lost an eye in the wars; or as some will have 
 it, from the form of ids nose, which was so very flat, that both 
 liis eyes, as w~ell as eye-brows, seemed to be joined together; 
 so that when the vulgar intended to call him Cydops , by a 
 misnomer they called him Codes , which name remained with 
 him. This man, standing at the head of the bridge, defended 
 it against the enemy, till the Romans broke it down behind 
 him. Then he plunged into the Tyber, armed as he was, and 
 swam to the other side, but was wounded in the hip with a 
 Tuscan spear. Publicola, struck with admiration of his va¬ 
 lour, immediately procured a decree, that every Roman should 
 give him one day’s provisions;$ and that he should have as 
 much land as himself could encircle with a plough in one day. 
 Besides, they erected his statue in brass in the temple of \ ul 
 can, with a view to console him by this honour for his wound, 
 and lameness consequent upon it. § 
 
 While Porsenalaid close siege to the city, the Romans were 
 attacked with famine, and another body of Tuscans laid waste 
 the country. Publicola, who was now consul the third time, 
 was of opinion that no operations could be carried on against 
 Porsena but defensive ones. He marched out, || however, 
 privately against these Tuscans who had committed such rava¬ 
 ges, defeated them, and killed five thousand. 
 
 The story of MuciusIT has been the subject of many pens, 
 and is variously related. I shall give that account of it which 
 seems most credible. Mucius was in all respects a man of 
 merit, but particularly distinguished by his valour. Having 
 secretly formed a scheme to take off Porsena, he made his way 
 into his camp in a Tuscan dress, where he likewise took care 
 to speak the Tuscan language. In this disguise he approached 
 the seat where the king sat with his nobles; and as he did not 
 certainly know Porsena, and thought it improper to ask, he 
 
 * He was son t.j a brother of Horatius the consul, and a descendant of that 
 Horatius who remained victorious in the great combat between the Horatii 
 find Curiatii in the reign of TuIIub Jlnslilius. 
 
 f In the Greek text it is Lucretius, which, we suppose, is a corruption of 
 i^artius, the name we find in Livy. 
 
 i Probably he had three hundred thousand contributors, for even tire wo¬ 
 men readily gave in their quota. 
 
 $ This defect, and his having but one eye, prevented his ever being consul. 
 
 H The consul spread a report, which was soon carried into the Tuscan 
 camp by the slaves who deserted, that the next day all the cattle brought 
 thither from the country, would be sent to graze in the fields under a guard. 
 This bait drew the enemy into an ambush. 
 
 1 Mucius Cordus. 
 
216 
 
 PUBLICQLA. 
 
 drew his sword, and killed the person that seemed most likely 
 to be the king. Upon this he was seized and examined. Mean 
 time, as there happened to be a portable altar there, with fire 
 upon it, where the king was about to offer sacrifice, Mucius 
 thrust his right hand into it;* and as the flesh was burning, he 
 kept looking upon Porsena with a firm and menacing aspect, 
 till the king, astonished at his fortitude, returned him his 
 sword with his own hand. He received it with his left hand, 
 from whence we are told he had the surname of Scaevola , which 
 signifies left-handed; and thus addressed himself to Porsena:— 
 “ i our threatenings I regarded not, but am conquered by your 
 generosity, and out of gratitude will declare to you what no 
 force should have wrested from me. There are three hundred 
 Romans that have taken the same resolution with mine, who 
 now walk about your camp, watching their opportunity. It 
 was my lot to make the first attempt, and I am not sorry that 
 my sword was directed by fortune against another instead of a 
 man of so much honour, who, as such, should rather be a friend 
 than an enemy to the Romans.” Porsena believed this account 
 and was more inclined to harken to terms, not so much, in 
 my opinion, through fear of the three hundred assassins, as 
 admiration of the dignity of the Roman valour. All authors 
 call this man Mucius Scaevola,t except Athenodorus Sandon, 
 who, in a work addressed to Octavia, sister to Augustus, says 
 he was named Posthumius. 
 
 Publicola, who did not look upon Porsena as so bitter an 
 enemy to Rome, but that he deserved to be taken into its friend¬ 
 ship and alliance, was so far from refusing to refer the dispute 
 w T ith Tarquin to his decision, that he was really desirous of it, 
 and several times offered to prove that Tarquin was the worst 
 of men, and justly deprived of the crown. When Tarquin 
 roughly answ r ered, that he would admit of no arbitrator, much 
 less of Porsena, if he changed his mind, and forsook his alli¬ 
 ance. Porsena was offended, and began to entertain an ill 
 opinion of him; being likewise solicited to it by his son Aruns, 
 who used all his interest for the Romans, he was prevailed 
 upon to put an end to the war, on condition that they gave up 
 that part of Tuscany which they had conquered,! together with 
 the prisoners, and received their deserters. For the perform¬ 
 ance of these conditions, they gave as hostages ten young men 
 
 * Iivy says, that Porsena threatened Mucius with the torture by fire, to 
 make him discover his accomplices; whereupon Mucius thrust his hand into 
 che flame, to let him see that he was not to be intimidated. 
 
 f Mucius was rewarded with a large piece of ground belonging to the 
 public. 
 
 t The Romans were required to reinstate the Veientes in the possess'on 
 of seven villages, which they had taken from them in former wars. 
 
PUBLIC OLA. 
 
 217 
 
 Juid as many virgins, of the best families in Rome ; among whoir. 
 was Valeria, the daughter of Publicola. 
 
 Upon the faith of this treaty, Porsena had ceased from all 
 acts of hostili y, when the Roman virgins went down to bathe, 
 at a place where the bank, forming itself in a crescent, embra¬ 
 ces the river in such a manner, that there it is quite calm and 
 undisturbed with waves. As no guard was near, and they saw 
 none passing or repassing, they had a violent inclination to 
 swim over, notwithstanding the depth and strength of the 
 stream. Some say one of them, named Cloelia, passed it on 
 horseback, and env/.:ra£"d the othei irgins as they swam. 
 When they came a"e lo Publicola, he neither commended nor 
 approved their exploit, b* t was grieved to think he should 
 appear unequal to Porsena in point of honour, and that this 
 daring enterprise of the virgins should make the Romans sus¬ 
 pected of unfair proceeding. He took them, therefore, and 
 sent them back to Porsena. Tarquin, having timely intelli¬ 
 gence of this, '.aid an ambuscade for them, and attacked their 
 convoy. They defended themselves, though greatly inferior 
 in number; and Valeria, the daughter of Publicola, broke 
 through them as tiny were engaged, with three servants, who 
 conducted her le to Torsena's camp. As the skirmish was 
 not yet decided, nor the danger over, Aruns, the son of Por¬ 
 sena, being informed of it, marched up with all speed, put the 
 enemy to flight, and rescued the Romans. When Porsena saw 
 the virgins returned, he demanded which of them was she that 
 proposed the design, and set the example. When he under 
 stood that Cloelia was the person, he treated her w T ith great 
 politeness, and commanding one of his own horses to be 
 brought, with very elegant trappings, he made her a present of 
 it. Those that say Cloelia was the only one that passed the 
 river on horseback, allege this as a proof. Others say no sucli 
 consequence can be drawn from it, and that it was nothing 
 more than a mark of honour to her from the Tuscan king, for 
 her bravery. An equestrian siatue of her stands in the Via 
 sacra ,* where it leads to mount Palatine; yet some will have 
 even this to be Valeria’s statue, not Cloelia’s. 
 
 Porsena, thus reconciled to the Romans, gave many proofs 
 of his greatness of mind. Among the rest, he ordered the 
 Tuscans to carry off nothing but their arms, and to leave their 
 camp full of provisions, and many other things of value, for 
 the Romans. Hence it is, that even in our times, whenever 
 there is a sale of goods belonging to the public, they are cried 
 
 * Dionysius of Harlicarnassus tells us, in express terms, that in his time, 
 that is, in the reign of Augustus, there were no remains of that statue, il 
 having* been consumed by fire. 
 
 Vol. i.-2 G 
 
 20 
 
218 
 
 PUBLICOLA. 
 
 first as the goods of Porsena, to eternize the memory ot hu 
 generosity. A brazen statue, of rude and antique workman¬ 
 ship, was also erected to his honour, near the senate-house.* 
 
 After this, the Sabines invading the Roman territory, Mar¬ 
 cus Valerius, brother to Publicola, and Posthumius Tubertus, 
 were elected consuls. As every important action was still con¬ 
 ducted by the advice and assistance of Publicola, Marcus gain¬ 
 ed two great battles; in the second of which he killed "thir¬ 
 teen thousand of the enemy, without the loss of one Roman. 
 For this he was not only rewarded with a triumph, but a house 
 was built for him at the public expense on mount Palatine. 
 And whereas the doors of other houses at that time opened 
 inwards, the street door of that house was made to open out¬ 
 wards, to show by such an honourable distinction, that he was 
 always ready to receive any proposal for the public service, t 
 All the doors in Greece, they tell us, were formerly made to 
 open so; which they prove from those passages in the come¬ 
 dies, where it is mentioned, that those that went out, knocked 
 loud on the inside of the doors first, to give warning to such 
 as passed by, or stood before them, lest the doors in opening 
 should dash against them. 
 
 The year following, Publicola was appointed consul the 
 fourth time, because a confederacy between the Sabines and 
 Latins threatened a war; and at the same time; the city was 
 oppressed with superstitious terrors on account of the imper¬ 
 fect births, and general abortions among the women. Publi¬ 
 cola, having consulted the Sibyl’s books upon it,f offered sa¬ 
 crifice to Pluto, and renewed certain games that had formerly 
 been instituted by the direction of the Delphic oracle. When 
 
 * The senate likewise sent an embassy to him, with a present of a throne 
 adorned with ivory, a sceptre, a crown of gold, and a triumphal robe. 
 
 f Posthumius had his share in the triumph, as well as in the achievements. 
 
 i An unknown woman is said to have come to Tarquin with nine volumes 
 of oracles, written by the Sibyl of Cuma, for which she demanded a very 
 considerable price. Tarquin refusing to purchase them at her rate, she 
 burnt three of them, and then asked the same price for the remaining six. 
 Her proposal being rejected with scorn, she burnt three more, and, not- 
 withsta iding, still insisted on her first price. Tarquin, surprised at the 
 novelty of the thing, put the books in the hands of the augurs to be exam¬ 
 ined, who advised him to purchase them at any rate. Accordingly he did, 
 and appointed two persons of distinction, styled Duumviri, to be guardians 
 of them, who locked them up in a vault under the temple of Jupiter Capi- 
 tolinus, and there they were kept till they were burnt with the temple it¬ 
 self. These officers, whose number was afterwards increased, consulted 
 the Sibylline books by direction of the senate, when some dangerous sedi¬ 
 tion was likely to break out, when the Roman armies had been defeated, 
 or when any of those prodigies appeared which were thought fatal. They 
 also presided over the sacrifices and shows, which they appointed to appease 
 the wrath of heaven. 
 
PUBLICOLA. 
 
 219 
 
 he had revived the city with the pleasing hope that the gods 
 were appeased, he prepared to arm against the menaces of 
 men; for there appeared to be a formidable league and strong 
 armament against him. Among the Sabines, Appius Clausus 
 was a man of an opulent fortune, and remarkable personal 
 strength; famed, moreover, for his virtues, and the force of 
 his eloquence. What is the fate of all great men, to be per¬ 
 secuted by envy, was likewise his; and his opposing the war, 
 gave a handle to malignity to insinuate that he wanted to 
 strengthen the Roman power, in order the more easily to en¬ 
 slave his own country. Perceiving that the populace gave a 
 willing ear to these calumnies, and that he was become obnox¬ 
 ious to the abettors of the war, he was apprehensive of an 
 impeachment; but being powerfully supported by his friends 
 and relations, he bade his enemies defiance. This delayed the 
 war. Publicola making it his business not only to get intelli¬ 
 gence of this sedition, but also to encourage and inflame it, 
 sent proper persons to Appius, to tell him,—“That he was 
 sensible he was a man of too much goodness and integrity, to 
 avenge himself of his countrymen, though greatly injured by 
 them, but if he chose, for his security, to come over to the 
 Romans, and get out of the way of his enemies, he should 
 find such a reception, both in public and private, as was suita 
 ble to his virtue, and the dignity of Rome.” Appius consi¬ 
 dered this proposal with great attention, and the necessity of 
 his affairs prevailed with him to accept of it. He therefore 
 persuaded his friends, and they influenced many others, so that 
 five thousand men of the most peaceable disposition of any 
 among the Sabines, with their families, removed with him to 
 Rome. Publicola, who was prepared for it, received them in 
 the most friendly and hospitable manner, admitted them to the 
 freedom of the city; and gave them two acres of land a-piece, 
 by the river Anio. To Appius he gave twenty-five acres, and 
 a seat in the senate. This laid the foundation of his greatness 
 in the republic; and he used the advantage with so much pru¬ 
 dence, as to rise to the first rank in power and authority. The 
 CU.udian family,* descended from him, is as illustrious as any 
 in Rome. 
 
 Though the disputes among the Sabines were decided by 
 thu migration, the demagogues would not suffer them to rest, 
 representing it as a matter of great disgrace, if Appius, now 
 
 * There were two families of the Claudii in Rome; one patrician, and the 
 other plebeian. The first had the surname of Fulcher, and the other of 
 Marcellus. In course of time the patrician family produced twenty-three 
 consuls, five dictators, and seven censors, and obtained two triumphs, anc 
 two ovations. The emperor Tiberius was descended of this family. 
 
22C 
 
 PUBLICOLA. 
 
 a deserter and an enemy, should be able to obstruct then 
 taking vengeance of the Romans,, when he could not preven- 
 it by his presence. They advanced, the efore, with a great 
 army, and encamped near Eidense. Having ordered two 
 thousand men to lie in ambush in the shrubby and hollow 
 places before Rome, they appointed .a. few horse at day-break 
 to ravage the country up to the very gates, and then to retreat; 
 till they drew the enemy into the ambuscade. But Publicola, 
 getting information that very day of these particulars from de¬ 
 serters, prepared himself accordingly, and made a disposition 
 of his forces. Posthumius Balbus, his son-in-law, went out 
 with three thousand men, as it began to grow dark, and hav¬ 
 ing taken possession of the summits of the hills under which 
 the Sabines had concealed themselves, watched his opportuni¬ 
 ty. His colleague Lucretius, with the lightest and most ac¬ 
 tive of the Romans, was appointed to attack the Sabine caval¬ 
 ry, as they were driving ofF the cattle, while himself, with the 
 rest of the forces, took a large compass, and enclosed the 
 enemy’s rear. The morning happened to be very foggy, 
 when Posthumius, at dawn, with loud shouts, fell upon the 
 ambuscade from the heights, Lucretius charged the horse in 
 their retreat, and Publicola attacked the enemy’s camp. The 
 Sabines were every where worsted and put to the rout. As the 
 Romans met not with the least resistance, the slaughter was 
 prodigious. It is clear, that the vain confidence of the Sa¬ 
 bines was the principal cause of their ruin. While one par' 
 thought the other was safe, they did not stand upon their de¬ 
 fence; those in the camp ran towards the corps that was placed 
 in ambuscade, while they, in their turn, endeavoured to re- 
 
 f ain the camp. Thus they fell in with each other in great 
 isorder, and in mutual want of that assistance which neither 
 was able to give. The Sabines would have been entirely cut 
 off, had not the city of Fidenae been so near, which proved 
 an asylum to some, particularly those that fled when the camp 
 was taken. Such as did not take refuge there, were either 
 destroyed or taken prisoners. 
 
 The Romans, though accustomed to ascribe every great 
 jyent to the interposition of the gods, gave the credit of" this? 
 victory solely to the general; and the first thing the soldiers 
 were heard to say, was, that Publicola had put the enemy in 
 , ieir hands, lame, blind, am. almost bound for the slaughter. 
 The people were enriched with the plunder and the sale of 
 jrisoners. As for Publicola, he was honoured with a triumph; 
 and having surrendered the administration to the succeeding 
 consuls, he died soon after; thus finishing his life in circum¬ 
 stances esteemed the happiest and mo^t glorious that man can 
 
FUBLICOLA. 
 
 22 i 
 
 attain to.* The people, as if they had done nothing to requite 
 his merit in his lifetime, decreed that his funeral should be 
 solemnized at the public charge; and to make it the more 
 honourable, every one contributed a piece of money called 
 Quadrans. Besides, the women, out of particular regard tc 
 his memory, continued the mourning for him a whole year. 
 By an order of the citizens, his body was likewise interred 
 within the city, near the place called Velia , and all his family 
 were to have a burying place there. At present, indeed, none 
 ot his descendants are interred in that ground; they only car¬ 
 ry the corpse, and set it down there, when one of the attend^- 
 ants puts a lighted torch under it, which he immediately takes 
 back again. Thus they claim by that act the right, but waive 
 the privilege; for the body is taken awav, and interred with¬ 
 out the walls. 
 
 * He was the most virtuous citizen, one of the greatest generals, and the 
 most popular consul Rome ever had. As he had taken more care to trans¬ 
 mit his virtues to his posterity, than to enrich them; and as, notwithstanding 
 the frugality of his life, and the great offices he had borne, there was not 
 found money enough in his house to defray the charges of his funeral, he 
 was buried at the expense of the public. His poverty is a circumstance 
 which Plutarch should have mentioned, because a funeral at the public 
 charge was an honour sometimes paid to the rich. 
 
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 beforehand 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 pro¬ 
 nounces Tellus happy on account of his virtue, his valuable 
 children, and glorious death; yet he mentions him not in his 
 poems as eminently distinguished by his virtue, his children, 
 or his employments. 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 was 
 reckoned among the most honourable; the houses of the Pub- 
 licolse, the Messalae, and Valerii,* illustrious for the space ot 
 six hundred years,t still acknowledging him as the fountain 
 of their honour. Tellus, like a brave man, keeping his post, 
 and fighting to 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 honour, 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:— 
 
 * That is, the other Valerii, viz. the Maximi, the Corvini , the Fotiii, the 
 Lev ini, and the Flacci. 
 
 j- It appears from this passage, that Plutarch wrote this life about the be¬ 
 ginning of Trajan’s reign. 
 
 t Cicero thought this wish of Solon’s unsuitable to so wise a man, ai d 
 preferred to it that of the poet Ennius, who, pleasing himself with the 
 thought of an immortality on earth as a poet, desired to die unlameiued. 
 Cicero rejoiced in the same prospect as an orator. The passion of immor¬ 
 tality is indeed a natural one; but as the chief part of our happiness consists 
 in the exercise of the benevolent aff ections, in giving and receiving sincere 
 testimonies of regard, the undoubted expressions of that regard must sooth 
 the pains of a dying man, and comfort him with the reflection, that he haj 
 not been wanting in the offices of humanity. 
 
SOLON AND FUBL1COLA COMPARED. 22li 
 
 Let friendship’s faithful heart att'en l my bier. 
 
 Heave the sad sigh, and drop the pitying tear. 
 
 And Publicolahad this felicity; for he was lamented, not only 
 oy his friends and relations, but by the whole city ; thousands 
 attended his funeral with tears, with regret, with the deepest 
 sorrow; and the Roman 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 desir’d. 
 
 Life’s real goods, if well acquir’d. 
 
 Unjustly let me never gain, 
 
 Lest vengeance follow in their train. 
 
 And Publicola not only acquired, but employed his riches ho¬ 
 nourably, for he was a generous benefactor to the poor; so that 
 if Solon was the wisest, Publicola was the happiest of human 
 kind. What the former had wished for as the greatest and 
 most desirable of blessings, 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 regulating a democracy; and, like him, 
 laying aside the pride of power, he rendered it gentle and ac¬ 
 ceptable 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 lawgiver 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 quaestors or treasurers was, that if 
 the consul was a worthy man, he might have leisure to attend 
 to greatei affairs; if unworthy, that he might not have greater 
 opportunities of injustice, when both the government and trea¬ 
 sury were under his direction. 
 
 Publicola’s aversion to tyrants was stronger than that of So¬ 
 lon; for the latter made every attempt to set up arbitrary pow¬ 
 er 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 
 
 * By we apprehend that Plutarch here rather means the senate or 
 council of four hundred , than the council of areopagus. The four hundred 
 had the prior cognizance of all that was to come before the people, and no¬ 
 thing could be proposed to the general assembly till digested by them; so 
 that, as far as he was able, he provided against a thirst of arbitrary power in 
 the rich, and a desire of licentious freedom in the commons; the areopagus 
 eing a check upon the former, as the senate was a curb upon the latter. 
 
224 
 
 SOLON AND PUBLICOLA COMPARED. 
 
 state of affairs and the inclinations of the people would have 
 readily admitted it; and yet it was no less glorious for Publico¬ 
 la, when, finding the consular authority too despotic, he render¬ 
 ed it milder and more popular, and did not stretch it so far as 
 he might have done. That this was the best method of go¬ 
 verning, Solon seems to have been sensible before him, when 
 he says of a republic:— 
 
 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 was, in¬ 
 deed, the most effectual way to support the liberty of the peo¬ 
 ple; for laws intended to establish an equality would be of no 
 avail, while the poor were deprived of the benefit of that equa¬ 
 lity by their debts. Where they seemed most to exercise their 
 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 mea¬ 
 sure, too, lost its infamous 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 original, 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 magis¬ 
 tracy, thoroughly established and secured the commonwealth. 
 
 Solon was sensible of the ambitious designs of 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 demolished 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 difference; for 
 Daimachus Plataeensis does not even attribute that enterprise 
 against the Megarensians to Solon, as we have done; whereas 
 
SOLON AND PUBLICOLA COMPARED. 2Zj 
 
 pulticola, 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 concevning the recovery 
 of Salamis. But Publicola, in the face of the greatest danger, 
 rose up against Tarquin, detected the plot, prevented the es¬ 
 cape of the vile conspirators, had them punished, and not only 
 e xcluded the tyrants from the city, but cut up their hopes by 
 the roots. If he was thus vigorous in prosecuting affairs thal 
 required spirit, resolution, and open force, he was still more 
 successful in negotiation and the gentle arts of persuasion; 
 for, by his address, he gained Porsena, whose power was so 
 formidable, 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 recovered 
 Salamis, when the Athenians had given it up; whereas Publi¬ 
 cola surrendered lands that the Romans were in possession of. 
 Our judgment of actions, however, should be formed accord¬ 
 ing to the respective times and postures of affairs. An able 
 politician, to manage all for the best, varies his conduct as the 
 present occasion requires; often quits a part, to save the whole; 
 and, by yielding in small matters, secures considerable advan¬ 
 tages. 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 besieger’s 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 pro¬ 
 posed to himself by a victory; for Porsena put an end to the 
 Vvar, and left the Romans all the provision he had made for 
 t&urying it on, induced by that impression of their virtue and 
 honour, which he had received from Publicola. 
 
 Voi. i.—2H 
 
 21 
 
THE 
 
 LIFE OF THEMISTOCLES. 
 
 The family of Themistocles was too obscure to raise him to 
 distinction. He was the son of Neocles, an inferior citizen of 
 Athens, of the ward of Phrear, and the tribe of Leontis. By 
 bis mother’s side, he is said to have been illegitimate,* accord 
 g to the following verses:— 
 
 Thong'll born in Thrace, Abrotonon my name. 
 
 My son enrols me in the lists of fame, 
 
 The great Themistocles. 
 
 Yet Phanias writes, that the mother of Themistocles was ci 
 Caria, not of Thrace, and that her name was not Abrotonon, 
 but Euterpe. Neanthes mentions Halicarnassus as the city to 
 which she belonged. But be that as it may, when all the ille- 
 
 S itimate youth assembled at Cynosarges, in the wrestling ring 
 edicated to Hercules, without the gates, which was appoint 
 ed for that purpose, because Hercules himself was not alto¬ 
 gether of divine extraction, but had a mortal for his mother; 
 Themistocles found means to persuade some of the young no¬ 
 blemen to go to Cynosarges, and take their exercise with him. 
 This was an ingenious contrivance to take away the distinc¬ 
 tion between the illegitimate or aliens, and the legitimate, 
 whose parents were both Athenians. It is plain, however, 
 that he was related to the house of the Lycomedae;t for Sb 
 monides informs us, that when a chapelt of that family in the 
 ward of Phyle, where the mysteries of Ceres used to be cele¬ 
 brated, was burnt down by the barbarians, Themistocles re 
 built it, and adorned it with pictures. 
 
 It appears, that when a boy, he was full of spirit and fire, 
 quick of apprehension, naturally inclined to bold attempts, and 
 likely to make a great statesman. His hours of leisure and 
 
 * It was a law at Athens, that every citizen who had a foreigner to his mo¬ 
 ther, should be deemed a bastard, though born in wedlock, and should con¬ 
 sequently be incapable of inheriting his father’s estate. 
 
 •f The Lycomedx were a family in Athens, who (according to Pausanias) 
 had the care of the sacrifices offered to Ceres; and in that Chapel which 
 Theseus rebuilt, initiations and other mysteries were celebrated, 
 i Ti Msmyov. 
 
THEMJ TOCLES. 
 
 227 
 
 \ nation he spent not, like other boys, in idleness and play, 
 b At he was always inventing and composing declamations; the 
 subjects of which were either the impeachment or defence ot 
 some of his school-fellows; so that his master would often say, 
 “ Boy, you will be nothing common or indifferent; you will 
 either be a blessing or a curse to the community.” As for 
 moral philosophy, and the polite arts, he learned them but 
 slowly, and with little satisfaction; but instructions in politi¬ 
 cal knowledge, and the administration of public affairs, he re 
 ceived with an attention above his years, Decause they suited 
 his genius. When, therefore, he was laughed at, long after, 
 in company where free scope was given to raillery, by persons 
 who passed as more accomplished in what was called genteel 
 breeding, he v/as obliged to answer them with some asperity 
 “ * * * § Tis true I never learned how to tune a harp, or play upon 
 a lute, but I know how to raise a small and inconsiderable city 
 to glory and greatness.” 
 
 Stesimbrotus, indeed, informs us, that Themistocles studied 
 natural philosophy both under Anaxagoras and Melissus. But 
 in this he errs against chronology;* for when Pericles, who 
 was much younger than Themistocles, besieged Samos, Melis¬ 
 sus defended it, and Anaxagoras lived with Pericles. Those 
 seem to deserve more attention, who say that Themistocles 
 was a follower of Mnesiphilus the Phrearian; who was neithei 
 orator nor natural philosopher, but a professor of what was 
 then called wisdom,! which consisted in a knowledge of the 
 arts of government, and the practical part of political pru¬ 
 dence. This was a sect formed upon the principles of Solon,! 
 and descending in succession from him; but when the science 
 of government came to be mixed with forensic arts, and pass¬ 
 ed from action to mere words, its professors, instead of sages, 
 were called Sophists. § Themistocles, however, was conver- 
 
 * Anaxagoras was born in the first year of the 70th Olympiad; Themisto¬ 
 cles won the battle of Salamis the first year of the 75th Olympiad; and Me¬ 
 lissus defended Samos against Pericles the last year of the 84th Olympiad. 
 Themistocles, therefore, could neither study under Anaxagoras, who was 
 only twenty years old when that general gained the battle of Salamis, nor 
 yet under Melissus, who did not begin to flourish till thirty-six years after 
 that battle. 
 
 j- The first sages were in reality great politicians, who gave rules and pre¬ 
 cepts for the government of communities. Thales was the first who earned 
 his speculations into physics. 
 
 t During the space of about a hundred, or a hundred and twenty years. 
 
 § The Sophists were rather rhetoricians than philosophers, skilled in 
 v/ords, but superficial in knowledge, as Diogenes Laertius informs us. Pro¬ 
 tagoras, who flourished about the 84th Olympiad, a little before the birth 
 of Plato, was the first who had the appellation of Sophist. 15ut Socrates, 
 who was more conversant in morality than in politics, physics, or rhetoric, 
 and who was desirous to improve the world rather in practice than in theo- 
 
228 
 
 THEMISTOCLES. 
 
 sant in public business, when he attended the lectures of 
 Mnesiphilus. 
 
 In the first sallies of youth, he was irregular and unsteady, 
 as he followed his own disposition, without any moral re* 
 straints. He lived in extremes, and those extremes were of¬ 
 ten of the worst kind.* But he seemed to apologize for this 
 afterwards, when he observed, that—“The wildest colts make 
 the best horses, when they come to be properly broke and 
 managed. ” The stories, however, which some tell us, of his 
 father disinheriting him, and his mother laying violent hands 
 upon herself, because she could not bear the thoughts of her 
 son’s infamy, seem to be quite fictitious. Others, on the con¬ 
 trary, say, that his father, to dissuade him from accepting any 
 public employment, showed him some old galleys that lay 
 worn out and neglected on the sea-shore, just as the populace 
 neglect their leaders, when they have no farther service for 
 them. 
 
 Themistocles had an early and violent inclination for public 
 business, and was so strongly smitten with the love of glory, 
 with an ambition of the highest station, that he involved him 
 self in troublesome quarrels with persons of the first rank and 
 influence in the state, particularly with Aristides, the son of 
 Lysimachus, who always opposed him. Their enmity began 
 early, but the cause, as Ariston the philosopher relates, was 
 nothing more than their regard for Stesileus of Teos. After 
 this, their disputes continued about public affairs; and the dis 
 similarity of their lives and manners naturally added to it. 
 Aristides was of a mild temper, and great probity. He 
 managed the concerns of government with inflexible justice, 
 not with a view to ingratiate himself with the people, or to 
 promote his own glory, but solely for the advantage and safety 
 of the state. He was therefore necessarily obliged to oppose 
 Themistocles, and to prevent his promotion, because he fre¬ 
 quently put the people upon unwarrantable enterprises, and 
 was ambitious of introducing great innovations. Indeed, 
 Themistocles was so carried away with the love of glory, so 
 immoderately desirous of distinguishing himself by some great 
 action, that, though he was very young when the battle of 
 
 ry, modestly took the name of Philosophos , i. e. a lover of wisdom , and not 
 that of ISophos, i. e. a sage or wise man . 
 
 * Idomeneus says, that one morning* Themistocles harnessed four naked 
 courtezans in a chariot, and made them draw him across the Ceramicus, in 
 the sight of all the people who were there assembled; and that at a time 
 when the Athenians were perfect strangers to debauchery, either in wine 
 or women. But if that vice was then so little known in Athens, how could 
 there be found four prostitutes impudent enough to be exposed in that man¬ 
 ner ? 
 
THEMISTGCLES. 
 
 22ft 
 
 Marathon was fought, and when the generalship of Miltiades 
 was every where extolled, yet even then he was observed tc 
 keep much alone, to be very pensive, to watch whole nights, 
 and not to attend the usual entertainments. When he was 
 asked the reason by his friends, who wondered at the change, 
 he said,—“ The trophies of Miltiades would not suffer him to 
 sleep.” While others imagined the defeat of the Persians at 
 Marathon, had put an end to the war, he considered it as the 
 beginning of greater conflicts;* and, for the benefit of Greece, 
 he was always preparing himself and the Athenians against 
 those conflicts, because he foresaw them at a distance.t 
 
 And, in the first place, whereas the Athenians had used to 
 share the revenue of the silver mines of Laurium among them¬ 
 selves, he alone had the courage to make a motion to the, peo¬ 
 ple, that they should divide them in that manner no longer, 
 but build with them a number of galleys, to be employed in a 
 war against the iEginetae, who then made a considerable figure 
 in Greece, and, by means of their numerous navy, were mas¬ 
 ters of the sea. By seasonably stirring up the resentment and 
 emulation of his countrymen against these islanders, J he the 
 more easily prevailed with them to provide themselves with 
 ships, than if he had displayed the terrors of Darius and the 
 Persians, who were at a greater distance, and of whose coming 
 they had no great apprehensions. With this money a hundred 
 galleys, with three banks of oars, were built, which afterwards 
 fought against Xerxes. From this step he proceeded to others, 
 in order to draw the attention of the Athenians to maritime 
 affairs, and to convince them, that though by land they were 
 not able to cope with their neighbours, yet with a naval force 
 they might not only repel the barbarians, but hold all Greece 
 in subjection. Thus of good land forces, as Plato says, he 
 made them mariners and seamen, and brought upon himself 
 
 * He did not question but Darius would at length perceive, that the only 
 way to deal with the Greeks, was to attack them vigorously by sea, where 
 they could make the least opposition. 
 
 f The two principal qualifications of a general, are a quick and compre¬ 
 hensive view of what is to be done upon any present emergency, and a hap¬ 
 py foresight of what is to come. Themistocles possessed both these quali¬ 
 fications in a great degree. With respect to the latter, Thucydides gives 
 him this eulogium, it i txwctov yvwjuivx ci^icrcs tiKct;rne. 
 
 t Plutarch in this place follows Herodotus. But Thucydides is express, 
 that Themistocles availed himself of both these arguments, the apprehensions 
 which the Athenians were under of the return of the Persians, as well as the 
 war against the iEginetre. Indeed he could not neglect so powerful an in¬ 
 ducement to strengthen themselves at sea, since, according to Plato, ac¬ 
 counts were daily brought of the formidable preparations of Darius; and up¬ 
 on his death, it appears that Xerxes inherited all his father’s rancour against 
 the Greeks. 
 
 21 
 
230 
 
 TIIEMISTOCLES. 
 
 the aspersion of taking from his countrymen the spear and the 
 shield, and sending them to the bench and the oar. Stesim- 
 brotus writes, that Themistocles effected this in spite of the 
 opposition of Miltiades. Whether by this proceeding he cor¬ 
 rupted the simplicity of the Athenian constitution, is a specu 
 lation not proper to be indulged here; but that the Greeks 
 owed their safety to these naval applications, and that those 
 ships re-established the city of Athens after it had been ae- 
 stroyed, (to omit other proofs) Xerxes himself is a sufficient 
 witness: for, after his defeat at sea, he was no longer able to 
 make head against the Athenians, though his land forces re- 
 •mained entire; and it seems to me, that he left Mardonius ra¬ 
 ther to prevent a pursuit than with any hope of his bringing 
 Greece into subjection. 
 
 Some authors write, that Themistocles was intent upon the 
 acquisition of money, with a view to spend it profusely; and, 
 indeed, for his frequent sacrifices, and the splendid manner in 
 which he entertained strangers, he bad need of a large supply. 
 Yet others, on the contrary, accuse him of meanness and atten 
 tion to trifles, and say, he even sold presents that were made 
 him for his table. Nay, when he begged a colt of Philides, 
 who was a breeder of horses, and was refused, he threatened, 
 “ he would soon make a Trojan horse of his house;’* enigma¬ 
 tically hinting, that he would raise up troubles and impeach 
 ments against him from some of his own family. 
 
 In ambition, however, he had no equal; for when he was 
 yet young, and but little known, he prevailed upon Epicles of 
 Hermione, a performer upon the lyre, much valued by the 
 Athenians, to practise at his house, hoping by this means to 
 draw a great number of people thither. And when he went to 
 the Olympic games, he endeavoured to equal or exceed Cimon, 
 in the elegance of his table, the splendour of his pavilions, and 
 other expenses of his train. These things, however, were not 
 agreeable to the Greeks: they looked upon them as suitable to 
 a young man of a noble family; but when an obscure person 
 set himself up so much above his fortune, he gained nothing 
 by it but the imputation of vanity. He exhibited a tragedy,* 
 too, at his own expense, and gained the prize with his trage¬ 
 dians, at a time when those entertainments were pursued with 
 great avidity and emulation. In memory of his success, he put 
 up this inscription:—“ Themistocles, thePhrearian exhibited 
 
 * Tragedy at this time was just arrived at perfection: and so great a taste 
 had the Athenians for this kind of entertainment, that the principal persona 
 in the commonwealth could not oblige them more, than by exhibiting the best 
 tragedy with the most elegant decorations. Public prizes were appointed 
 for those that excelled in this respect; and it was matter of great emulation 
 to gain them. 
 
THEMISTOCLES. 
 
 231 
 
 the tragedy, Phrynichus composed it,* * * § Adamantus presided.” 
 This gained him popularity; and what added to it was, his 
 charging his memory with the names of the citizens; so that 
 he readily called each by his own. He was an impartial 
 judge, too, in the causes that were brought before him; and 
 Simonides of Ceost making an unreasonable request to him 
 when archon,\ he answered:—“ Neither would you be a good 
 poet, if you transgressed the rules of harmony; nor I a good 
 magistrate, if I granted your petition contrary to law.” Ano¬ 
 ther time he rallied Simonides for “his absurdity in abusing 
 the Corinthians, who inhabited so elegant a city; and hav¬ 
 ing his own picture drawn, when he had so ill-favoured an 
 aspect.” 
 
 At length, having attained to a great height of power and 
 popularity, his faction prevailed, and he procured the banish 
 ment of Aristides by what is called the Ostracism. § 
 
 The Medes now preparing to invade Greece again, the Athe¬ 
 nians considered who should be their general; and many (we 
 are told) thinking the commission dangerous, declined it. 
 But Epicydes, the son of Euphemides, a man of more elo¬ 
 quence than courage, and capable withal of being bribed, so¬ 
 licited it, and was likely to be chosen. Themistocles, fearing 
 the consequence would be fatal to the public, if the choice fell 
 
 * Phrynichus was the disciple of Thespis, who was esteemed the inventor 
 of tragedy. He was the first that brought female actors upon the stage. 
 His chief plays were Action, Alcestis, and the Danaides. JEschylus was 
 his contemporary. 
 
 \ Simonides celebrated the battles of Marathon and Salamis in his poems; 
 and was the author of several odes and elegies: some of which are still ex¬ 
 tant and well known. He was much in the favour of Pausanias, king of Spar¬ 
 ta, and of Hiero, king of Sicily. Plato had so high an opinion of his merit, 
 that he gave him the epithet of divine. He died in the first year of the 78th 
 Olympiad, at almost ninety years of age; so that he was very near fourscore 
 when he described the battle of Salamis. 
 
 t The former translator renders av™ when he was commander 
 
 of the army , which is indeed the sense of it a little below, but not here 
 Plutarch uses the word cvpawyoc for praetor , which is almost synonymous to 
 archon. And in this passage he so explains it himself. Nor should I be a 
 good archon , &c. 
 
 § It is not certain by whom the Ostracism was introduced: some say, by 
 Pisistratus, or rather by his sons; others, by Clisthenes; and others, make it 
 as ancient as the time of Theseus. By this, men, who became powerful to 
 such a degree, as to threaten the state with danger, were banished for ten 
 years; and they were to quit the Athenian territories in ten days. The me¬ 
 thod of it was this: every citizen took a piece of a broken pot or shell, on 
 which he wrote the name of the person he would have banished. This 
 done, the magistrates counted the shells; and, if they amounted to 6000, 
 sorted them; and the man whose name was found on the greatest numbef 
 oi shells, was of course exiled for ten years. 
 
232 
 
 THEMISTOCLES. 
 
 upon Epicydes, prevailed upon him by pecuniary considera¬ 
 tions to drop his pretensions. 
 
 His behaviour is also commended with respect to the inter¬ 
 preter who came with the king of Persia’s ambassadors that 
 were sent to demand earth and water. * * * § By a decree of the 
 people, he put him to death, for presuming to make use of the 
 Greek language to express the demands of the barbarians. 
 To this we may add his proceedings in the affair of Arthmius 
 the Zelite;t who, at his motion, was declared infamous, with 
 bis children and all his posterity, for bringing Persian gold 
 into Greece. But that which redounded most of all to his ho¬ 
 nour was his putting an end to the Grecian wars, reconciling 
 the several states to each other, and persuading them to lay 
 aside their animosities during the war with Persia. In this 
 he is said to have been much assisted by Chileus the Arcadian. 
 As soon as he had taken the command upon him, he endea¬ 
 voured to persuade the people to quit the city, to embark on 
 board their ships, and to meet the barbarians at as great a dis¬ 
 tance from Greece as possible. But many opposing it, he 
 marched at the head of a great army, together with the Lace¬ 
 daemonians, to Tempe, intending to cover Thessaly, which 
 had not as yet declared for the Persians. When he returned 
 without effecting any thing, the Thessalians having embraced 
 the king’s party, and all the country, as far as Boeotia, follow¬ 
 ing their example, the Athenians were more willing to heark¬ 
 en to his proposal to fight the enemy at sea, and sent him with 
 a fleet to guard the straits of Artemisium. J 
 
 When the fleets of the several states were joined, and the 
 majority were of opinion, that Eurybiades should have the 
 chief command, and with his Lacedaemonians begin the en¬ 
 gagement, the Athenians, who had a greater number of ships 
 than all the rest united,§ thought it an indignity to part with 
 
 * This was a demand of submission. But Herodotus assures us, that 
 Xerxes did not send such an embassy to the Athenians: the ambassadors of 
 his father Darius were treated with great indignity when they made that de¬ 
 mand: for the Athenians threw them into a ditch, and told them. There was 
 earth and water enough . 
 
 f Arthmius was of Zele, a town in Asia Minor, but settled at Athens. He 
 was not only declared infamous for bringing in Persian gold, and endeavour¬ 
 ing to corrupt with it some of the principal Athenians, but banished by 
 sound of trumpet. Vide JEschin. Orat. cont. Ctesiphon. 
 
 t At the same time that the Greeks thought of defending the pass of 
 Thermopylae by land, they sent a fleet to hinder the passage of the Persian 
 navy through the straits of Euboea, which fleet rendezvoused at Artemisium. 
 
 § Herodotus tells us, in the beginning of his eighth book, that the Athe 
 nians furnished 127 vessels, and that the whole complement of the rest of 
 the Greeks amounted to no more than 151; of which twenty belonged like¬ 
 wise to the Athenians, who had lent them to the Chalcidians. 
 
THEMISTOCLES. 
 
 233 
 
 the place ol honour. But Themistocles, perceiving the dan¬ 
 ger of any disagreement at that time, gave up the command to 
 Eurybiades, and satisfied the Athenians, by representing to 
 them, that, if they behaved like men in that war, the Grecians 
 would voluntarily yield them the superiority for the future. 
 To him, therefore, Greece seems to owe her preservation, and 
 the Athenians, in particular, the distinguished glory of sur¬ 
 passing their enemies in valour, and their allies in moderat’on. 
 
 The Persian fleet coming up to Aphetse, Eurybiades was 
 astonished at such an appearance of ships, particularly when he 
 was informed that there were two hundred more sailing round 
 S.ciathus. He, therefore, was desirous, without loss of time, 
 to draw nearer to Greece, and to keep close to the Pelopon¬ 
 nesian coast, where he might have an army occasionally to 
 assist the fleet; for he considered the naval force of the Per¬ 
 sians as invincible. Upon this the Euboeans, apprehensive 
 that the Greeks would forsake them, sent Pelagon, to negoti¬ 
 ate privately with Themistocles, and to offer him a large sum 
 of money. He took the money, and gave it (as Herodotus 
 writes) to Eurybiades.'* Finding himself most opposed in his 
 designs by Architeles, captain of the sacred galley ,t who had 
 not money to pay his men, and, therefore, intended immedi¬ 
 ately to withdraw, he so incensed his countrymen against him, 
 that they went in a tumultuous manner on board his ship, and 
 took from him what he had provided for his supper. Archi¬ 
 teles, being much provoked at this insult, Themistocles sent 
 him, in a chest, a quantity of provisions, and at the bottom of 
 it a talent of silver, and desired him to refresh himself that 
 evening, and to satisfy his crew in the morning, otherwise he 
 would accuse him to the Athenians, of having received a bribe 
 from the enemy. This particular is mentioned by Phanias 
 the Lesbian 
 
 Through the several engagements^ with the Persian fleet in 
 
 * According* to Herodotus, the affair was thus:—The Euboeans, not being 
 able to prevail with Eurybiades to remain on their coast till they could car¬ 
 ry off their wives and children, addressed themselves to Themistocles., and 
 made him a present of thirty talents. He took the money, and with five ta¬ 
 lents bribed Eurybiades. Then Adiamanthus the Corinthian, being the only 
 commander who insisted on weighing anchor, Themistocles went on board 
 him, and told him in few words ,—“ Adiamanthus, you shall not abandon us, 
 V)r I will give you a greater present for doing your duty, than the king of 
 the Modes would send you for deserting the allies;” which he performed, 
 by sending him three talents on board. Thus he did what the Euboeans re¬ 
 quested, and saved twenty-two talents for himself. 
 
 f Hie sacred galley was that which the Athenians sent every year to De¬ 
 los, with sacrifices for Apollo; and they pretend it was the same in which 
 Theseus earned the tribute to Crete. 
 
 t They came to three several engagements within three days, in the last 
 
 Vol. i- 2 I 
 
234 
 
 THEMISTOCLES. 
 
 the straits of Euboea were not decisive, yet they were of great 
 advantage to the Greeks, who learned, by experience, that nei¬ 
 ther the number of ships, nor the beauty and splendour of theii 
 ornaments, nor the vaunting shouts and songs of the barbari¬ 
 ans, have any thing dreadful in them to men that know how 
 to fight hand to hand, and are determined to behave gallantly. 
 These things they were taught to despise, when they came to 
 close action, and grappled with the foe. In this case Pindar’s 
 sentiments appear just, when he says of the fight at Artemi¬ 
 sium,— 
 
 ’Twas then that Athens the foundations laid 
 Of Liberty’s fair structure. 
 
 Indeed, intrepid courage is the commencement of victory 
 Artemisium is a maritime place of Euboea, to the north of 
 Hestiaea. Over against it lies Olizon, in the territory that 
 formerly was subject to Philoctet.es, where there is a small 
 temple of Diana of the East, in the midst of a grove. The 
 temple is encircled with pillars of white stone, which, when 
 rubbed with the hand, has both the colour and smell of saffron. 
 On one of the pillars are inscribed the following verses:— 
 
 When on these seas the sons of Athens conquer’d 
 The various powers of Asia, grateful here 
 They rear’d this temple to Diana. 
 
 There is a place still to be seen upon this shore, where there 
 is a large heap of sand, which, if dug into, shows towards the 
 bottom a black dust like ashes, as if some fire had been there; 
 and this is supposed to have been that in which the wrecks of 
 the ships, and the bodies of the dead, were burnt. 
 
 The news of what had happened at Thermopylae being 
 brought to Artemisium,* when the confederates were informed 
 that Leonidas was slain there, and Xerxes master of the pas¬ 
 sages by land, they sailed back to Greece; and the Athenians, 
 elated with their late distinguished valour, brought up the 
 rear. As Themistocles sailed along the coasts, wherever he 
 3aw any harbours or places proper for the enemy’s ships to 
 
 of which Clineas, the father of Alcibiades, performed wonders. He had, at 
 his own expense, fitted out a ship which carried two hundred men. 
 
 * The last engagement at Thermopylae, wherein Xerxes forced the passes 
 of the mountains, by the defeat of the Lacedemonians, Thespians, and The¬ 
 bans, who had been left to guard them, happened on the same day with the 
 battle at Artemisium; and the news of it was brought to Themistocles by an 
 Athenian called Abronichus. Though the action at Thermopylae had not an 
 immediate relation to Themistocles, yet it would have tended more to the 
 glory of that general, if Plutarch had taken greater notice of it; since the 
 advantage gained there by Xerxes, opened Greece to him, and rendered 
 him much more formidable. Thermopylae is well known to be a narrow pas* 
 in the mountains near the Euripus. 
 
THEMISTOCLES. 
 
 23a 
 
 put in at, he took such stones as he happened to find, or caused 
 to be brought thither for that purpose, and set them up in the 
 ports and watering places, with the following inscription en¬ 
 graved in large characters, and addressed to the Ionians:— 
 “ Let the Ionians, if it be possible, come over to the Greeks, 
 from whom they are descended, and who now risk their lives 
 for their liberty. If this be impracticable, let them, at least, 
 perplex the barbarians, and put them in disorder in time oi 
 action. By this he hoped either to bring the Ionians over to 
 his side, or to sow discord among them, by causing them to 
 be suspected by the Persians. 
 
 Though Xerxes had passed through Doris, down to Phocis, 
 and was burning and destroying the Phocian cities, yet the 
 Greeks sent them no succours. And, notwithstanding all the 
 entreaties the Athenians could use, to prevail with the confe¬ 
 derates to repair with them into Bceotia, and cover the fron¬ 
 tiers of Attica, as they had sent a fleet to Artemisium to serve 
 the common cause, no one gave ear to their request. All eyes 
 were turned upon Peloponnesus, and all were determined to 
 collect their forces within the isthmus , and to build a wall 
 across it from sea to sea. The Athenians were greatly incens¬ 
 ed to see themselves thus betrayed, and, at the same time, de¬ 
 jected and discouraged at so general a defection. They alone 
 could not think of giving battle to so prodigious an army. To 
 quit the city, and embark on board their ships, was the only 
 expedient at present: and this the generality were very unwil¬ 
 ling to hearken to, as they could neither have any great ambi¬ 
 tion for victory, nor idea of safety, when they had left the 
 temples of their gods, and the monuments of their ancestors. 
 
 Themistocles, perceiving that he could not, by the force of 
 human reason, prevail with the multitude,* set his machinery 
 to work as a poet would do in a tragedy, and had recourse to 
 prodigies and oracles. The prodigy he availed himself of, 
 was the disappearing of the dragon of Minerva, which, at that 
 time, quitted the holy place; and the priests, finding the daily 
 offerings set before it untouched, gave it out among the peo¬ 
 ple, at the suggestion of Themistocles, that the goddess had 
 forsaken the city, and that she offered to conduct them to sea. 
 Moreover, by way of explaining to the people an oracle then 
 received,t he told them, that by wooden walls , there could not 
 
 * He prevailed so effectually at h\st, thai the Athenians stoned Cyrisilus, an 
 orator, who vehemently opposed him; and urged all the common topics of 
 love to the place of one’s birth, and the affection to wives and helpless in¬ 
 fants. The women, too, to show how far they were from desiring that the 
 cause of Greece should suffer for them, stoned his wife. 
 
 j- This was the second oracle which the Athenian deputies received from 
 Anstonice, priestess of Apollo. Many were of opinion, that, by the walls of 
 
236 
 
 THEMISTOCLES. 
 
 possibly be any thing meant but ships; and that Apollo, now 
 calling Salamis divine, not wretched and unfortunate , as former¬ 
 ly, signified by such an epithet, that it would be productive 
 of some g~eat advantage to Greece. His councils prevailed, 
 and he prcposed a decree, that the city should be left to the 
 protection of Minerva,* the tutelary goddess of the Athenians; 
 that the young men should go on board the ships; and that 
 every one should provide, as well as he possibly could, for the 
 safety of the children, the women, and the slaves. 
 
 When this decree was made, most of the Athenians remov¬ 
 ed their parents and wives to Troezene,t where they were re 
 ceived with a generous hospitality. The Troezenians came 
 to a resolution, to maintain them at the public expense; foi 
 which purpose they allowed each of them two oholi a day; they 
 permitted the children to gather fruit wherever they pleased, 
 and provided for their education, by paying their tutors. This 
 order was procured by Nicagoras. 
 
 As the treasury of Athens was then but low, Aristotle in¬ 
 forms us that the court of Areopagus distributed to every man, 
 who took part in the expedition, eight drachmas; which was 
 the principal means of manning the fleet. But Clidemus 
 ascribes this also to a stratagem of Themistocles; for he tells us. 
 that when the Athenians went down to the harbour of Piraeus, 
 the JEgis was lost from the statue of Minerva; and Themisto¬ 
 cles, as he ransacked every thing, under pretence of searching 
 for it, found large sums of money hid among the baggage, 
 which he applied to the public use; and out of it all necessaries 
 were provided for the fleet. 
 
 The embarkation of the people of Athens was a very affect 
 ing scene. What pity! what admiration of the firmness of 
 those men, who, sending their parents and families to a dis¬ 
 tant place, unmoved with their cries, their tears, or embraces, 
 had the fortitude to leave the city, and embark for Salamis! 
 What greatly heightened the distress, was the number of citi- 
 
 wood which she advised them to have recourse to, was meant the citadel 
 because it was palisaded; but others thought it could intend nothing* but 
 ships. The maintainers of the former opinion urg*ed ag*ainst such as sup¬ 
 ported the latter, that the last line but one of he oracle, Cl eutohut Jt 
 
 cv nvtv* )uv*/xav, was directly ag*ainst him, and that, without question, it por¬ 
 tended. the destruction of the Athenian fleet near Salamis. Themistocles 
 alleg*ea in answer, that if the oracle had intended to foretel the destruction 
 of the Athenians, it would not have called it the divine Salamis, but the un¬ 
 happy; and that, whereas, the unfortunate in the oracle were styled the soni 
 of women, it could mean no other than the Persians, who were scandalously 
 effeminate.— Herodot. 1. vii. c. 143, 144. 
 
 * But how was this, when he had before told the people, that Minerva had 
 forsaken the city? 
 
 f Theseus, the great he *o in Athenian story, was originally of Tra-ze i 
 
THEMISTOCLES. 
 
 237 
 
 ?:ens whom they were forced to leave behind, because 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, unwilling 
 to be left behind, is said to have leaped into the sea, and to 
 have swam by the side of the ship, till it reached Salamis, 
 /vhere, quite spent with toil, it died immediately. And they 
 show us to this day a place called Cynos Sema , where they tel 
 us that dog was buried. 
 
 To these great actions of Themistocles may be added the. 
 following. He perceived that Aristides was much regretted 
 by the people, who were apprehensive that, out of revenge, he 
 might join the Persians, and do great prejudice to the cause 
 of Greece; he, therefore, caused a decree to be made, that all 
 who had been banished only for a time, should have leave to 
 return, and by their counsel and valour assist their fellow-citi 
 zens in the preservation of their country. 
 
 Eurybiades, by reason of the dignity of Sparta, had the com * 
 mand of the fleet; but as he was apprehensive of the danger,1 
 he proposed to set sail for the Isthmus , and fix his station near 
 the Peloponnesian army. Themistocles, however, opposed 
 it; and the account we have of the conference on that occasion, 
 deserves to be mentioned. When Eurybiades said,J—“ Do 
 not you know, Themistocles, that in the public games, such as 
 rise up before their turn, are chastised for it?”—“ Yes,” an¬ 
 swered Themistocles; “ yet such as are left behind never gain 
 the crown.” Eurybiades, upon this, lifting up his staff, as if 
 he intended to strike him, Themistocles said,—“ Strike, if 
 you please, but hear me.” The Lacedaemonian, admiring his 
 command of temper, bade him speak what he had to say; and 
 Themistocles was leading him back to the subject, when one 
 of the officers thus interrupted him,—“It ill becomes you, 
 who have no city, to advise us to quit our Habitations,* and 
 abandon our country . 99 Themistocles retorted upon him thus: 
 
 # In this description, we find strong’ traces of Plutarch’s humanity and 
 good nature. 
 
 f It does not appear that Eurybiades wanted courage. After Xerxes had 
 gained the pass of Thermopylae, it was the general opinion of the chief of¬ 
 ficers of the confederate fleet assembled ir. council (except those of Athens), 
 that their only resource was to build a strong wall across the isthmus, and to 
 defend Peloponnesus against the Persians. Besides, the Lacedaemonians, 
 who were impartial judges of men and things, gave the palm of valour to 
 Eurybiades, and that of prudence to Themistocles. 
 
 i Herodotus says, this conversation passed between Adiamanthus, general 
 of the Corinthians, and Themistocles; but Plutarch relates it with more pro 
 bability of Eurybiades, who was commander in chief, 
 
 22 
 
238 
 
 THEMISTOCLES. 
 
 “Wretch that thou art, we have, indeed, left our walls and 
 houses, not choosing, for the sake of those inanimate things, 
 to become slaves; yet we have still the most respectable city of 
 Greece in these two hundred ships which are here ready to 
 defend you, if you will give them leave. But if you forsake 
 and betray us a second time, Greece shall soon .find the Athe¬ 
 nians possessed of as free a city,'* * * § and as valuable a country, 
 as that which they have quitted.” These words struck Eury- 
 Hades with the apprehension that the Athenians might fall oft’ 
 from him. We are told also, that as a certain Eretrian was 
 attempting to speak, Themistocles said,—“What! have you 
 too something to say about war, who are like the fish that has 
 a sword, but no heart?” 
 
 While Themistocles was thus maintaining his argument 
 upon deck, some tell us an owl was seen flying to the right 
 of the fleet,t which came and perched upon the shrouds 
 This omen determined the confederates to accede to his opin 
 ion, and to prepare for a sea-fight. But no sooner did the ene¬ 
 my’s fleet appear advancing towards the harbour of Phalerus 
 in Attica, and covering all the neighbouring coasts, while 
 Xerxes himself was seen marching his land forces to the shore, 
 than the Greeks, struck with the sight of such prodigious 
 armaments, began to forget the counsel of Themistocles; and 
 the Peloponnesians once more looked towards the Isthmus . 
 Nay, they resolved to set sail that very night, and such orders 
 were given to all the pilots. Themistocles, greatly concerned 
 that the Greeks were going to give up the advantage of their 
 station in the straits, J and to retire to their respective coun¬ 
 tries, contrived that stratagem which was put in execution by 
 Sicinus. This Sicinus was of Persian extraction,§ and a cap¬ 
 tive, but much attached to Themistocles, and the tutor of his 
 children. On this occasion Themistocles sent him privately to 
 
 * The address of Themistocles is very much to be admired. If Eurybiades 
 was really induced by his fears to return to the isthmus, the Athenian took 
 a right method to remove those fears by suggesting greater; for what other 
 free country could he intimate that the people of Athens would acquire, but 
 that, when driven from their own city, in their distress and despair, they might 
 seize the state of Sparta? 
 
 f The owl was sacred to Minerva, the protectress of the Athenians. 
 
 t If the confederates had quitted the straits of Salamis, where they coulc 
 equal the Persians in the line of battle, such of the Athenians as were in that 
 island must have become an easv prey to the enemy; and the Persians 
 would have found an open sea on the Peloponnesian coast, where they could 
 act with all their force against the ships of the allies. 
 
 § Probably it was from an erroneous reading of a passage in Herodotus, 
 viz. mfjLTrii tig 'To QTp'j.TC'XiSoVy tcdv MyJrn clvS'qu, rrkotto, instead of To Mxfwr, that 
 Plutarch calls Sicinus a Persian. JEschylus, however, who was in this action, 
 speaking of Sicinus, savs, Jl certain Greek from the army of the Athcwaxui 
 told Xeives, &c. 
 
THEMISTOCLES. 
 
 239 
 
 *he king of Persia, with orders to tell him, that the command¬ 
 er of the Athenians, having espoused his interest, was the firs 4 
 to inform him of the intended flight of the Greeks; and that he 
 exhorted him not to suffer them to escape, but while they were 
 in this confusion, and at a distance from their land forces, to 
 attack and destroy their whole navy. 
 
 Xerxes took this information kindly, supposing it to proceed 
 from friendship, and immediately gave orders to his officers, 
 with tyvo hundred ships, to surround all the passages, and to 
 enclose the islands, that none of the Greeks might escape, and 
 then to follow with the rest of the ships at their leisure. Aris¬ 
 tides, the son of Lysimachus, was the first that perceived this 
 motion of the enemy; and though he was not in friendship 
 with Themistocles, but had been banished by his means (as 
 has been related), he went to him, and told him they were sur 
 rounded by the enemy/* Themistocles, knowing his probity, 
 and charmed wrh his coming to give this intelligence, ac¬ 
 quainted him with the affair of Sicinus, and entreated him to 
 lend his assistance to keep the Greeks in their station, and, as 
 they had a confidence in his honour, to persuade them to come 
 to an engagement in the straits. Aristides approved the pro¬ 
 ceedings of Themistocles, and going to the other admirals and 
 captains, encouraged them to engage. While they hardly 
 gave credit to his report, a Tenian galley, commanded by 
 Paraetius, came over from the enemy to bring the same ac¬ 
 count; so that indignation, added to necessity, excited the 
 Greeks to their combat, t 
 
 As soon as it was day, Xerxes sat down on an eminence, to 
 view the fleet and its order of battle. He placed himself, as 
 Phanodemus writes, above the temple of Hercules, where the 
 isle of Salamis is separated from Attica by a narrow frith; but, 
 according to Acestodorus, on the confines of Megara, upon a 
 spot called Kerata , “the hoi ns.” He was seated on a throne 
 
 * Aristides was not then in the confederate fleet, but in the isle of JEgina, 
 from whence he sailed by night, with great hazard, through the Persian 
 fleet, to carry this intelligence. 
 
 f The different conduct of the Spartans and the Athenians on this occa¬ 
 sion seems to show how much superior the accommodating laws of Solon 
 were to the austere discipline of Lycurgus. Indeed, while the institutions 
 of the latter remained in force, the Lacedaemonians were the greatest of all 
 people. But that was impossible. The severity of Lycurgus’s legislation 
 naturally tended to destroy it. Nor was this all. From the extremes of 
 abstemio is hardships, the next step was not to a moderate enjoyment of 
 life, but to all the licentiousness of the most effeminate luxury. The laws 
 of Lycurgus made men of the Spartan women* when they were broken, 
 they made womer *f the men. 
 
240 
 
 THEMISTOCLES 
 
 of gold,* and had many secretaries about him, whose business 
 it was to write down the particulars of the action. 
 
 In the mean time, as Themistocles was sacrificing on the 
 deck of the admiral-galley, three captives were brought to 
 him of uncommon beauty, elegantly attired, and set off with 
 golden ornaments. They wei\3 said to be tne sons of Au- 
 tarctus and Sandace, sister to Xerxes. Euphrantides, the 
 soothsayer, casting his eye upon them, and at the same time 
 observing that a bright flame blazed out from the victims,! 
 while a sneezing was heard from the right, took Themistocles 
 by the hand and ordered that the three youths should be con¬ 
 secrated and sacrificed to Bacchus Omestes-,% for by this means 
 the Greeks might be assured not only of safety, but victory. 
 
 Themistocles was astonished at the strangeness and cruelty 
 of the order; but the multitude, who, in great and pressing 
 difficulties, trust rather to absurd than rational methods, in¬ 
 voked the god with one voice, and leading the captives to the 
 altar, insisted upon their being offered up, as the soothsayer 
 had directed. This particular we have from Phanias the Les¬ 
 bian, a man not unversed in letters and philosophy. 
 
 As to the number of the Persian ships, the poet iEschylus 
 speaks of it, in his tragedy entitled Persae , as a matter he was 
 well assured of:— 
 
 A thousand, ships (for well I know the number) 
 
 The Persian flag' obey’d; two hundred more 
 And seven, o’erspread the seas. 
 
 The Athenians had only one hundred and eighty galleys, 
 each carried eighteen men that fought upon deck, four of 
 whom were archers, and the rest heavy armed. 
 
 If Themistocles was happy in choosing a place for action, 
 he was no less so in taking advantage of a proper time for it, 
 for he would not engage tne enemy till that time of day when 
 a brisk wind usually arises from the sea, which occasions a 
 high surf in the channel. This was no inconvenience to the 
 
 * This throne, or seat, whether of gold or silver, or both, was taken and 
 earned to Athens, where it was consecrated in the temple of Minerva, with 
 the golden sabre of Mardonius, which was taken afterwards in the battle 
 of Plataea. Demosthenes calls it S'Kp^ov a.^yv^o7roJ'at i a chair with silver feet. 
 
 f A bright flame was always considered as a fortunate omen, whether it 
 wete a real one issuing from an altar, or a seeming one, (what we call shell¬ 
 fire,) from the head of a living person. Vi r gil mentions one of the latter 
 sort, which appeared about the head of lulus and Forus, a - d another that 
 was seen about the head of Servius Tullius. A sneezing on the right hand, 
 too, was deemed a lucky omen both by the Greeks and Latins. 
 
 $ In the same manner, Chios, Tenedos, and Lesbos, offered human sacrifi¬ 
 ces to Bacchus, surnamed Omodius. But this is the sole instance we know 
 among the Athenians. 
 
rHEMISTOCLES. 
 
 241 
 
 Grecian vessels, which were low built and well compared; 
 but a very great one to the Persian ships, which had high 
 sterns and lofty decks, and were heavy and unwieldy; for it 
 caused them to veer in such a manner, that their sides were 
 exposed to the Greeks, who attacked them furiously. During 
 Ihe whole dispute, great attention was given to the motions of 
 Themistocles, as it was believed he knew best howto proceed 
 Ariamenes, the Persian admiral, a man of distinguished ho¬ 
 nour, arid by far the bravest of the king’s brothers, directed 
 his manoeuvres chiefly against him. His ship was very tall, 
 and from thence he threw darts, and shot forth arrows as from 
 the walls of a castle. But Aminias the Decelean , and Sosicles 
 the Pedian, who sailed in one bottom, bore down upon him 
 with their prow, and both ships meeting, they were fastened 
 together by means of their brazen beaks; when Ariamene3 
 boarding their galley, they received him with their pikes, and 
 pushed him into the sea. Artemisia* knew the body amongst 
 others that were floating with the wreck, and carried it to 
 Xerxes. 
 
 While the fight was thus raging, we are told a great lighu 
 appeared as from Eleusis; and loud sounds and voices were 
 heard through all the plain of Thriasia to the sea, as of a great 
 number of people carrying the mystic symbols of Bacchus in 
 procession, t A cloud, too, seemed to rise from among the 
 crowd that made this noise, and to ascend by degrees, till it 
 fell upon the galleys. Other phantoms also, and apparitions 
 of armed men, they thought they saw, stretching out thei' 
 hands from iEgina before the Grecian fleet. These they con. 
 jectured to be the JEacidx,% to whom, before the battle, they 
 had addressed their prayers for succour. 
 
 The first man that took a ship was an Athenian, named Ly- 
 
 * Artemisia, queen of Halicarnassus, distinguished herself above all the 
 rest of the Persian forces, her ships being the last that fled; which Xerxes 
 observing, cried out, that the men behaved like women, and the women 
 with the courage and intrepidity of men. The Athenians were so incensed 
 against her, that they offered a reward of ten thousand drachmas to any one 
 that should take her alive. This princess must not be confounded with that 
 Artemisia who was the wife of Mausolus, king of Caria. 
 
 *f Herodotus says, these voices were heard, and this vision seen, some days 
 before the battle, while the Persian land forces were ravaging the territories 
 of Attica. Dicams, an Athenian exile (who hoped thereby to procure a miti¬ 
 gation of his country’s fate,) was the first that observed the thing, and car¬ 
 ried an account of it to Xerxes. 
 
 t A vessel had been sent to iEgina to implore the assistance of JEacus and 
 bis descendants. iEacus was the son of Jupite ’, and had been king of 
 /Eg ; na. He was so remarkable for his justice, that his prayers, whilst lie 
 lived, are said to have procured great advantages to the Greeks; and, after 
 his death, it was believed that he was appointed one of the three judges in 
 the infernal regions. 
 
 Vol. I.- 2 K 
 
 22 * 
 
242 
 
 THEMISTOCLES. 
 
 comedes, captain of a galley, who cut down the ensigns from 
 the enemy’s ship, and consecrated them to the laurelled Apollo. 
 As the Persians could come up in the straits but few at a time, 
 and often put each other in confusion, the Greeks equalling 
 them in the line, fought them till the evening, when they 
 broke them entirely, and gained that signal and complete vic¬ 
 tory, than which (as Simonides says) no other naval achieve¬ 
 ment, either of the Greeks or barbarians, ever was more glo- 
 rious. This success was owing to the valour, indeed, of all 
 the confederates, but chiefly to the sagacity and conduct of 
 Themistocles.* 
 
 After the battle, Xerxes, full of indignation at his disap¬ 
 pointment, attempted to join Salamis to the continent, by a 
 mole so well secured, that his land forces might pass over it 
 into the island, and that he might shut up the pass entirely 
 against the Greeks. At the same time, Themistocles, to 
 sound Aristides, pretended it was his own opinion that they 
 should sail to the Hellespont, and break down the bridge of 
 ships.—“ For so,” says he, “we may take Asia, without stir¬ 
 ring out of Europe.” Aristidest did not in the least relish 
 his proposal, but answered him to this purpose:—“ Till now 
 we have had to do with an enemy immersed in luxury; but if 
 we shut him up in Greece, and drive him to necessity, he, 
 who is master of such prodigious forces, will no longer sit un- 
 ler a golden canopy, and be a quiet spectator of the proceed¬ 
 ings of the war, but, awaked by danger, attempting every thing, 
 and present every where, he will correct his past errors, and 
 follow counsels better calculated for success. Instead, there¬ 
 fore, of breaking that bridge, we should, if possible, provide 
 another, that he may retire the sooner out of Europe.” “ If 
 that is the case,” said Themistocles, “ we must all consider 
 and contrive how to put him upon the most speedy retreat out 
 of Greece.” 
 
 This being resolved upon, he sent one of the king’s eunuchs, 
 whom he found among the prisoners, Arnaces by name, to ac¬ 
 quaint him,—“That the Greeks, since their victory at sea, 
 were determined to sail to the Hellespont, and destroy the 
 bridge: but that Themistocles, in care for the king’s safety? 
 advised him to hasten towards his own seas, and pass over in¬ 
 to Asia, while his friend endeavoured to find out pretences of 
 delay, to prevent the confederates from pursuing him.” 
 
 * In this battle, which was one of the most memorable we find in history, 
 the Grecians lost forty ships, ar„d the Persians two hundred, besides a great 
 many more that were taken. 
 
 f According* to Herodotus, it was not Aristides, but Eurybiades, who made 
 this repl) to Themist >clc6. 
 
FHEMISTOCLES. 
 
 243 
 
 Xerxes, terrified at the news, retired with the greatest pre¬ 
 cipitation.* How prudent the management of TThemistocles 
 and Aristides was, Moidonius afforded a proof, when, with a 
 fimall part of the king’s forces, he put the Greeks in extreme 
 danger of losing all in the battle of Platsea. 
 
 Herodotus tells us, that, among the cities, iEgina bore away 
 the palm; but among the commanders, Themistoeles, in spite 
 of envy, was universally allowed to have distinguished him¬ 
 self most; for when they came to the isthmus, and every offi¬ 
 cer took a billet from the altar,t to inscribe upon it the names 
 of those that had done the best service, every one put himself 
 ir the first place, and Themistoeles in the second. The La- 
 jedaemonians, having conducted him to Sparta, adjudged Eu- 
 rybiades the prize of valour, and Themistoeles that of wis¬ 
 dom, honouring each with a crown of olive. They likewise 
 presented the latter with the handsomest chariot in the city, 
 and ordered three hundred of their youth to attend him to the 
 borders. At the next Olympic games, too, we are told, that 
 as soon as Themistoeles appeared in the ring, the champions 
 were overlooked by the spectators, who kept their eyes upon 
 him all the day, and pointed him out to strangers with the ut¬ 
 most admiration and applause. This incense was extremely 
 grateful to him; and he acknowledged to his friends that he 
 then reaped the fruit of his labours for Greece. 
 
 Indeed he was naturally very ambitious, if we may form a 
 conclusion from his memorable acts and sayings. 
 
 For, when elected admiral b y the Athenians, he would not 
 despatch any business, whether public or private, singly, but 
 put off all affairs to the day he was to embark, that having a 
 great deal to do, he might appear with the greater dignity and 
 importance. 
 
 One day, as he was looking upon the dead bodies cast up 
 by the sea, and saw a number of chains of gold and bracelets 
 upon them, he passed by them, and turning to his friend said, 
 “ Take these things for yourself, for you are not Themisto- 
 cles.” 
 
 * Xerxes, having* left Mardonius in Greece with an army of three hundred 
 thousand men, marched with the rest towards Thrace, in order to cross the 
 Hellespont. As no provisions had been prepared beforehand, his army un¬ 
 derwent great hardships during the whole time of his march, which lasted 
 five-and-forty days. The king, finding they were not in a condition to pur¬ 
 sue their route so expedHiously as he desired, advanced with a small retinue, 
 but when he arrived at the Hellespont, he found his bridge of boats broken 
 down by the violence of the storms, and was reduced to the necessity of 
 crossing over in a fishing-boat. From the Hellespont he continued his flight 
 to Sardis. > 
 
 \ The altar of Neptune. This solemnity was designed to make them give 
 their judgment impartially, as in the presence of the gods. 
 
244 
 
 THEMISTOCLES. 
 
 To Antiphates, who had formerly treated him with disdain, 
 but in his glory made his court to him, he said,—“ Young 
 man, we are both come to our senses at the same time, though 
 a little too late.” 
 
 He used to say,—“The Athenians paid him no honour 01 
 sincere respect; but when a storm arose, or danger appeared, 
 they sheltered themselves under him, as under a plane-tree, 
 which, when the weather was fair again, they would rob ot 
 its leaves and branches.” 
 
 When one of Seriphus told him,—“ He was not so much 
 honoured for his own sake, but for his country’s;”—“True,” 
 answered .Themistocles, “for neither should I have been 
 greatly distinguished if I had been of Seriphus, nor you, if 
 you had been an Athenian.” 
 
 Another officer, who thought he had done the state some 
 service, setting himself up against Themistocles, and ventur¬ 
 ing to compare his own exploits w T ith his, he answered him 
 with this fable;—“ There once happened a dispute between 
 the feast-day and the day after the feast: Says the day after the 
 feast , I am full of bustle and trouble; whereas, with you, folks 
 enjoy at their ease every thing ready provided. You say 
 right, says the feast-day, but if 1 had not been before you, you 
 would not have been at all. So, had it not been for me, then, 
 where would you have been now.”* 
 
 His son being master of his mother, and by her means of 
 him, he said, laughing,—“ This child is greater than any man 
 in Greece; for the Athenians command the Greeks, I com¬ 
 mand the Athenians, his mother commands me, and he com • 
 mands his mother.” 
 
 As he loved to be particular in every thing, when he hap- 
 
 ! ,ened to sell a farm, he ordered the crier to add,—“that it 
 lad a good neighbour.” 
 
 Two citizens courting his daughter, he preferred the worthy 
 man to the rich one, and assigned this reason,—“He had 
 rather she should have a man without money, than money 
 without a man.” Such was the pointed manner in which he 
 often expressed himself, t 
 
 After the greatest actions we have related, his next enter¬ 
 prise was to rebuild and fortify the city of Athens. Theo- 
 pompus tells us, he bribed the Lacedaemonian Ephori , that they 
 
 * There is the genuine Attic salt in most of*these retorts and observations 
 of Themistocles. His wit seems to have been equal to his military and po¬ 
 litical capacity. 
 
 j- Cicero has preserved another of his sayings, which deserves mentioning. 
 When Simonides offered to teach Themistocles the art of memory, he an¬ 
 swered, Ah! rather teach me the art of fort'getting; for Ic r tm re member what t 
 would noty and can not forget what I would. 
 
THEMISTOCLES. 
 
 245 
 
 might not opjose it; but most historians say he overreached 
 them. He was sent, it seems, on pretence of an embassy, tc 
 Sparta. The Spartans complained that the Athenians were 
 fortifying their city, and the governor of Angina, who was 
 come for that purpose, supported the accusation. But The- 
 mistocles absolutely denied it, and challenged them to send 
 proper persons to Athens to inspect the walls; at once gaining 
 time for finishing them, and contriving to have hostages at 
 Aliens for his return. The event answered his expectation, 
 fx the Lacedaemonians, when assured how the fact stood, 
 dissembled their resentment, and let him go with impunity. 
 
 After this, he built and fortified the Piraeus (having ob 
 served the conveniency cf that harbour); by which means he 
 gave the city every maritime accommodation. In this re¬ 
 spect his politics were very different from those of the ancient 
 kings of Athens. They, we are told, used their endeavours 
 to draw the attention of their subjects from the business ol 
 navigation, that they might turn it entirely to the culture of 
 the ground; and to this purpose they published the fable of 
 the contention between Minerva and Neptune, for the patron 
 age of Attica, when the former, by producing an olive-tree be¬ 
 fore the judges, gained her cause. Themistocles did not bring 
 the Piraeus into the city, as Aristophanes the comic poet woula 
 have it; but he joined the city by a line of communication to 
 the Piraeus, and the land to the sea. This measure strength¬ 
 ened the people against the nobility, and made them bolder 
 smd more untractable, as power came with wealth into the 
 hands of masters of ships, mariners, and pilots. Hence it was, 
 that the oratory in Pnyx , which was built to front the sea, was 
 afterwards turned by the thirty tyrants towards the land;* for 
 they believed a maritime power inclinable to a democracy, 
 whereas persons employed in agriculture would be less uneasy 
 under an oligarchy. 
 
 Themistocles had something still greater in view for 
 strengthening the Athenians by sea. After the retreat of 
 Xerxes, when the Grecian fleet was gone into the harbour ol 
 Pagasse to winter, he acquainted the citizens in full assembly, 
 —“ That he had hit upon a design which might greatly con 
 tribute to their advantage, but it was not fit to be communi 
 cated to their whole body. The Athenians ordered him to 
 communicate it to Aristides only,t and if he approved of it, 
 to put it in execution. Themistocles then informed him,— 
 “ That he had thoughts of burning the confederate fleet at Pa- 
 
 * The thirty tyrants were established at Athens by Lysander, 403 years be¬ 
 fore the Christian era, and 77 years after the battle of Salamis. 
 
 f How glorious this testimony of the public regard to Aristides, from a 
 people then so free, and withal so virtuous ! 
 
246 
 
 THEMISTOCLES. 
 
 gasae. Upon which, Aristides went and declared to the peo¬ 
 ple,—“That the enterprise which Themistocles proposed, was 
 indeed the most advantageous in the world, but at the same 
 time the most unjust.” The Athenians therefore commanded 
 aim to lay aside all thoughts of it.* 
 
 About this time the Lacedaemonians made a motion in the 
 assembly of the Amphictyons , to exclude from that council all 
 those states that had not joined in the confederacy against the 
 king of Persia. But Themistocles was apprehensive, that if 
 the Thessalians, the Argives, and Thebans, were expelled 
 from the council, the Lacedaemonians would have a great ma 
 jority of voices, and consequently procure wdiat decrees they 
 pleased. He spoke, therefore, in defence of those states, and 
 brought the deputies olf from that design, by representing thal 
 thirty-one cities only had their share of the burden of that war, 
 and that the greatest part of these were but of small considera¬ 
 tion; that consequently it would be both unreasonable and dan¬ 
 gerous to exclude the rest of Greece from the league, and 
 leave the council to be dictated to by two or three great cities. 
 By this he became very obnoxious to the Lacedaemonians, who, 
 for this reason, set up Cimon against him as a rival in all af¬ 
 fairs of state, and used all their interest for his advancement 
 He disobliged the allies also, by sailing round the islands, 
 and extorting money from them; as we may conclude from 
 the answer which Herodotus tells us the Andrians gave him 
 to a demand of that sort. He told them,—“ He brought two 
 gods along with him, Persuasion and Force.” They replied,— 
 “ They had also two great gods on their side, Poverty and Zte- 
 spair , who forbade them to satisfy him.” Timocreon, the 
 Rhodian poet, writes with great bitterness against Themisto¬ 
 cles, and charges him with betraying him, though his friend 
 and host, for money, while, for the like paltry consideration, 
 he procured the return of other exiles. So in these versesr- 
 
 Pausanias you may praise, and you Xantippus, 
 
 And you Leotychidas: But sure the hero. 
 
 Who bears th’ Athenian palm, is Aristides. 
 
 AVhat is the false, the vain Themistocles? 
 
 The very light is grudg’d him by Latona, 
 
 Who for vile pelf betrayed Timocreon, 
 
 * It is hardly possible for the military and political genius of Themistocles 
 to save him from contempt and detestation, when we arrive at this part of 
 
 his conduct.-A serious proposal to burn the confederate fleet! - ■ 
 
 That fleet, whose united efforts had saved Greece from destruction!—which 
 had fought under his auspices with such irresistible valour!—That sacred 
 fleet, the minutest parts of which should have been religiously preserved, 
 or, if consumed, consumed only on the altars, and in the service of the gods' 
 -How diabolical is that policy, which, in its way to power, tramples or. 
 humanity, justice and gratitude! 
 
THEMISTOCLES. 
 
 247 
 
 His friend and host: nor gave him to behold 
 His dear Jalysus. For three talents more 
 He sail’d, and left him on a foreign coast. 
 
 What fatal end awaits the man that kills, 
 
 That banishes, that sets the villain up. 
 
 To fill his glitt’ring stores? While ostentation. 
 
 With vain airs, fain would boast the generous .land. 
 
 And at the isthmus spreads a public board 
 
 For crowds that eat, and curse him at the banquet. 
 
 But Timocreon gave a still looser rein to his abuse of Themis 
 ocles, after the condemnation and banishment of that great 
 man, in a poem which begins thus:— 
 
 Muse, crown’d with glory, bear this faithful strain, 
 
 Far as the Grecian name extends.- 
 
 Timocreon is said to have been banished by Themistocles, lor 
 favouring the Persians. When therefore Themistocles was 
 accused of the same traitorous inclinations, he wrote against 
 him as follows:— 
 
 Timocreon’s honour to the Mcdes is sold, 
 
 But yet not his alone: Another fox 
 Finds the same fields to prey in. 
 
 As the Athenians, through envy, readily gave ear to calum 
 nies against him, he was often forced to recount his own ser¬ 
 vices, which rendered him still more insupportable; and when 
 they expressed their displeasure, he said,—“ Are you weary 
 of receiving benefits often from the same hand?” 
 
 Another offence he gave the people, was, his building a tem¬ 
 ple to Diana, under the name of Jiristobule , or, Diana of the best 
 counsel; intimating that he had given the best counsel; not only 
 to Athens, but to all Greece. He built this temple near his 
 own house, in the quarter of Melita, where now’ the execution 
 ers cast out the bodies of those that have suffered death, and 
 where they throw the halters and clothes of such as have been 
 strangled or otherwise put to death. There w T as, even in our 
 t ime, a statue of Themistocles in this temple of Diana Jiristobule, 
 Horn which it appeared that his aspect w~as as heroic as his soul. 
 
 At last, the Athenians, unable any longer to bear that high 
 distinction in which he stood, banished him by the ostracism; 
 and this was nothing more than they had done to others whose 
 power w'as become a burden to them, and who had risen above 
 the equality which a commonwealth requires; for the ostracism, 
 or ten years banishment , was not so much intended to punish 
 this or that great man, as to pacify and mitigate the fury of 
 envy, who delights in the disgrace of superior characters, and 
 loses a part of her rancour by their fall. 
 
 In the time of his exile, while he took up his abode at At 
 
248 
 
 THEMISTOCl ES. 
 
 gos,* the affair of Pa.isanias gave great advantage to the ene¬ 
 mies of Themistocles. The person that accused him of trea¬ 
 son was Leobotes, the son of Alcmseon of Agraule, and the 
 Spartans joined in the impeachment. Pausanias at first con¬ 
 cealed his plot from Themistocles, though he was his friend; 
 but when he saw him an exile, and full of indignation agains: 
 the Athenians, he ventured to communicate his designs to him, 
 showing him the king of Persia’s letters, and exciting him to 
 vengeance against the Greeks, as an unjust and ungrateful 
 people. Themistccles rejected the solicitations of Pausanias, 
 and refused to have the least share in his designs; but he gave 
 no information of what had passed between them, nor let the 
 secret transpire; whether he thought he would desist of him¬ 
 self, or that he would be discovered some other way, as he had 
 embarked in an absurd and extravagant enterprise, without any 
 rational hopes of success. 
 
 However, when Pausanias was put to death there, were 
 found letters and other writings relative to the business, which 
 caused no small suspicion against Themistocles. The Lacede¬ 
 monians raised a clamour against him; and those of his fellow- 
 citizens that envied him, insisted on the charge. He could 
 not defend himself in person, but he answered by letter the 
 principal parts of the accusation. For, to obviate the calum¬ 
 nies of his enemies, he observed to the Athenians,—“ That 
 he who was born to command, and incapable of servitude, 
 could never sell himself, and Greece along with him, to ene¬ 
 mies and barbarians.” The people, however, listened to his 
 accusers, and then sent them with orders to bring him to an¬ 
 swer the charge before the states of Greece. Of this he had 
 timely notice, and passed over to the isle of Corcyra, the inha¬ 
 bitants of which had great obligations to him; for a difference 
 between them and the people of Corinth had been referred to 
 his arbitration, and he had decided it by awarding the Corin- 
 thianst to pay down twenty talents, and the isle of Leucas to 
 
 4 The great Pausanias, who had beaten the Persians in the battle of Pla- 
 taea, and who on many occasions had behaved with great generosity as well 
 as moderation, at last degenerated, and fell into a scandalous treaty with 
 the Persians, in hopes, through their interest, to make himself sovereign of 
 Greece. As soon as he had conceived these strange notions, he fell into the 
 manners of the Persians, affected all their luxury, and derided the plain cus¬ 
 toms of his country, of which he had formerly been so fond. The Ephort 
 waited some time for clear proof of his treacherous designs, and when they 
 had obtained it, determined to imprison him. But he fled into the temple 
 of Minerva Chalcioicos, and they besieged him there. They walled up all 
 the gates, and his own mother laid the first stone. When they had almost 
 starved him to death, they laid hands on him, and by the time they had got 
 Aim out of the temple, he expired. 
 
 f The scholiast upon Thucydides tells us, Themistocles served the peo- 
 
THEM1ST0CLES. 
 
 249 
 
 bo in common between the two parties, as a coiony l'rom both. 
 From thence he fled to Epirus; and finding himself still pur¬ 
 sued by the Athenians and Lacedaemonians, he tried a very 
 hazardous and uncertain resource, in imploring the protection 
 of Admetus, king of the Molossians. Admetus had made a 
 request to the Athenians, which being rejected with scorn by 
 Themistocles, in the time of his prosperity and influence in 
 the state, the king entertained a deep resentment against him, 
 and made no secret of his intention to revenge himself, if ever 
 the Athenians should fall into his power. However, while he 
 was thus flying from place to place, he was more afraid of the 
 recent envy of his countrymen, than of the consequences of 
 an old quarrel with the king; and, therefore, he went and put 
 himself in his hands, appearing before him as a suppliant, in 
 a particular and extraordinary manner.* He took the king's 
 son, who was yet a child, in his arms, and kneeled down be¬ 
 fore the household gods. This manner of offering a petition, 
 the Molossians look upon as the most effectual, and only 
 one that can hardly be rejected. Some say the queen, whose 
 name was Phthia, suggested this method of supplication to 
 Themistocles. Others, that Admetus himself taught him to 
 act the part, that he might have a sacred obligation to allege 
 against giving him up to those that might come to demand him. 
 
 At that time Epicrates the Acarnanian found means to con¬ 
 vey the wife and children of Themistocles out of Athens, and 
 sent them to him; for which Cimon afterwards condemned 
 him, and put him to death. This account is given by Stesim- 
 brotus; yet, I know not how, forgetting what he had asserted, 
 or making Themistocles forget it, he tells us he sailed from 
 thence to Sicily, and demanded king Hiero’s daughter in mar¬ 
 riage, promising to bring the Greeks under his subjection; 
 and that, upon Hiero’s refusal, he passed over into Asia. But 
 this is not probable: for Theophrastus, in his treatise on mo¬ 
 narchy, relates, that when Hiero sent his race-horses to the 
 Olympic games, and set up a superb pavilion there, Themis¬ 
 tocles harangued the Greeks, to persuade them to pull it down, 
 and not to suffer the tyrant’s horses to run. Thucydides 
 writes, that he went by land to the iEgean sea, and embarked 
 
 pie of Corcyra in an affair of great importance. The states of Greece were 
 inclined to make war upon that island, for not joining in the league against 
 Xerxes: but Themistocles represented, that if they were in that manner to 
 punish all the cities that had not acceded to the league, their proceedings 
 would bring greater calamities upon Greece than it had suffered from the 
 barbarians. 
 
 * It was nothing particular for a suppliant to do homage to the household 
 gods of the person to whom he had a request; but to do it with the king'* 
 son in his arms, was an extraordinary circumstance. 
 
 V'oj.. t. —* 2 L 23 
 
250 
 
 THEM1STOCLES. 
 
 at Pydna; that none in the ship knew him, till he was drive n 
 by a storm to Naxos, which was at that time besieged by the. 
 Athenians; that through fear of being taken, he then informed 
 the master of the ship and the pilot who he was; and that part 
 ly by entreaties, partly by threatening, he would declare to 
 the Athenians, however falsely, that they knew him from the 
 first, and were bribed to take him into their vessel, he obliged 
 them to weigh anchor, and sail for Asia. 
 
 The greatest part of his treasures was privately sent after 
 him to Asia by his friends. What was discovered and seized 
 for the public use, Theopompus says, amounted to a hundred 
 talents, Theophrastus fourscore; though he was not worth 
 three talents before his employment in the government.* 
 
 When he was landed at Cuma, he understood that a num¬ 
 ber of people, particularly Ergoteles and Pythadorus, were 
 watching to take him. He was, indeed, a rich booty to those 
 that were determined to get money by any means whatever; 
 for the king of Persia had offered, by proclamation, two hun¬ 
 dred talents for apprehending him.T He, therefore, retired 
 to iEgae, a little town of the iEolians, where he was known 
 to nobody but Nicogenes, his host, who was a man of great 
 wealth, and had some interest at the Persian court. In his 
 house he was concealed a few days; and, one evening after 
 supper, when the sacrifice was offered, Olbius, tutor to Nico 
 genes’s children cried out, as in a rapture of inspiration,— 
 
 Counsel, O Night, and victory are thine. 
 
 After this, Themistocies went to bed, and dreamed he saw 
 a dragon coiled round his body, and creeping up to his neck; 
 which, as soon as it touched his face, was turned into an eagle, 
 and, covering him with its wings, took him up, and carried 
 him to a distant place, where a golden sceptre appeared to 
 him, upon which he rested securely, and was delivered from 
 all his fear and trouble. 
 
 In consequence of this warning, he was sent away by Nico 
 genes, who contrived this method for it. The barbarians in 
 general, especially the Persians, are jealous of the women eve n 
 to madness; not only of their wives, but their slaves and con- 
 cubines; for, beside the care they take that they shall be seer. 
 
 * This is totally inconsistent with that splendour in which, according to 
 Plutarch’s own account, he lived, before he had any public appointments. 
 
 f The resentment of Xerxes is not at all to be wondered at, since The¬ 
 mistocies had not only beaten him in the battle of Salamis, but what was 
 more disgraceful still, had made him a dupe to his designing persuasions 
 and representations. In the loss of victory, he had some consolation, as he 
 was not himself the immediate cause of it^ but for his ridiculous return to 
 his angre’’ could only fall upon himself and Themistocies. 
 
THEMISTOCLES. 
 
 251 
 
 by none but their own family, they keep them like prisoners 
 in their houses; and when they take a journey, they are put 
 in a carriage, close covered on all sides. In such a carriage 
 as this, Themistocles was conveyed, the attendants being in¬ 
 structed to tell those they met, if they happened to be ques¬ 
 tioned, that they were carrying a Grecian lady from Ionia to 
 a nobleman at court. 
 
 Thucydides, and Charon of Lampsachus, relate, that Xerxes 
 was then dead, and that it was to his son* Artaxerxes that 
 Themistocles addressed himself. But Ephorus, Dinon, Cli- 
 tarchus, Heraclides, and several others, write, that Xerxes 
 himself was then upon the throne. The opinion of Thucy¬ 
 dides seems most agreeable to chronology, though it is not 
 perfectly well settled. Themistocles, now ready for the dan¬ 
 gerous experiment, applied first to Artabanus,t a military offi¬ 
 cer, and told him,—“ He was a Greek, who desired to have 
 audience of the king about matters of great importance, which 
 the king himself had much at heart. ” Artabanus answered,— 
 “The laws of men are different; some esteem one thing ho¬ 
 nourable, and some another; but it becomes all men to honour 
 and observe the customs of their own country. With you the 
 thing most admired, is said to be liberty and equality. We 
 have many excellent laws; and we regard it as one of the most 
 indispensable, to honour the king, and to adore him as the 
 image of that deity who preserves and supports the universe 
 If, therefore, you are willing to conform to our customs, ana 
 to prostrate yourself before the king, you may be permitted 
 to see him and speak to him. But if you can not bring your¬ 
 self to this, you must acquaint him with your business by a 
 third person. It would be an infringement of the custom of 
 his country, for the king to admit any one to audience that 
 does not worship him.” To this Themistocles replied,— 
 “ My business, Artabanus, is to add to the king’s honour and 
 power; therefore, I will comply with your customs, since the 
 god that has exalted the Persians will have it so, and by my 
 means the number of the king’s worshippers shall be increas¬ 
 ed. So let this be no hindrance to my communicating to the 
 king what I have to say.”—“But who,” said Artabanus, 
 “shall we say you are? for by your discourse you appear 1o 
 be no ordinary person.” Themistocles answered,—“No¬ 
 body must know that before the king himself.” So Phanks 
 
 * Themistocles, therefore, arrived at the Persian court in the finit year of 
 the seventy-ninth Olympiad, 462 years before the birth of Christ; for that 
 was the first year of Artaxerxes’s reign. 
 
 -j- Son of that Artabanus, captain of the guards, who slew Xerxce, and 
 persuaded Artaxerxes to cut off his elder brother Darius. 
 
252 
 
 THEMISTOCLES. 
 
 writes; and Eratosthenes, in his treatise on riches, adds, tha* 
 Themistocles was brought acquainted with Artabanus, and re¬ 
 commended to him by an Eretrian woman, who belonged to 
 that officer. 
 
 When he was introduced to the king, and, after his prostra¬ 
 tion, stood silent, the king commanded the interpreter to ask 
 him who he was. The interpreter accordingly put the ques¬ 
 tion, and he answered,—“The man that is now come to ad¬ 
 dress himself to you, 0 king, is Themistocles the Athenian; an 
 exile, persecuted by the Greeks. The Persians have suffered 
 much by me, but it has been more than compensated by my 
 preventing your being pursued: when, after I had delivered 
 Greece, and saved my own country, I had it in my power to 
 do you also a service. My sentiments are suitable to my pre¬ 
 sent misfortunes, and I come prepared either to receive your 
 favour, if you are reconciled to me, or, if you retain any re¬ 
 sentment, to disarm it by my submission. Reject not the tes¬ 
 timony my enemies have given to the services I have done the 
 Persians, and make use of the opportunity my misfortunes af¬ 
 ford you, rather to show your generosity, than to satisfy your 
 revenge. If you save me, you save your suppliant; if you 
 destroy me, you destroy the enemy of Greece. * In hopes of 
 influencing the king by an argument drawn from religion, 
 Themistocles added to this speech an account of the vision he 
 had in Nicogenes’ house, and an oracle of Jupiter of Dodona, 
 which ordered him—“ to go to one who bore the same name 
 with the god;” from which he concluded he was sent to him, 
 since both were called, and really were great kings. 
 
 The king gave him no answer, though he admired his cou¬ 
 rage and magnanimity; but, with his friends, he felicitated 
 himself upon this, as the most fortunate event imaginable. We 
 are told also, that he prayed to Arimanius ,t that his enemies 
 might ever be so infatuated, as to drive from amongst them 
 their ablest men; that he offered sacrifice to the gods, and im¬ 
 mediately after made a great entertainment; nay that he was 
 so affected with joy, that when he retired to rest, in the midst 
 of his sleep, he called out three times,—“I have Themisto-. 
 cles the Athenian.” 
 
 As soon as it was day, he called together his friends, and 
 ordered Themistocles to be brought before him. The exile 
 expected no favour, when he found that the guards, at the first 
 hearing of his name, treated him with rancour, and loaded 
 him with reproaches. Nay, when the king had taken his seat, 
 
 * How extremely abject and contemptible is this petition, wherein the 
 suppliant founds every argument in his favour upon his vices! 
 
 f The g*od of < lateness, the supposed author of plag-ues and calamities, was 
 called Ahriman or \rimanius. 
 
THEMISTOCLES. 
 
 253 
 
 and a respectful silence ensued, Roxanes, one of his officers, 
 as Themistocles passed him, whispered h im, with a sigh,— 
 i6 Ah! thou subtle serpent of Greece, the king’s good genius 
 has brought thee hither.” However, when he had prostrated 
 himself twice in the presence, the king saluted him, and spoke 
 to him graciously, telling him,—“ He owed him two hundred 
 talents, for as he had delivered himself up, it was but just that 
 he should receive the reward offered to any one that should 
 bring him.” He promised him much more, assured him of 
 his protection, and ordered him to declare freely whatever he 
 had to propose concerning Greece. Themistocles replied,— 
 “ That a man’s discourse was like a piece of tapestry,'* which, 
 when spread open displays its figures; but when it is folded 
 up, they are hidden and lost; therefore he begged time.” The 
 king, delighted with the comparison, bade him take what time 
 he pleased; and he desired a year; in which space he learned 
 the Persian language, so as to be able to converse with the 
 king without an interpreter. 
 
 Such as did not belong to the court, believed that he enter 
 tained their prince on the subject of the Grecian affairs: but 
 as there were then many changes in the ministry, he incurred 
 the envy of the nobility, who suspected that he had presumed 
 to speak too freely of them to the king. The honours that 
 were paid him were far superior to those that other strangers 
 had experienced; the king took him with him a hunting, con¬ 
 versed familiarly with him in his palace, and introduced him 
 to the queen-mother, who honoured him with her confidence. 
 He likewise gave orders for his being instructed in the learn¬ 
 ing of the Magi. 
 
 Demaratus the Lacedaemonian, who was then at court, being 
 ordered to ask a favour, desired that he might be carried 
 through Sardis in royal state,! with a diadem upon his head. 
 But Mithropaustes, the king’s cousin-german, took him by the 
 hand, and said,—“Demaratus, this diadem does not carry 
 brains along with it to cover; nor would you be Jupiter, though 
 you should take hold of his thunder.” The king was highly 
 displeased at Demaratus for making this request, and seemed 
 determined never to forgive him; yet, at the desire of Themis¬ 
 tocles, he was persuaded to be reconciled to him. And in the 
 following reigns, when the affairs of Persia and Greece were 
 more closely connected, as oft as the kings requested a favour 
 of any Grecian captain, they are said to have promised him, in 
 
 * In this he artfully conformed to the figurative manner of speaking* in 
 use among the eastern nations. 
 
 t This was the highest mark of honour which the Persian kings could 
 giv e. Ahasuerus, the same with Xerxes, the father of this Artaxerxes, had 
 not long before ordained that Mordecai should be honoured in that manner 
 
 23 * 
 

 tiiemistocl.es 
 
 express firms ,— 44 That he should be a greater man at the r* 
 court than Themistocles had been.” Nay we are told tha 
 Themistocles himself, in the midst of his greatness, and the 
 extraordinary respect that was paid him, seeing his table most 
 elegantly spread, turned to his children, and said ,— 44 Children 
 we should have been undone, had it not been for our undoing.” 
 Mist authors agree, that he had three cities given him, for 
 bread, wine, and meat, Magnesia, Lampsacus, and My us.* 
 Neanthes of Cyzicus, and Phanias, add two more, Percoteand 
 Palsecepsis, for his chamber and his wardrobe. 
 
 Some business relative to Greece having brought him to the. 
 sea-coast, a Persian, named Epixyes, governor of Uppei 
 Phrygia, who had a design upon his life, and had long pre 
 pared certain Pisidians to kill him, when he should lodge in a 
 city called Leontocephalus, or Lion's Head , now determined 
 to put it in execution. But, as he lay sleeping one day at noon, 
 the mother of the gods is said to have appeared to him in a 
 dream, and thus to have addressed him: 44 Beware, Themisto¬ 
 cles, of the Lion’s Head, lest the lion crush you. For this 
 warning I require of you Mnesiptolema for my servant.” 
 Themistocles awoke in great disorder: and when he had de¬ 
 voutly returned thanks to the goddess, left the high-road, and 
 took another wav? to avoid the place of danger. At night he 
 took up his lodging beyond it; but as one of the horses that had 
 carried his tent had fallen into a river, and his servants w r ere 
 busied in spreading the wet hangings to dry, the Pisidians, 
 who were advancing with their swords drawn, saw these hang¬ 
 ings indistinctly by moon-light, and taking them for the tent 
 of Themistocles, expected to find him reposing himself within. 
 They approached therefore, and lifted up the hangings; but 
 the servants that had the care of them, fell upon them and 
 took them. The danger thus avoided, Themistocles, admir¬ 
 ing the goodness of the goddess that appeared to him, built a 
 temple in Magnesia, wdiichhe dedicated to Cybele Dindymene , 
 and appointed his daughter Mnesiptolema priestess of it. 
 
 When he was come to Sardis, he diverted himself with look- 
 
 * The country about Magnesia was so fertile, that it brought Themistocles 
 a revenue of fifty talents; Lampsacus had in its neighbourhood the noblest 
 vineyards of the east; and Myus, or Myon, abounded in provisions, particu¬ 
 larly in fish. It was usual with the eastern monarchs, instead of pensions to 
 their favourites, to assign them cities and provinces. Even such provinces 
 as the kings retained the revenue of, were under particular assignments; one 
 piovince furnishing so much for wine, another for victuals, a third for the 
 privy purse, and a fourth for the wardrobe. One of the queens had all Egypl 
 for her clothing; 5..id Plato tells (1 Alcibiad.) that many of the provinces 
 were appropriated for the queen’s wardrobe: one for her girdle, another for 
 her head-dress, and so of the rest; and each province bore the name of that 
 part of t he dress it was to furnish. 
 
THEMISTOCLES. 
 
 255 
 
 ing upon the ornaments of the temples; and among the great 
 number of offerings, he found in the temple of Cvbele a female 
 figure of brass, two cubits high, called Hydrophorus , or the 
 water-bearer: which he himself, when surveyor of the aque¬ 
 ducts at Athens, had caused to be made and dedicated out of 
 the fines of such as had stolen the water, or diverted the stream. 
 Whether it was that ho was moved at seeing this statue in a 
 strange country, or that he was desirous to show the Atheni¬ 
 ans how much he was honoured,* and what power he had all 
 over the king’s dominions, he addressed himself to the go¬ 
 vernor of Lydia, and begged leave to send back the statue to 
 Athens. The barbarian immediately took fire, and said, he 
 would certainly acquaint the king what sort of a request he 
 had made him. Themistocles, alarmed at this menace, appli¬ 
 ed to the governor’s women, and, by money, prevailed upon 
 them to pacify him. After this he behaved with more pru¬ 
 dence, sensible how much he had to fear from the envy of the 
 Persians. Hence, lie did not travel about Asia, as Theopom- 
 pus says, but took up his abode at Magnesia, where, loaded 
 with valuable presents, and equally honoured with the Persian 
 nobles, he long lived in great security; for the king, who was 
 engaged in the affairs of the upper provinces, gave but little 
 attention to the concerns of Greece. 
 
 Put when Egypt revolted, and was supported in that revolt 
 by the Athenians, when the Grecian fleet sailed as far as Cy¬ 
 prus and Cilicia, and Cimon rode triumphant master of the 
 seas, then the king of Persia applied himself to oppose the 
 Greeks, and to prevent the growth of their power. He put 
 his force in motion, sent out his generals, and despatched mes 
 sengers to Themistocles at Magnesia, to command him to per¬ 
 form his promises, and exert himself against Greece. Did he 
 not obey the summons then? No; neither resentment against 
 the Athenians, nor the honours and authority in which he now 
 nourished, could prevail upon him to take the direction of the 
 expedition. Possibly he might doubt the event of the war, as 
 Greece had then several great generals; and Cimon in particu¬ 
 lar was distinguished with extraordinary success. Above all, 
 regard for his own achievements, and the trophies he hid 
 
 * It is not improbable that this proceeded from a principle of vanity. 1 lie 
 love of admiration was the ruling 1 passion of Themistocles, and discovers it¬ 
 self uniformly through his whole conduct. There might, however, be ano¬ 
 ther reason, which Plutarch has not mentioned. Themistocles was an ex¬ 
 cellent manager in political religion. lie had lately been eminently distin¬ 
 guished by the favour of Cybele; he finds an Athenian statue in her temple. 
 The goddess consents that he should send it to Athens; and the Athenians, 
 out of respect to the goddess, must of col irse cease to persecute her favour* 
 ite Themistocles. 
 
256 
 
 THEMISTOCLES. 
 
 gained, whose glory he was unwilling to tarnish, determined 
 him (as the best method he could take) to put such an end to 
 his life as became his dignity.* Having, therefore, sacrificed 
 to the gods, assembled his friends, and taken his last leave, he 
 drank duII’s blood,t as is generally reported; or, as some re¬ 
 late it, he took a quick poison, and ended his days in Magne 
 sia, having lived sixty-five years, most of which he had spe* t 
 in civil or military employments. When the king was ac¬ 
 quainted with the cause and manner of his death, he admired 
 him more than ever, and continued his favour and oounty to 
 his friends and relations. J 
 
 Themistocles had by Archippe, the daughter of Lysandcr 
 of Alopece, five sons, Neocles, Diodes, Archeptolis, Po- 
 lyeuctes, and Cleophantus. The three last survived him. 
 Plato takes notice of Cleophantus as an excellent horseman, 
 but a man of no merit in other respects. Neocles, his eldest 
 son, died when a child, by the bite of a horse; and Diodes 
 was adopted by his grandfather Lysander. He had several 
 daughters; namely, Mnesiptolema, by a second wife, who was 
 married to Archeptolis, her half brother; Italia, whose hus¬ 
 band was Panthides of Chios; Sibaris, married to Nicomedes 
 the Athenian; and Nichomache, at Magnesia, to Phrasicles, 
 the nephew of Themistocles, who, after her father’s death, 
 took a voyage for that purpose, received her at the hands of 
 her brothers, and brought up her sister Asia, the youngest of 
 Hie children. 
 
 The Magnesians erected a very handsome monument to him 
 which still remains in the market-place. No credit is to be giv¬ 
 en to Andocides, who writesto his friends, that the Athenians 
 stole his ashes out of the tomb, and scattered them in the air; 
 for it is an artifice of his to exasperate the nobility against the 
 people. Phylarchus too, more like a writer of tragedy than 
 an historian, availing himself of what may be called a piece of 
 machinery, introduces Neocles and Demopolis, as the sons of 
 Themistocles, to make his story more interesting and pathetic. 
 But a very moderate degree of sagacity may discover it to be 
 a fiction. Yet Diodorus the geographer writes, in his treatise 
 
 * Thucydides, who was contemporary with Themistocles, only says,—“ he 
 died of a distemper; but some report that he poisoned himself, seeing* it im¬ 
 possible to accomplish what he had promised the king*.”— Thucydid. de Bell. 
 Belopon. hi. 
 
 ■j* Whilst they were sacrificing* the bull, he caused the blood to be receiv¬ 
 ed in a cup, and drank it whilst it was warm, which (according* to Pliny) is 
 mortal, because it coag-ulates or thickens in an instant. 
 
 t There is, in our opinion, more true heroism in the death of Themisto¬ 
 cles than in the death of Cato. It is something* enthusiastically great, when 
 a. man determines not to survive his liberty; but it is something* still greater, 
 when he refuses to survive his honour. 
 
TIIEMISTOCLES. 
 
 257 
 
 of sepulchres,but rather by conjecture than certain knowledge, 
 that, near the harbour of Piraeus, from the promontory of Alci- 
 mus,* the land makes an elbow, and when you have doubled 
 itinw T ards, by the still water, there is a vast foundation, upon 
 which stands the tomb of Themistocles,t in the form of an al¬ 
 tar. With him Plato, the comic writer, is supposed to agree 
 in the following lines:— 
 
 Oft as the merchant speeds the passing* sail. 
 
 Thy tomb, Themistocles, he stops to hail; 
 
 When hostile ships in martial combat meet. 
 
 Thy shade attending, hovers o’er the fleet. 
 
 Various honours and privileges were granted by the Mag 
 nesians to the descendants of Themistocles, which continued 
 down to our times; for they were enjoyed by one of his name, 
 an Athenian, with whom I had a particular acquaintance and 
 friendship in the house of Ammonius the philosopher. 
 
 * Meursius rightly corrects it Alimus. We find no place in Attica called 
 Alcimus , but a borough named Alimus there was, on the east of the Piraeus. 
 
 -j- Thucydides says that the bones of Themistocles, by his own command, 
 were privately carried back into Attica, and buried there. But Pausanias 
 agrees with Theodorus, that the Athenians, repenting of their ill usage of this 
 great man, honoured him with a tomb in the Piraeus. 
 
 It does not appear, indeed, that Themistocles, when banished, had any 
 design either to revenge himself on Athens, or to take refuge in the court 
 of the king of Persia. The Greeks themselves forced him upon this, or ra¬ 
 ther the Lacedaemonians; for, as by their intrigues his countrymen were in¬ 
 duced to banish him; so, by their importumties after he was banished, 1*2 
 was not suffered to enjoy any refuge in quiet*. 
 
 Vol i-2 M 
 
THE 
 
 LIFE OF CAMILLUS. 
 
 Among the many remarkable things related of Furius Ca- 
 millus, the most extraordinary seems to be this, that thougn 
 lie was often in the highest commands, and performed the 
 greatest actions; though he was five times chosen dictator; 
 though he triumphed four times, and was styled the second 
 founder of Rome; yet he was never once consul. Perhaps 
 we may discover the reason in the state of the commonwealth 
 at that time; the people then at variance with the senate,* re¬ 
 fused to elect consuls, and, instead of them, put the govern¬ 
 ment in the hands of military tribunes. Though these acted, 
 indeed, with consular power and authority, yet their adminis¬ 
 tration was less grievous to the people, because they were 
 more in number. To have the direction of affairs entrusted 
 to six persons instead of two, was some ease and satisfaction 
 to a people that could not bear to be dictated to by the nobili¬ 
 ty. Camillus, then distinguished by his achievements, and 
 at the height of glory, did not choose to be consul against the 
 inclinations of the people, though the comitia , or assemblies in 
 which they might have elected consuls, were several times 
 held in that period. In all his other commissions, which w r ere 
 many and various, he so conducted himself, that if he was en¬ 
 trusted with the sole powder, he shared it with others, and if 
 he had a colleague, the glory was his own. The authority 
 seemed to be shared by reason of his great modesty in com¬ 
 mand, which gave no occasion to envy; and the glory was se¬ 
 cured to him by his genius and capacity, in which he was uni¬ 
 versally allowed to have no equal. 
 
 The family of the Furiit was not very illustrious before his 
 
 * The old quarrel about the distribution of lands v vs revived, the peo¬ 
 ple insisting' that every citizen should have an equal share. The senate 
 met frequently to disconcert the proposal; and at last Appius Claudius mov- 
 et\ that some of the colleg'e of the tribunes of the people should be gained, 
 as the only remedy ag-ainst the tyranny of that body; which was accord¬ 
 ingly put in execution. The commons, tfjus disappointed, chose military 
 tribunes instead of consuls, andsome times had them all plebeians.— Liv. 1. 
 iv. c. 48. 
 
 f Furius was the family name. Camillus (as has been already observed) 
 
CAMILLUS. 
 
 259 
 
 time, he was the first that raised it to distinction, when he 
 served under Posthumius Tibertius, in the great battle with 
 the Equi and Volsci.* In that action, spurring his horse be¬ 
 fore the ranks, he received a wound in the thigh, when, in¬ 
 stead of retiring, he plucked the javelin out of the wound, en 
 gaged with the bravest of the enemy, and put them to flight 
 For this, among other honours, he was appointed censor, an 
 office, at that time, of great dignity, t There is upon record 
 a very laudable act of his, that took place during his office. 
 As the wars had made many widows, he obliged such of the 
 men as lived single, partly by persuasion, and partly by threat¬ 
 ening them with fines, to marry those widows. Another act 
 of his, which, indeed, was absolutely necessary, was, the caus¬ 
 ing orphans, who before were exempt from taxes, to contri¬ 
 bute to the supplies; for these were very large, by reason of the 
 continual wars. What was then most urgent was the siege of 
 Veii, whose inhabitants some call Venetani. This city was the 
 barrier of Tuscany, and in the quantity of her arms, and num¬ 
 ber of her military, not inferior to Rome. Proud of her 
 wealth, her elegance, and luxury, she had maintained with the 
 Romans many long and gallant disputes for glory and for 
 power. But humbled by many signal defeats, the Yeientes 
 had then bid adieu to that ambition; they satisfied themselves 
 with building strong and high wall's, and filling the city with 
 provisions, arms, and all kinds of warlike stores; and so they 
 waited for the enemy without fear. The siege was long, but 
 no less laborious and troublesome to the besiegers than to them . 
 For the Romans had long been accustomed to summer cam¬ 
 paigns only, and to winter at home; and then for the first time 
 their officers ordered them to construct forts, to raise strong 
 
 was an appellation of children of qu*;iiy, who ministered in the temple of 
 some god. Oar Camillus was the first who retained it as a surname. 
 
 * This was in the year of Rome 324, when Camillus might be about four¬ 
 teen or fifteen years of age (for in the year of Rome 389, he was near four¬ 
 score), though the Roman youth did not use to bear arms sooner than se¬ 
 venteen. And though Plutarch says, that his gallant behaviour, at that 
 time, procured him the censorship, yet that was an office which the Romans 
 never conferred upon a young person; and, in fact, Camillus was not censor 
 till the year of Rome 353. 
 
 | The authority of the censors, in the time of the republic, was very ex¬ 
 tensive. They had power to expel senators the house, to degrade the 
 knights, and to disable the commons from giving their votes in the assem¬ 
 blies of the people. But the emperors took the office upon themselves; 
 and as many of them abused it, it lost its honour, and sometimes the very 
 title was laid aside. As to what Plutarch says, that Camillus, when censor, 
 obliged many of the bachelors to marry the widows of those who had fallen 
 in the wars; that was in pursuance of one of the powers of his office. 
 Calibcs esse prohibento. 
 
CAMILLAS. 
 
 2bO 
 
 works about their camp, and to pass the winter as well as Sl m 
 mer in the enemy’s country. 
 
 The seventh year of the war was now almost past, when the 
 generals began to be blamed; and as it was thought they 
 showed not sufficient vigour in the siege,* they were super¬ 
 seded, and others put in their room; among whom was Camil- 
 lus, then appointed tribune the second time.t He was not, 
 however, at present concerned in the siege, for it fell to his 
 lot to head the expedition against the Falisei and Capenates, 
 who, while the Romans were otherwise employed, commit¬ 
 ted great depredations in their country, and harassed them dur¬ 
 ing the whole Tuscan war. But Camillas falling upon them, 
 killed great numbers, and shut up the rest within their walls. 
 
 During the heat of the war, a phenomenon appeared in the 
 Alban lake, which might be reckoned amongst the strangest 
 prodigies; and as no common or natural cause could be assign¬ 
 ed for it, it occasioned great consternation. The summer was 
 now declining, and the season by no means rainy, nor re¬ 
 markable for south winds. Of the many springs, brooks, and 
 lakes which Italy abounds with, some were dried up, and 
 others bpt feebly resisted the drought; the rivers, always low T 
 in the summer, then ran with a very slender stream. But the 
 Alban lake, which has its source within itself, and discharges 
 no part of its water, being quite surrounded with mountains, 
 without any cause, unless it was a supernatural one, began to 
 rise and swell in a most remarkable manner, increasing till it 
 reached the sides, and at last the very tops of the hills; all 
 which happened without any agitation of its waters. For a 
 while it was the wonder of the shepherds and herdsmen; but 
 when the earth, which, like a mole, kept it from overflowing 
 the country below, was broken down with the quantity and 
 weight of water, then descending like a torrent through the 
 ploughed fields and other cultivated grounds to the sea, it not 
 only astonished the Romans, but was thought by all Italy to 
 portend some extraordinary event. It was the great subject 
 of conversation in the camp before Veii, so that it came at last 
 to be known to the besieged. 
 
 * Of the six military tribunes of that year, only two, L Virginius and Ma 
 nius Sergius carried on the siege of Veii. Sergius commanded the attack, 
 and Virginius covered the siege. While the army was thus divided, the 
 Falisei and Capenates fell upon Sergius, and, at the same time, the besieged 
 sallying out, attacked him on the other side. The Romans under his com- 
 mand, thinking they had all the forces of Hetruria to deal with, began to 
 lose courage, and retire. Virginius could have saved his colleague’s troops, 
 but as Sergius was too proud to send to him for succour, he resolved not tc 
 give him any. The enemy, therefore, made a dreadful slaughter of the Ro. 
 mans in their lines.— Liv. lib. v. c. 8. 
 
 f The year of Rome 357. 
 
CAMILLAS. 
 
 261 
 
 As in the course of long sieges there is usually some con¬ 
 versation with the enemy, it happened that a Roman soldier 
 formed an acquaintance with one of the townsmen, a man 
 versed in ancient traditions, and supposed to be more than or¬ 
 dinarily skilled in divination. The Roman, perceiving that 
 he expressed great satisfaction at the story of the lake, and 
 thereupon laughed at the siege, told him,—“ This was not 
 the only wonder the times had produced, but other prodigies 
 still stranger than this had happened to the Romans; which he 
 should be glad to communicate to him, if by that means he 
 could provide for his own safety in the midst of the public 
 ruin.” The man readily hearkening to the proposal, came out 
 to him, expecting to hear some secret, and the Roman con¬ 
 tinued the discourse, drawing him forward by degrees, till 
 they were at some distance from the gates. Then he snatched 
 him up in his arms, and by his superior strength held him, 
 till, with the assistance of several soldiers from the camp, he 
 was secured and carried before the generals. The man, re¬ 
 duced to this necessity, and knowing that destiny can not be 
 avoided, declared the secret oracles concerning his own coun¬ 
 try,—“ That the city could never be taken till the waters of 
 the Alban lake, which had now forsook their bed, and found 
 new passages, were turned back, and so diverted as to prevent 
 their mixing with the sea.”’* 
 
 The senate, informed of this prediction, and deliberating 
 about it, were of opinion it would be best to send to Delphi 
 to consult the oracle. They chose for this purpose three per¬ 
 sons of honour and distinction, Licinius Cossus, Valerius Po- 
 titus and Fabius Ambustus; who, having had a prosperous 
 voyage, and consulted Apollo, returned with this among other 
 answers,—“ That they had neglected some ceremonies in the 
 Latin leasts.”! As to the water of the Alban lake, they were 
 ordered, if possible, to shut it up in its ancient bed; or if that 
 could not be effected, to dig canals and trenches for it, till it 
 lost itself on the land. Agreeably to this direction, the priests 
 were employed in offering sacrifices, and the people in labour 
 to turn the course of the water, J 
 
 In the tenth year of the siege, the senate removed the other 
 magistrates, and appointed Camillus dictator, whomade choice 
 of Cornelius Scipio for his general of horse. In the first place, 
 
 * 1 he prophecy, according* to Livy, (1. v. c. 15.) was this, Veii shill never 
 he iliken, till all the water is run out of the lake of Alba. 
 
 y These feasts were instituted by Tarquin the Proud. The Romans pre¬ 
 sided in them: but all the people of Latium were to attend them, and to par 
 take of a bull then sacrificed to Jupiter Latialis. 
 
 t This wonderful work subsists to this day, and the waters of the lake A 1 
 bano run through it 
 
 24 
 
262 
 
 CAM1LLUS. 
 
 he made vows lo the gods, if they favoured him with putting 
 a glorious period to the war, to celebrate the great Circensiari 
 games to their honour,* * * § and to consecrate the temple ot the 
 goddess, whom the Romans call the mother matuta. By her 
 secret rites we may suppose this last to be the goddess Leuco- 
 thea; for they take a female slave into the inner part of the 
 temple,t where they beat her, and then drive her out; they 
 carry their brother’s children in their arms instead of their 
 own;J and they represent in the ceremonies of the sacrifice 
 all that happened to the nurses of Bacchus, and what Ino suf¬ 
 fered for having saved the son of Juno’s rival. 
 
 After these vows, Camillus penetrated into the country of 
 the Falisci, and in a great battle overthrew them and their 
 auxiliaries the Capenates. Then he turned to the siege of 
 Veii; and perceiving it would be both difficult and dangerous 
 to endeavour to take it by assault, he ordered mines to be dug, 
 the soil about the city being easy to work, and admitting of 
 depth enough for the works to be carried on unseen by the 
 enemy. As this succeeded to his wish, he made an assault 
 without, to call the enemy to the walls; and in the mean time, 
 others of his soldiers made their way through the mines, and 
 secretly penetrated to Juno’s temple in the citadel. This was 
 the most considerable temple in the city; and we are told, that 
 at that instant the Tuscan general happened to be sacrificing, 
 when the soothsayer, upon inspection of the entrails, cried 
 out,—“The gods promise victory to him that shall finish this 
 sacrifice;Ӥ the Romans, who were under ground, hearing 
 what he said, immediately removed the pavement, and came 
 out with loud shouts and clashing their arms, which struck 
 the enemy with such terror, that they fled, and left the en¬ 
 trails, which were carried to Camillus. But perhaps this has 
 more of the air of fable than of history. 
 
 The city thus taken by the Romans sword in hand, while 
 they were busy in plundering it and carrying off its immense 
 riches, Camillus, beholding from the citadel what was done, at 
 first burst into tears; and when those about him began to mag 
 
 * These were a kind of tournament in the great circus. 
 
 f Leucothoe, or Ino, was jealous of one of her female slaves, who was the 
 favourite of her husband Athamas. 
 
 tlno was a very unhappy mother; for she had seen her son Learchus 
 slain by her husband, whereupon she threw herself into the sea with her 
 other son Melicertes. But she was a more fortunate aunt, having* preserved 
 Bacchus, the son of her sister Semele. 
 
 § Words spoken by persons unconcerned in their affairs, and upon a quite 
 different subject, were interpreted by the heathens as good or bad omens, 
 if they happened to be any way applicable to their case. And they took 
 great pains to fulfil the omen, if they thought it fortunate; as well as t» 
 evade it, if it appeared unluckv. 
 
CAMILLUS. 
 
 2b3 
 
 miy his happiness, he lifted up his hands towards heaven, and 
 uttered this prayer:— “ Great Jupiter, and ye gods, that have 
 the inspection of our good and evil actions, ye know that the 
 Romans, not without just cause, but in their own defence, and 
 constrained by necessity, have made war against this city, and 
 their enemies its unjust inhabitants. If we must have some 
 misfortune in lieu of this success, I entreat that it may fall, 
 not upon Rome, or the Roman army, but upon myself; yet 
 lay not, ye gods, a heavy hand upon me!”* Having pro¬ 
 nounced these words, he turned to the right, as the manner 
 of the Romans is after prayer and supplication, but fell in 
 turning. His friends that were by, expressed great uneasi¬ 
 ness at the accident, but he soon recovered himself from the 
 fall, and told them,—“It was only a small inconvenience 
 after great success, agreeable to his prayer. ”t 
 
 After the city was pillaged, he determined, pursuant to his 
 vow, to remove this statue of Juno to Rome. The workmen 
 were assembled for the purpose, and he offered sacrifice to the 
 goddess,—“Beseeching her to accept of their homage, and 
 graciously to take up her abode among the gods of Rome.” 
 To which it is said the statue softly answered,—“'She was 
 willing and ready to do it.” But Livy says, Camillus, in 
 offering up his petition, touched the image of the goddess, and 
 entreated her to go with them, and that some of the standers- 
 by answered,—“ She consented, and would willingly follow 
 them.” Those that support and defend the miracle, have the 
 fortune of Rome on their side, which could never have risen 
 from such small and contemptible beginnings to that height of 
 glory and empire, without the constant assistance of some god, 
 who favoured them with many considerable tokens of his pre¬ 
 sence. Several miracles of a similar nature are also alleged: 
 as, that images have often sweated ; that they have been heard 
 to groan: and that sometimes they have turned from their vo 
 taries, and shut their eyes. Many such accounts we have from 
 our ancients; and not a few persons of our own times have 
 given us wonderful relations, not unworthy of notice. But 
 
 * Livy, who has given us this prayer, has not qualified it with that mod’- 
 fication so unworthy of Camillus, tit tuav'Tov t\ct£t;*ro kcuuh 'rtAtuTHra.i, may it be 
 with as little detriment as possible to myself On the contrary, he says, \ii er' 
 invidiam lenire suo privato incommodo , quam minimo publico populi Romani 
 liceret. Camillus prayed, that if this success must have an equivalent in so:.»t 
 ensuing misfortune , that misfortune might full upon himself and the Roman 
 people escape with as little detriment as possible. This was great and heiw 
 Plutarch, having but an imperfect knowledge of the Roman language, pre 
 bahly mistook the sense. 
 
 f This is a continuation of the former mistake. Livy tells us, it was coi* 
 lectured from the event, tint this fall of Camillus was a presage of his c< n 
 demnation and banishreert. 
 
264 
 
 CAMILLUS. 
 
 to give entire credit to them, or altogether to disbelieve them, 
 is equally dangerous, on account of human weakness. We 
 keep not always within the boumds of reason, nor are masters 
 of our minds; sometimes we fall into vain superstition, and 
 sometimes into an impious neglect of all religion. It is best 
 to be cautious, and to avoid extremes.* 
 
 Whether it was that Camillus was elated with his great ex¬ 
 ploit in taking a city that was the rival of Rome, after it had 
 been besieged ten y^ars, or that he was misled by his flatter¬ 
 ers, he took upon him too much state for a magistrate subject 
 to the laws and usages of his country; for his triumph was 
 conducted with excessive pomp, and he rode through Rome 
 in a chariot drawn by four white horses, which no general 
 ever did before or after him. Indeed, this sort of carriage is 
 esteemed sacred, and is appropriated to the king and father of 
 the gods.t The citizens, therefore, considered this unusual 
 appearance of grandeur as an insult upon them. Besides, they 
 were offended at his opposing the law by which the city was 
 to be divided; for their tribunes had proposed that the senate 
 and people should be divided into two equal parts; one part 
 to remain at Rome, and the other, as the lot happened to fall, 
 to remove to the conquered city; by which means they would 
 not only have more room, but, by being in possession of two 
 considerable cities, be better able to defend their territories 
 and to watch over their prosperity. The people, who were 
 very numerous, and enriched by the late plunder, constantly 
 assembled in the forum , and in a tumultuous manner demanded 
 to have it put to the vote. But the senate and other principal 
 citizens considered this proposal of the tribunes, not so much 
 the dividing as the destroying of Rome,^ and in their uneasi¬ 
 ness applied to Camillus. Camillus was afraid to put it to the 
 trial, and therefore invented demurs and pretences of delay, 
 to prevent the bill’s being offered to the people; by which he 
 incurred their displeasure. 
 
 But the greatest and most manifest cause of their hatred 
 was, his behaviour with respect to the tenths of the spoils; 
 and if the resentment of the people was not in this case alto¬ 
 gether just, yet it had some show of reason. It seems he had 
 made a vow, as he marched to Veii, that, if he took the city, 
 he would consecrate the tenths to Apollo. But when the city 
 
 * The great Mr. Addison seems to have had this passage of Plutarch in 
 his eye, when he delivered his opinion concerning tlr*. doctrine of witches. 
 
 f He likewise coloured his face with vermilion, the colour with which the 
 statues of the gods were commonly painted. 
 
 t They feared, that two such cities, would, by degrees, become two dif 
 ferent states, which, after a destructive war with each other, would a* 
 length fall a prey to their common enemies. 
 
CAM1LLUS. 
 
 265 
 
 was taken, and came to be pillaged, he was either unwilling to 
 interrupt his men, or in the hurry had forgot his vow, and so 
 gave up the whole plunder to them. After he had resigned 
 His dictatorship, he laid the case before the senate; and the 
 soothsayers declared, that the sacrifices announced the anger 
 of the gods, which ought to oe appeased by offerings expressive 
 of their gratitude for the favours they had received. The se¬ 
 nate then made a decree, that the plunder should remain with 
 the soldiers (for they knew not how to manage it otherwise); 
 but that each should produce upon oath, the tenth of the value 
 of what he had got. This w T as a great hardship upon the sol¬ 
 diers; and those poor fellows could not without force be 
 brought to refund so large a portion of the fruit of their la¬ 
 bours, and to make good not only what they had hardly earn¬ 
 ed, but now actually spent. Camillus, distressed with their 
 complaints, for want of a better excuse, made use of a very 
 absurd apology, by acknowledging he had forgotten his vow. 
 This they greatly resented, that having then vowed the tenths 
 of the enemy’s goods, he should now exact the tenths of the 
 citizens’. However, they all produced their proportion; and 
 it was resolved, that a vase of massy gold should be made and 
 sent to Delphi. But as there was a scarcity of gold in the 
 city, while the magistrates were considering how to procure 
 it, the Roman matrons met, and having consulted among them 
 selves, gave up their golden ornaments, which weighed eight 
 talents, as an offering to the god. And the senate, in honour 
 of their piety, decreed that they should have funeral orations 
 as well as the men, which had not been the custom before. * 
 They then sent three of the chief of the nobility ambassadors, 
 in a large ship well manned, and fitted out in a manner be¬ 
 coming so solemn an occasion. 
 
 In this voyage they were equally endangered by a storm 
 and a calm, but escaped beyond all expectation, when on the 
 brink of destruction. For the wind slackening near the Aeo¬ 
 lian islands, the galleys of the Lipareans gave them chase as 
 pirates. Upon their stretching out their hands for mercy, the 
 Lipareans used no violence to their persons, but towed the 
 ship into harbour, and there exposed both them and their 
 goods to sale, having first adjudged them to be lawful prize. 
 With much difficulty, however, they were prevailed upon to 
 release them, out of regard to the merit and authority of Ti- 
 
 * The matrons had the value of the gold paid them; and it was not on 
 this occasion, but afterwards, when they contributed their golden ornaments 
 to make up the sum demanded by the Gauls, that funeral orations were 
 granted them. The privilege they were now favoured with, was leave to 
 ride in chariots at the public games and sacrifices, and in open carriages, of 
 a less honourable sort, on other occasions, in the streets. 
 
 Vol. I -2 N 24* 
 
266 
 
 CAMILLUS. 
 
 mesitheus, the chief magistrate of the place, who, moreover, 
 conveyed them with his own vessels, and assisted in dedicat 
 ing the gift. For this, suitable honours were paid him at 
 Rome. 
 
 And now the tribunes oj the people attempted to bring the law 
 for removing part of the citizens to Veii once more upon the 
 carpet; but the war with the Falisci very seasonably interven¬ 
 ing, put the management of the elections in the hands of the 
 patricians, and they nominated Camillus a military tribune ,* to ■ 
 gether with five others, as affairs then required a general of 
 considerable dignity, reputation, and experience. When the 
 people had confirmed this nomination, Camillus marched his 
 forces into the country of the Falisci, and laid siege to Falerii, 
 a city well fortified and provided in all respects for the war. 
 He was sensible it was like to be no easy affair, nor soon to be 
 despatched, and this was one reason for his engaging in it; for 
 he was desirous to keep the citizens employed abroad, that they 
 might not have leisure to sit down at home, and raise tumults 
 and seditions. This was indeed a remedy which the Romans 
 always had recourse to, like good physicians, to expel danger¬ 
 ous humours from the body politic. 
 
 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 them¬ 
 selves freely, as if they had nothing to fear. At last, having 
 got them all together, he brought them to the Roman advanced 
 guard, and delivered them up to be carried to Camillus. When 
 he came into his presence, he said ,— 66 He was the schoolmas¬ 
 ter of Falerii, but preferring 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 Ca- 
 rnillus, anrl he said to those that were by ,— u War (at best) 
 s a savage thing, and wades through a sea of violence and in- 
 
 * The year of Rome 361. Canullus was then military tribune the third 
 f/me. 
 
CAM1LLUS. 
 
 26? 
 
 justice; yit even war itself has its laws, which men of honour 
 will not depart from; nor do they so pursue victory, as to avail 
 themselves of acts of villany and baseness; for a great general 
 should rely only on his own virtue, and not upon the treach¬ 
 ery of others.” Then he ordered the lictors to tear oil the 
 wretch’s clothes, to tie his hands behind him, and to furnish 
 the boys with rods and scourges, to punish the traitor, and 
 whip him into the city. By this time the Falerians had disco¬ 
 vered the schoolmaster’s treason; the city, as might be expect¬ 
 ed, was full of lamentations for so great a loss, and the princi¬ 
 pal inhabitants, both men and women, crowded about the wall 
 and the gate like persons distracted. In the midst of this dis¬ 
 order 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 tfiose children, but al! 
 the citizens in general, were struck with admiration at the 
 spectacle, and conceived such an affection for the justice of 
 Camillus, that they immediately assembled in council, and 
 sent deputies to surrender to him both themselves and their 
 city. 
 
 Camillus sent them to Rome; and when they were introdu 
 ced to the senate, they said:—“The Romans, in preferring 
 justice to conauest, have taught us to be satisfied with submis¬ 
 sion instead oi liberty. At the same time, we declare we do 
 not think ourselves so much beneath you in strength, as infe¬ 
 rior in virtue.” The senate referred the disquisition and set¬ 
 tling of the articles of peace to Camillus, who contented him¬ 
 self with taking a sum of money of the Falerians; and having 
 entered into alliance with the whole nation of the Falisci, re¬ 
 turned to Rome. 
 
 But the soldiers, who expected to have had the plundering of 
 Falerii, when they came back empty-handed, accused Camillus 
 to their fellow-citizens as an enemy to the commons , and one 
 that maliciously opposed the interests of the poor. And when 
 the tribunes again proposed the law for transplanting part of 
 the citizens to Veii,* and summoned the people to give their 
 votes, Camillus spoke very freely, or rather with much asperi¬ 
 ty against it, appearing remarkably violent in his opposition to 
 the people, who therefore lost their bill, but harboured a strong 
 resentment against Camillus. Even the misfortune he had in 
 his family, of losing one of his sons, did not in the least miti- 
 
 * The patricians earned it against the bill only by a majority of one tribe. 
 And now they were so well pleased with the people, that the very next morn¬ 
 ing a decree was passed, assigning six acres of the lands of Veii, not only 
 to every father of a family, but to every single person of free condition. On 
 the other hand, the people delighted with this libe?’alitv, allowed the elect 
 -ng of consuls, instead of military tribunes. 
 
268 
 
 CAM1LLUS. 
 
 gate their rage, though, as a man of great goocmess and ten¬ 
 derness of heart, he was inconsolable for his loss, and shut 
 himself up at home, a close mourner with the women, at the 
 same time that they were lodging an impeachment against him. 
 
 His accuser was Lucius Apuleius, who brought against him 
 a charge of fraud with respect to the Tuscan spoils; and it was 
 alleged that certain brass gates, a part of those spoils, were 
 found with him. The people were so much exasperated, that 
 it was plain they would lay hold on any pretext to condemn 
 him. He, therefore, assembled his friends, his colleagues, 
 and fellow soldiers, a great number in all, and begged of them 
 not to suffer him to be crushed by false and unjust accusations, 
 and exposed to the scorn of his enemies. When they had co.n 
 suited together, and fully considered the affair, the answer 
 they gave was, that they did not believe it in their power to 
 prevent the sentence, but they would willingly assist him to 
 pay the fine that might belaid upon him. He could not, how¬ 
 ever, bear the thoughts of so great an indignity, and giving 
 way to his resentment, determined to quit the city as a vol¬ 
 untary exile. Having taken leave of his wife and children, 
 he went in silence from his house to the gate of the city.* 
 There he made a stand, and turning about, stretched out his 
 hands towards the Capitol, and prayed to the gods ,—“ That 
 if he was driven out without any fault of his own, and merely 
 by the violence or envy of the people, the Romans might 
 quickly repent it, and express to all the world their want of 
 Camillus, and their regret for his absence.” 
 
 When he had thus, like Achilles, uttered his imprecations 
 against his countrymen, he departed; and, leaving his cause 
 undefended, he was condemned to pay a fine of fifteen thou¬ 
 sand ases; which, reduced to Grecian money, is one thousand 
 five hundred drachmae; for the as is a small coin that is the 
 tenth part of a piece of silver, which for that reason is called 
 denarius , and answers to our drachma . There is not a man in 
 Rome who does not believe that these imprecations of Camil¬ 
 lus had .heir effect; though the punishment of his countrymen 
 for their injustice proved nowise agreeable to him, but on the 
 contrary, matter of grief. Yet how great, how memorable 
 was that punishment! How remarkably did vengeance pursue 
 the Romans! What danger, destruction, and disgrace did those 
 times bring upon the city! Whether it was the work of for¬ 
 tune, or whether it is the office of some deity, to see that vir¬ 
 tue sha'l not be oppressed by the ungrateful with impunity.! 
 
 * This was four years after the taking* of Falerii. 
 
 f It was the goddess Nemesis whom the heathens believed to have the 
 office of punishing evil actions in this world, particularly pride and ingrati¬ 
 tude. 
 
CAMILLUS 
 
 269 
 
 The first token ol the approaching calamities, was the death 
 vi Julius the Censor .* * * § For the Romans have a particular vene¬ 
 ration for the censor, and look upon his office as sacred. A 
 second token happened a little before the exile of Camillus. 
 Maicus Ceditius, a man of no illustrious family indeed, nor of 
 senatorial rank, but a person of great probity and virtue, in¬ 
 formed the military tribunes of a matter which deserved great 
 attention. As he was going the night before along what is 
 called the New Road, he said he was addressed in a loud 
 voice. Upon turning about he saw nobody, but heard these 
 words in an accent more than human:—“Go, Marcus Ceditius, 
 and early in the morning acquaint the magistrates, that they 
 must shortly expect the Gauls. ” But the tribunes made a jest 
 of the information; and soon after followed the disgrace of 
 Camillas. 
 
 The Gauls are of Celtic origin,t and are said to have left 
 their country, which was too small to maintain their vast num¬ 
 bers, to go in search of another. These emigrants consisted 
 of many thousands of young and able warriors, with a still 
 greater number of women and children. Part of them took 
 their route towards the northern ocean, crossed the Rhiphaean 
 mountains, and settled in the extreme parts of Europe; and 
 part established themselves for a long time between the Py¬ 
 renees and the Alps, near the Senones and Celtorians. J But 
 happening to taste of wine, which was then for the first time 
 brought out of Italy, they so much admired the liquor, and 
 were so enchanted with this new pleasure, that they snatched 
 up their arms, and taking their parents along with them, 
 marched to the Alps,§ to seek that country which produced 
 
 * The Greek text, a* it now stands, instead of the censor Julius, has the 
 month of July; but that has been owing' to the error of some ignorant tran¬ 
 scriber. Upon the death of Caius Julius the censor, Marcus Cornelius was 
 appointed to succeed him; but as the censorship of the latter proved unfortu¬ 
 nate, ever after, when a censor happened to die in his office, they not only 
 forbore naming another in his place, but obliged his colleague to quit his 
 dignity. 
 
 | The ancients called all the inhabitants of the west and north, as far as 
 Scythia, by the common name of Celtse. 
 
 t The country of the Senones contained Sens, Auxerre, and Troyes, as 
 far up as Paris. Who the Celtorii were is not known; probably the word 
 is corrupted. 
 
 § Livy tells us, Italy was known to the Gauls two hundred years before, 
 though he does indeed mention the story of Aruns. Then he goes on to 
 inform us, that the migration of the Gauls into Italy and other countries, 
 was occasioned by their numbers being too large for their old settlements, 
 and that the two brothers Beliovesus and Sigovesus casting lots to determine 
 which wav they should steer their course; Italy fell to Beliovesus, and Ger. 
 many to Sigovesus. 
 
270 
 
 CAMfLLUS. 
 
 such excellent fruit, and, in comparison of which, they con 
 sidered all others as barren and ungenial. 
 
 The man that first carried wine amongst them, and excitec. 
 them to invade Italy, is said to have been Aruns, a Tuscan, a 
 man of some distinction, and not naturally disposed to mis¬ 
 chief, but led to it by his misfortunes. He was guardian to 
 an orphan named Lucumo,* of the greatest fortune in the 
 country, and most celebrated for beauty. Aruns brought him 
 up from a boy, and, when grown up, he still continued at his 
 house, upon a pretence of enjoying his conversation. Mean¬ 
 while he had corrupted his guardian’s wife, or she had cor¬ 
 rupted him, and for a long time the criminal commerce was 
 carried on undiscovered. At length their passion becoming 
 so violent, that they could neither restrain nor conceal it, the 
 young man carried her off, and attempted to keep her openly. 
 The husband endeavoured to find his redress at law, but was 
 disappointed by the superior interest and wealth of Lucumo. 
 He therefore quitted his own country, and having heard ol 
 the enterprising spirit of the Gauls, went to them, and con¬ 
 ducted their armies into Italy. 
 
 In their first expedition they soon possessed themselves of 
 that country which stretches out from the Alps to both seas. 
 That this of old belonged to the Tuscans, the names them¬ 
 selves are a proof; for the sea which lies to the north is called 
 the Adriatic, from a Tuscan city named Adria, and that or. 
 the other side to the south is called the Tuscan sea. All tha‘ 
 country is well planted with trees, has excellent pastures, and 
 is well watered with rivers. It contained eighteen considera¬ 
 ble cities, whose manufactures and trade procured them the 
 gratifications of luxury. The Gauls expelled the Tuscans, 
 and made themselves masters of these cities; but this was done 
 long before. 
 
 The Gauls were now besieging Clusium, a city of Tuscany. 
 The Clusians applied to the Romans, entreating them to send 
 ambassadors and letters to the barbarians. Accordingly they 
 sent three illustrious persons of the Fabian family, who had 
 borne the highest employments in the state. The Gauls re¬ 
 ceived them courteously on account of the name of Rome; and 
 putting a stop to their operations against the town, came to a 
 conference. But when they were asked what injury they had 
 received from the Clusians, that they came against their city, 
 Brennus king of the Gauls smiled, and said,—“The injury 
 the Clusians do us, is their keeping to themselves a large tract 
 
 * Ijucunvt was not the name but the title of* the young man. He was 
 hml of a Lucumony. Iletruria was divided into principalities called Lu 
 tjiiruonies. 
 
CAMIJXUS. 
 
 271 
 
 >f ground, when they can only cultivate a small one, and re* 
 fusing to give up a part of it to us, who are strangers, numer¬ 
 ous and poor. In the same manner you Romans were injured 
 formerly by the Albans, the Fidenates, and the Ardeates, 
 and lately by the people of Veii and Capenae, and the greatest 
 part of the Falisci and the Volsci. Upon these you make 
 war: if they refuse to share with you their goods, you enslave 
 their persons, lay waste their country, and demolish their 
 cities. Nor are your proceedings dishonourable or unjust; 
 for you follow the most ancient of laws, which directs the 
 weak to obey the strong, from the Creator even to the irra 
 tional part of the creation, that are taught by nature to make 
 use of the advantage their strength affords them against the 
 feeble. Cease then to express your compassion for the Clu- 
 sians, lest you teach the Gauls in their turn to commiserate 
 those that have been oppressed by the Romans.” 
 
 By this answer the Romans clearly perceived that Brennus 
 would come to no terms; and therefore they went into Clu- 
 sium, where they encouraged and animated the inhabitants to 
 a sally against the barbarians, either to make trial of the 
 strength of the Clusians, or to show their own. The Clusians 
 made the sally, and a sharp conflict ensued near the walls, 
 when Quintus Ambustus, one of the Fabii, spurred his horse 
 against a Gaul of extraordinary size and figure, who had ad¬ 
 vanced a good way before the ranks. At first he was not 
 known, because the encounter was hot, and his armour daz¬ 
 zled the eyes of the beholders; but when he had overcome and 
 killed the Gaul, and came to despoil him of his arms, Brennus 
 knew him and called the gods to witness ,— 66 That against all 
 the laws and usages of mankind which were esteemed the 
 most sacred and inviolable, Ambustus came as an ambassador, 
 but acted as an enem} T .” He drew off his men directly, and 
 bidding the Clusians farewell led his army towards Rome. 
 But that he might not seem to rejoice that such an affront was 
 offered, or to have wanted a pretext for hostilities, he sent to 
 demand the offender, in order to punish him, and in the mean 
 time advanced but slowly. 
 
 The herald being arrived, the senate was assembled, and 
 many spoke against the Fabii; particularly the priests, called 
 fecialcs , represented the action as an offence against religion, 
 and adjured the senate to lay the whole guilt and the expiation 
 of it upon the person who alone was to blame, and so to avert 
 the wrath of heaven from the rest of the Romans. These fe- 
 cinhs were appointed by Numa, the mildest and justest of 
 kings, conservators of peace, as well as judges to give sanction 
 to the just causes of war. The senate referred the matter to 
 the people, and the priests, accused Fal ius with some ardoui 
 
272 
 
 CAMLLL.U&. 
 
 before them; but such was the disregard they expressed fo 
 their persons, and such their contempt of religion, that thej 
 constituted that very Fabius and his brethren military tri 
 bunes.* 
 
 As soon as the Gauls were informed of this, they were 
 greatly enraged, and would no longer delay their march, but 
 hastened forward with the utmost celerity. Their prodigious 
 numbers, their glittering arms, their fury and impetuosity, 
 struck terror wherever they came; people gave up their lands 
 for lost, not doubting but the cities would soon follow. How¬ 
 ever, what was beyond all expectation, they injured no man’s 
 property; they neither pillaged the fields, nor insulted the 
 cities; and as they passed by, they cried out,—“They were 
 going to Rome, they were at war with the Romans only, and 
 considered all others as their friends.” 
 
 While the barbarians were going forward in this impetuous 
 manner, the tribunes led out their forces to battle, in number 
 not inferior! (for they consisted of forty thousand foot,) but 
 the greatest part undisciplined, and such as had never handled 
 a weapon before. Besides, they paid no attention to religion, 
 having neither propitiated the gods by sacrifice, nor consulted 
 the soothsayers, as was their duty in time of danger, and be¬ 
 fore an engagement. Another thing, which occasioned no 
 small confusion, was, the number of persons joined in the 
 command; whereas before, they had often appointed for wars 
 of less consideration a single leader, whom they call dictator, 
 sensible of how great consequence it is to good order and suc¬ 
 cess, at a dangerous crisis, to be actuated as it were with one 
 soul, and to have the absolute command invested in one per¬ 
 son. Their ungrateful treatment of Camillus, too, was not the 
 least unhappy circumstance; as it now appeared dangerous 
 for the generals to use their authority without some flattering 
 indulgence to the people. 
 
 In this condition they marched out of the city, and encamp¬ 
 ed about eleven miles from it, on the banks cf the river Allia, 
 not far from its confluence with the Tyber. There the bar¬ 
 barians came upon them, and as the Romans engaged in a dis¬ 
 orderly manner, they were shamefully beaten and put to flight. 
 Their left wing was soon pushed into the river, and there de¬ 
 stroyed. The right wing, which quitted the field to avoid the 
 charge, and gained the hills, did not suffer so much; many of 
 them escaping to Rome. The rest that survived the carnage, 
 
 * The year of Rome 366; or, according- to some chronolog*ers, 365. 
 
 ■(-They were inferior in number; for the Gauls were seventy thousand; and 
 therefore the Romans, when they came to action, were oblig-ed to extend 
 their wing-s so as to make their centre very thin, which was one reason oi 
 their being- sco.i broken. 
 
CAMILLUS. 
 
 273 
 
 when the enemy were satiated with blood, stole by night to 
 Veii, concluding that Rome was lost, and its inhabitants pul 
 to the sword. 
 
 This battle was fought when the moon was at full, about (he 
 summer solstice, the very same day that the slaughter of the 
 Fabii happened long before,* when three hundred of them 
 were cut off by the Tuscans. The second misfortune, how¬ 
 ever, so much effaced the memory of the first, that the day is 
 still called the day of Allia, from the river of that name. 
 
 As to the point, whether there be any lucky or unlucky 
 days,t and whether Heraclitus was right in blaming Hesiod 
 for distinguishing them into fortunate and unfortunate, as not 
 knowing that the nature of all days is the same, we have con¬ 
 sidered it in another place. But on this occasion, perhaps, it 
 may not be amiss to mention a few examples. The Boeotians, 
 on the fifth of the month which they call Hippodromius , and 
 the Athenians Hecatombseon (July), gained two signal victo¬ 
 ries, both of which restored liberty to Greece; the one at 
 Leuctra; the other at Geraestus, above two hundred years be¬ 
 fore,! when they defeated Lattamyas and the Thessalians. 
 On the other hand, the Persians were beaten by the Greeks on 
 the sixth of Boedromion (September) at Marathon, on the third 
 at Plataea, as also Mycale, and on the twenty-sixth at Arbeli 
 About the full moon of the same month, the Athenians, under 
 the conduct of Chabrias, were victorious in the sea-fight near 
 Naxos, and on the twentieth they gained the victory of Sala- 
 mis, as we have mentioned in the treatise concerning days. 
 The month Thargelion (May) was also remarkably unfortu¬ 
 nate to the barbarians; for in that month Alexander defeated 
 the king of Persia’s generals near the Granicus; and the Car¬ 
 thaginians were beaten by Timoleon in Sicily on the twenty- 
 fourth of the same; a day still more remarkable (according to 
 Euphorus, Callisthenes, Demaster, and Phylarchus) for the 
 taking of Troy. On the contrary, the month Metagitnion 
 (August), which the Boeotians, call Panemus , was very unlucky 
 to the Greeks; for on the seventh they were beaten by Anti- 
 
 w The sixteenth of July. 
 
 j* The ancients deemed some days lucky, and others unlucky, either from 
 some occult power which they supposed to be in numbers, or from the na¬ 
 ture of the deities who presided over them, or else from observation of for¬ 
 tunate or unfortunate events having often happened on particular days. 
 
 t The Thessalians, under the command of Lattamyas, were beaten by the 
 Boeotians not long before the battle of Thermopylae, and little more than one 
 hundred years before the battle of Leuctra. There is also an error here in 
 the name of the place, probably introduced by some blundering transcriber 
 (Tor Plutarch must have been well acquainted with the names of places in 
 lloeotia.) Instead of Geraestus, we should read Ceressus; the fr rmer was a 
 promontory ;n Euboea, the latter was a Tort in Boeotia. 
 
 Vot. I.— -2 0 2.5 
 
274 
 
 CAMILLUS. 
 
 pater in the battle of Cranon and utterly ruined, and before 
 that they were defeated by Philip at Chaeronea. And on that 
 same day and month and year, the troops, which under Ar- 
 chidamus, made a descent upon Italy, were cut to pieces by 
 the barbarians. The Carthaginians have set a mark upon the 
 twenty-second of that month, as a day that has always brought 
 upon them the greatest of calamities. At the same time 1 am 
 not ignorant, that about the time of the celebration of the mys¬ 
 teries ?, Thebes was demolished by Alexander; and after that, 
 on the same twentieth of Boedromion (September), a day sacred 
 to the solemnities of Bacchus, the Athenians were obliged to 
 receive a Macedonian garrison. On one and the same day, 
 the Romans, under the command of Csepio, were stripped of 
 their camp by the Cimbri, and afterwards under Lucullus con¬ 
 quered Tigranes and the Armenians. King Attalus and 
 Pompey the Great both died on their birth-days. And I could 
 give account of many others, who, on the same day, at differ¬ 
 ent periods, have experienced both good and bad fortune. Be 
 that as it may, the Romans marked the day of their defeat at 
 Allia as unfortunate; and as superstitious fears generally in¬ 
 crease upon a misfortune-, they not only distinguished that as 
 such, but the two next that follow it in every month through¬ 
 out the year. 
 
 vlf, after so decisive abattle, the Gauls had immediately pur 
 sued-the fugitives, there would have been nothing to hinder 
 the entire destruction of Rome, and all that remained in it; 
 with such terror.,was the city struck at the return of those that 
 escaped from the battle, and so filled with confusion and dis¬ 
 traction! But the Gauls, not imagining the victory to be so 
 great as it was, in the excess of their joy indulged themselves 
 in good cheer; and. shared the plunder of the camp; by which 
 means numbers that were for leaving the city had leisure to 
 escape, and those that remained had time to recollect them¬ 
 selves, and prepare for their defeftc6;Tor, quitting the rest of 
 the city they retired to the Capitol which they fortified with 
 strong ramparts^ and provided well with arms. But their first 
 care was of their holy things, most of which they conveyed 
 into the Capitol. As for the sacred fire, W\e vestal virgins took 
 it upf together with other holy relics,'and fled away fr with it: 
 though some will have it, that they have not the charge of any 
 thing but that J ever-living fire,/which Numa appointed, to be 
 worshipped as the principled all things. - It is indeed the mos' 
 active thing in nature; and all generation either is motion, oi 
 at least with" motion. Other parts >of, matter, when the hea' 
 fails,-lie /sluggish and dead, and crave, the/force of fire as an. 
 Informing soul; 1 and when/that comes,'they, acquire some ac. 
 live or passive quality, lienee it was that Numa, a man cu ^ 
 
CAMUJL US. 
 
 27b 
 
 rious in his researches into nature, and, on account of his wis¬ 
 dom, supposed to have conversed with the Muses, consecrated 
 this fire, and ordered it to be perpetually kept up, as an image 
 of that eternal power which preserves and actuates the uni¬ 
 verse. Others say, that according to the usage of the Greeks, 
 the fire is kept ever burning before the holy places, as an em¬ 
 blem of purity; but that there are other things in the most se¬ 
 cret part of the temple, kept from the sight of all but those 
 virgins whom they call vestals; and the most current opinion 
 is, that the palladium of Troy, which iEneas brought into Italy, 
 is laid up there. 
 
 Others say, the Samothracian gods are there concealed, 
 whom Dardanus,* after he had built Troy, brought to that 
 city, and caused to be worshipped; and that after the taking 
 of Troy, iEneas privately carried them of!', and kept them till 
 he settled in Italy. But those that pretend to know most 
 about these matters, say, there are placed there two casks of a 
 moderate size, the one open and empty, the other full and 
 sealed up, but neither of them to be seen by any but those 
 holy virgins. Others again think this is all a mistake, which 
 arose from their putting most of their sacred utensils in two 
 casks, and hiding them under ground, in the temple of Qui- 
 rinus, and that the place, from those casks, is still called Do - 
 liola . 
 
 They took, however, with them the choicest and most sa 
 cred things they had, and fled with them along the side of the 
 river, where Lucius Albinus, a plebeian, among others that 
 were making their escape, was carrying his wife and children, 
 and some of his most necessary moveables, in a wagon. But 
 when he saw the vestals in a helpless and weary condition, 
 carrying in their arms the sacred symbols of the gods, he im¬ 
 mediately took out his family and goods, and put the virgins 
 in the wagon, that they might malte their escape to some of 
 the Grecian cities + This piety of Alb inn- and the venera* 
 
 * Dardanus, who flourished in the time of Moses, about the year before 
 Christ 1480, is said to haye been originally of Arcadia, from whence he pass¬ 
 ed to Samothrace. Afterwards lie marred Batea or Arista, the daughter of 
 Teucer, king of Phrygia. Of the Samothracian gods we have already given 
 an account; but may add here, from Macrcbius, that the dii magni, which 
 Dardanus brought from Samothrace, were the penaies , or household gods, 
 which TEneas afterwards carried into Italy. Dionysius of Halicarnassus says 
 he had seen the pennies in an old temple at Rome. They were of antique 
 workmanship, representing two young men sitting, and holding each a lance 
 in his hand, and had for their inscription Dcnas, instead of Fenas. 
 
 t Albinus conducted them to Caere, a city of Hetmria, where they met 
 with a favourable reception. The vestals remained a considerable time at 
 Caere, and there performed the usual rites of religion: and h°m e th<»se rite? 
 were called Ceremonies . 
 
276 
 
 CAMILLUS. 
 
 lion he expressed for the gods at so dangerous a juncture, de¬ 
 serves to be recorded. 
 
 As for the other priests, and the most ancient of the sena¬ 
 tors that were of consular dignity, or had been honoured with 
 triumphs, they could not bear to think of quitting the city. 
 They, therefore, put on their holy vestments and robes of 
 state, and, in a form dictated by Fabius the pontifex maximus , 
 making their vows to the gods,* * * § devoted themselves to their 
 country. Thus attired, they sat down in their ivory chairs 
 in the forum,t prepared for the worst extremity. 
 
 The third day after the battle, Brennus arrived with his 
 army; and finding the gates of the city opened, and the walls 
 destitute of guards, at first he had some apprehensions of a 
 stratagem or ambuscade, for he could not think the Romans 
 had so entirely given themselves up to despair. But when he 
 found it to be so in reality, he entered by the Colline gate, and 
 took Rome, a little more than three hundred and sixty years 
 after its foundation; if it is likely that any exact account has 
 been kept of those times,! the confusion of which has occasion¬ 
 ed so much obscurity in things of a later date. 
 
 Some uncertain rumours, however, of Rome’s being taken, 
 appear to have soon passed into Greece; for Iieraclides of 
 Pontus,§ who lived not long after these times, in his treatise 
 concerning the soul, relates, that an account was brought from 
 the west, that an army from the country of the Hyperboreans, |) 
 had taken a Greek city called Rome, situated somewhere neai 
 the Great Sea. But I do not wonder that such a fabulous wri 
 ter as Heraclides should embellish his account of the taking of 
 Rome with the pompous terms of Hyperboreans and the Great 
 Sea. It is very clear that Aristotle the philosopher had heard 
 that Rome was taken by the Gauls; but he calls its deliverer 
 
 * The Romans believed, that by those voluntary consecrations to the in¬ 
 fernal gods, disorder and confusion were brought among the enemy. 
 
 ! These ivory, or curule chairs were used only by those who had borne 
 the most honourable offices; and the persons who had a right to sit in them 
 bore also ivory staves, 
 
 t Livy tells us, that the Romnna i/ r those times did not much apply them- 
 selves to writing, and that the commentaries of the pontifices, and their other 
 monuments, both public and private, were destroyed when the city was 
 burnt by the Gauls. 
 
 § lie lived at that very time; fer he was at first Plate’s scholar, and after 
 wards Aristotle’s; and Plata was but forty-one years old when Rome was ta- 
 k:cn. 
 
 ]j The ancients called all the inhabitants of the north Hyperboreans , and 
 the Mediterranean the Great Sea , to distinguish it from the Euxine. Not¬ 
 withstanding that Heraclides was right in this, he might be a very fabulom 
 writer: so was Herodotus; and so were the ancient historians of almost all 
 countries; and the reason is obvious; they had little more than tradition tc 
 
CAMILLUS. 
 
 27? 
 
 Lucius; whereas Camillus was not called Lucius but Marcus. 
 These authors had no better authority than common report. 
 
 Brennus, thus in possession of Rome, set a strong guard 
 about the Capitol, and himself went down into the forum l 
 where he was struck with amazement at the sight of so many 
 men seated in great state and silence, who neither rose up at 
 the approach of their enemies, nor changed countenance or 
 colour, but leaned upon their staves, and sat looking upon 
 each other without fear or concern. The Gauls, astonished 
 at so surprising a spectacle, and regarding them as superior 
 beings, for along time were afraid to approach or touch them. 
 At last one of them ventured to go near Manius Papirius, and 
 advancing his hand, gently stroked his beard, which was very 
 long; upon which Papirius struck him on the head with his 
 staff, and wounded him. The barbarian then drew his sword 
 and killed him. After this, the Gauls fell upon the rest and 
 slew them, and continuing their rage, despatched all that 
 came in their way. Then, for many days together, they pil¬ 
 laged the houses and carried off the spoil; at last they set fire 
 to the city, and demolished what escaped the flames, to ex¬ 
 press their indignation against those in the Capitol who obeyed 
 not their summons, but made a vigorous defence, and greatly 
 annoyed the besiegers from the walls. This it was that pro¬ 
 voked them to destroy the whole city, and to despatch all that 
 fell into their hands, without sparing either sex or age. 
 
 As by the length of the siege provisions began to fail the 
 Gauls, they divided their forces, and part stayed with the 
 king before that fortress, while part foraged the country, and 
 *aid waste the towns and villages. Their success had inspired 
 them with such confidence, that they did not keep in a body, 
 but carelessly rambled about in different troops and parties. 
 It happened that the larged and best disciplined corps went 
 against Ardea, where O villus, since his exile, lived in abso¬ 
 lute retirement. This great event, however, aw^aked him into 
 action, and his mind was employed in contriving, not how to 
 keep himself concealed and to avoid the Gauls, but, if an op¬ 
 portunity should offer, to attack and conquer them. Perceiv¬ 
 ing that the Ardeans were not deficient in numbers, but cou¬ 
 rage and discipline, which was owing to the inexperience and 
 inactivity of their officers, he applied first to the young men, 
 and told them—“ They ought not to ascribe the defeat of the 
 Romans to the valour of the Gauls, or to consider the calami¬ 
 ties they had suffered in the midst of their infatuation, as 
 brought upon them by men who, in fact, could not claim the 
 merit of the victory, but as the work of fortune. That it 
 would be glorious, though they risked something by it, to re 
 pel a foreign and barbarous enemy, whose end in conquering 
 
 25 * 
 
278 
 
 CAMILLUS. 
 
 was, like fire, to destroy what they subdued; but that if they 
 would assume a proper spirit, he would give them an oppor¬ 
 tunity to conquer without any hazard at all.” When he found 
 the young men were pleased with his discourse, he went next 
 to the magistrates and senate of Ardea, and having persuaded 
 them also to adopt his scheme, he armed all that were of a 
 proper age for it, and drew them up within the walls, that the 
 enemy, who were but at a small distance, might not know 
 what he was about. 
 
 The Gauls, having scoured the country, and loaded them 
 selves with plunder, encamped upon the plains in a careless 
 and disorderly manner. Night found them intoxicated with 
 wine, and silence reigned in the camp. As soon as Camillus 
 was informed of this by his spies, he led the Ardeans out; and 
 having passed the intermediate space without noise, he reach¬ 
 ed their camp about midnight. Then he ordered a loud shout 
 to be set up; and the trumpets to sound on all sides, to cause 
 the greater confusion; but it was with difficulty they recover¬ 
 ed themselves from their sleep and intoxication. A few, 
 whom fear had made sober, snatched up their arms to oppose 
 Camillus, and fell with their weapons in their hands; but the 
 greatest part of them, buried in sleep and wine, were surpris¬ 
 ed unarmed, and easily despatched. A small number, that in 
 the night escaped out of the camp, and wandered in the fields, 
 were picked up next day by the cavalry, and put to the sword. 
 
 The fame of this action soon reaching the neighbouring 
 cities, drew out many of their ablest warriors. Particularly, 
 such of the Romans as had escaped from the battle of Aliia 
 to Veii, lamented with themselves in some such manner as 
 this:—“What a general has heaven taken from Rome in Ca¬ 
 millus, to adorn the Ardeans with his exploits! while the city 
 which produced and brought up so great a man is absolutely 
 ruined; and we for want of a leader, sit idle within the walls 
 of a strange city, and betray the liberties of Italy. Come, 
 then, let us send to the Ardeans to demand our general, or else 
 take our weapons and go to him: for he is no longer an exile, 
 nor we citizens, having no country but what is in possession 
 of an enemy.” 
 
 This motion was agreed to, and they sent to Camillus to en¬ 
 treat him to accept of the command. But he answered, he could 
 not do it, before he was legally appointed to do it by the Ro¬ 
 mans in the Capitol;* for he looked upon them, while they 
 
 * Livy says, the Roman soldiers at Veii applied *o the remains of the senate 
 in the Capitol for leave, before they offered the command to Camillus. Sc 
 much regard had those brave men for the constitution of their country, though 
 'vome then lay in ashes. Every private man was indeed a patriot. 
 
CAMILLUS. 
 
 27<J 
 
 were in being, as the commonwealth, and would readily obey 
 their orders, but without them would not be so officious as to 
 .nterpose. * 
 
 They admired the modesty and honour of Camillus, but 
 knew not how to send the proposal to the Capitol. It seemed, 
 indeed, impossible for a messenger to pass into the citadel 
 whilst the enemy were in possession of the city. However, 
 a young man named Pontius Cominius, not distinguished 
 by his birth, but fond of glory, readily took upon him the 
 commission. He carried no letters to the citizens in the Capi¬ 
 tol, lest, if he should happen to be taken, the enemy should 
 discover by them the intentions of Camillus. Having dressed 
 himself in mean attire, under which he concealed some pieces 
 of cork, he travelled all day without fear, and approached the 
 city as it grew dark. He could not pass the river by the 
 bridge, because it was guarded by the Gauls, and, therefore, 
 took his clothes, which were neither many nor heavy, and 
 bound them about his head; and having laid himself upon the 
 pieces of cork, easily swam over and reached the city. Then 
 avoiding those quarters where, by the lights and noise, he 
 concluded they kept watch, he went to the Carmental gate, 
 where there was the greatest silence, and whei e the hill of the 
 Capitol is the steepest and most craggy. Up this he got un¬ 
 perceived, by a way the most difficult and dreadful, and ad¬ 
 vanced near the guards upon the walls. After he had hailed 
 them, and told them his name, they received him with joy, 
 and conducted him to the magistrates. 
 
 The senate was presently assembled, and he acquainted them 
 with the victory of Camillus, which they had not heard of be¬ 
 fore, as well as with the proceedings of the soldiers at Veii, 
 uid exhorted them to confirm Camillus in the command, as 
 the citizens out of Rome would obey none but him. Having 
 heard his report, and consulted together, they declared Camil¬ 
 lus dictator, and sent Pontius back the same way he came, 
 who was equally fortunate in his return; for he passed the 
 enemy undiscovered, and delivered to the Romans at Veii the 
 decree of the senate, which they received with pleasure. 
 
 Camillus, on his arrival, found twenty thousand of them in 
 arms, to whom he added a greater number of the allies, and 
 prepared to attack the enemy. Thus was he appointed dicta¬ 
 tor the second time; and having put himself at the head of the 
 Romans and confederates, he marched out against the Gauls. 
 
 Mean time, some of the barbarians employed in the si?ge, 
 happening to pass by the place where Pontius had made his 
 way by night up to the Capitol, observe 1 many traces of his 
 
 MjtS'iV /AihuTf'jL? 
 
280 
 
 CAxUILLUS. 
 
 leet and hands, as he had worked himself up the rock, torn ofi 
 what grew there, and tumbled down the mould. Of this they 
 informed the king: who coming and viewing it for the present 
 said nothing; but in the evening he assembled the lightest and 
 most active of his men, who were the likeliest to climb any 
 difficult height, and thus addressed them:—“ The enemy have 
 themselves shown us a way to reach them, which we weic 
 ignorant of, and have proved that this rock is neither inacces¬ 
 sible nor untrod by human feet. What a shame would it be 
 then, after having made a beginning, not to finish; and to quit 
 the place as impregnable, when the Romans themselves have 
 taught us how to take it? Where it was easy for one man to 
 ascend, it can not be difficult for many, one by one; nay, 
 should many attempt it together, they will find great advan¬ 
 tage in assisting each other. In the mean time, I intend great 
 rewards and honours for such as shall distinguish themselves 
 on this occasion.” 
 
 The Gauls readily embraced the king’s proposal; and about 
 midnight a number of them together began to climb the rock 
 in silence, which though steep and craggy, proved more prac¬ 
 ticable than they expected. The foremost having gained the 
 top, put themselves in order, and were ready to take posses¬ 
 sion of the wall, and to fall upon the guards, who were fast 
 asleep; for neither man nor dog perceived their coming. 
 However, there were certain sacred geese kept near Juno’s 
 temple,* and at other times plentifully fed; but at this time, 
 as corn and the other provisions that remained were scarce 
 sufficient for the men, they were neglected and in poor condi¬ 
 tion. This animal is naturally quick of hearing, and soon 
 alarmed at any noise; and as hunger kept them waking and 
 uneasy, they immediately perceived the coming of the Gauls, 
 and running at them with all the noise they could make, they 
 awoke all the guards. The barbarians now, perceiving they 
 were discovered, advanced with loud shouts and great fury. 
 The Romans in haste snatched up such weapons as came to 
 hand, and acquitted themselves like men on this sudden emer¬ 
 gency. First of all, Manlius, a man of consular dignity, re¬ 
 markable for his strength and extraordinary courage, engaged 
 two Gauls at once; and as one of them was lifting his battle- 
 axe, with his sword cut off his right hand; at the same time 
 he thrust the boss of his shield in the face of the other, and 
 
 * Geese were ever after had in honour at Rome, and a flock of them al¬ 
 ways kept at the expense of the public. A golden image of a goose was 
 erected in memory of them, and a goose every year earned in triumph upon 
 a soft litter finely adorned; while dogs were held in abhorrence by the Ro¬ 
 mans, who every year impaled one of them upon a branch of elder.— Plin 
 ti Pint, de Fortund 
 
CAM1LLUS. 
 
 281 
 
 dashed him down the precipice. Thus standing upon the 
 rampart, with those that had come to his assistance, and fough 4 
 by his side, he drove back the rest of the Gauls that had got 
 up, wno were no great number, and who performed nothing 
 worthy of such an attempt. The Romans having thus escaped 
 the danger that threatened them, as soon as it was light, threw 
 the officer that commanded the watch down the rock amongst 
 ihe enemy, and decreed Manlius a reward for his victory, 
 which had more of honour in it than profit; for every man 
 gave him what he had for one day’s allowance, which was half 
 a pound of bread, and a quartern of the Greek cotyle. 
 
 After this the Gauls began to lose courage; for provisions 
 were scarce, and they could not forage for fear of Camillus.* 
 Sickness, too, prevailed among them, which took its rise from 
 the heaps of dead bodies, and from their encamping amidst the 
 rubbish of the houses they had burnt; where there was such a 
 quantity of ashes, as, when raised by the winds or heated by 
 the sun, by their dry and acrid quality so corrupted the air, 
 that every breath of it was pernicious. But what affected 
 them most was the change of climate; for they had lived in 
 countries that abounded with shades and agreeable shelters 
 from the heat, and were now got into grounds that were low, 
 and unhealthy in autumn. All this, together with the length 
 and tediousness of the siege, which had now lasted more than 
 six months, caused such desolation among them, and carried 
 off such numbers, that the carcasses lay unburied. 
 
 The besieged, however, were not in a much better condition. 
 Famine, which now pressed them hard, and their ignorance 
 of what Camillus was doing, caused no small dejection; for 
 the barbarians guarded the city with so much care, that it was 
 impossible to send any messenger to him. Both sides being 
 thus equally discouraged, the advanced guards, who were 
 near enough to converse, first began to talk of treating. As 
 the motion was approved by those that had the chief direction 
 of affairs, Sulpitius, one of the military tribunes, went and 
 conferred with Brennus, where it was agreed that the Romans 
 should pay a thousand pounds weight of goldt and that the 
 Gauls, upon the receipt of it, should immediately quit the city 
 and its territories. When the conditions were sworn to, and 
 the gold was brought, the Gauls, endeavouring to avail them¬ 
 selves of false weights, privately at first, and afterwards open¬ 
 ly, drew down their own side of the balance. The Romans 
 expressing their resentmer t, Brennus, in a contemptuous and 
 
 * Camillas being’ master of the country, posted strong guards on all the 
 roads, and, in effect, besieged the besiegers, 
 t That is forty-five thousand pounds sterling 
 
 Von i.-2 P 
 
282 
 
 CAMILLUS. 
 
 insulting manner, took off his sword, and threw it, belt and 
 all, into the scale; and when Sulpitius asked what that meant, 
 he answered:— 46 What should it mean but wo* to the conquer¬ 
 ed ;” which became a proverbial saying. Some of the Romans 
 were highly incensed at this; and talked of returning with 
 their gold, and enduring the utmost extremities of the siege; 
 but others were of opinion that it was better to pass by a small 
 injury, since the indignity lay not in paying more than was 
 due, but in paying any thing at all; a disgrace only consequent 
 upon the necessity of the times. 
 
 While they were thus disputing with the Gauls, Camillus 
 arrived at the gates, and being informed of what had passed, 
 ordered the main body of his army to advance slowly and in 
 good order, while he with a select band marched hastily up to 
 the Romans, who all gave place, and received the dictator 
 with respect and silence. Then he took the gold out of the 
 scales, and gave it to the lictors , and ordered the Gauls to take 
 away the balance and the weights, and to be gone, telling 
 them,—“ It was the custom of the Romans to deliver their 
 country with steel, and not with gold.” And when Brennus 
 expressed his indignation, and complained he had great in¬ 
 justice done him by this infraction of the treaty, Camillus an¬ 
 swered,—“ That it was never lawfully made; nor could it be 
 valid without his consent, who was dictator and sole magis¬ 
 trate; they had, therefore, acted without proper authority. 
 But they might make their proposals now he was come, whom 
 the laws had invested with power either to pardon the sup 
 pliant, or punish the guilty, if proper satisfaction was not 
 made. 
 
 At this Brennus was still more highly incensed, and a skir¬ 
 mish ensued; swords were drawn on both sides, and thrusts 
 exchanged in a confused manner, which it is easy to conceive 
 must be the case, amidst the ruins of houses, and in narrow 
 streets, where there was not room to draw up regularly. 
 Brennus, however, soon recollected himself, and drew off his 
 forces into the camp, with the loss of a small number. In the 
 night he ordered them to march, and quit the city; and hav¬ 
 ing retreated about eight miles from it, ne encamped upon the 
 Gabinian road. Early in the morning Camillus came jp with 
 them, his arms dazzling the sight, and his men full of spirits 
 and fire. A sharp engagement ensued, which lasted a long 
 time; at length the Gauls were routed with great slaughter, 
 and their camp taken. Some of those that fled were killed in 
 the pursuit; but the greater part were cut in pieces bv the peo* 
 
 r Vae ri efts' 
 
CAMILLUS. 
 
 283 
 
 pie in the neighbouring towns and villages, who fell upon them 
 as they were dispersed.* 
 
 Thus was Rome strangely taken, and more strangely recov¬ 
 ered, after it had been seven months in the possession of the 
 barbarians; for they entered it a little after the Ides , the fif¬ 
 teenth of July, and were driven out about the Ides , the thir¬ 
 teenth of February following. Camillus returned in triumph, 
 as became the deliverer of his lost country, and the restorer of 
 Rome. Those that had quitted the place before the siege, with 
 their wives and children, now followed his chariot; and they 
 that had been besieged in the Capitol, and were almost per¬ 
 ishing with hunger, met the others and embraced them, weep¬ 
 ing for joy at this unexpected pleasure, which they almost con¬ 
 sidered as a dream. The priests and ministers of the gods 
 bringing back with them what holy things they had hid or 
 conveyed away when they fled, afforded a most desirable 
 spectacle to the people; and they gave them the kindest wel 
 come, as if the gods themselves had returned with them to 
 Rome. Next, Camillus sacrificed to the gods, and purified 
 the city, in a form dictated by the pontiffs. He rebuilt the 
 former temples, and erected a new one to Aius Loquutius , the 
 speaker , or Warner , upon the very spot where the voice from 
 heaven announced in the night to Marcus Ceditius the coming 
 of the barbarians. There was, indeed, no small difficulty in 
 discovering the places where the temples had stood, but it was 
 effected by the zeal of Camillus and the industry of the priests. 
 
 As it was necessary to rebuild the city, which was entire¬ 
 ly demolished, a heartless despondency seized the multitude, 
 and they invented pretexts of delay. They were in want of 
 all necessary materials, and had more occasion for repose and 
 refreshment after their sufferings, than to labour and wear 
 themselves out, when their bodies were weak, and their sub¬ 
 stance was gone. They had, therefore, a secret attachment to 
 Veii, a city which remained entire, and was provided with 
 every thing. This gave, a handle to their demagogues to ha¬ 
 rangue them, as usual, in a way agreeable to their inclinations, 
 and made them listen to seditious speeches against Camillus,— 
 i6 As if, to gratify his ambition and thirst of glory, he would 
 deprive them of a city fit to receive them, force them to pitch 
 their tents among rubbish, and rebuild a ruin that was like 
 one great funeral-pile, in order that he might not only be call- 
 
 * There is- reason to question the truth of the latter part of tills story. 
 Plutarch copied it from Livy. But Polybius represents the Gauls, as actu¬ 
 ally receiving 1 the gold from the Romans, and returning in safety to their 
 own country; and this is confirmed by Justin, Suetonius, and even by Livv 
 himself, in another part of his history;—x. 16. 
 
CAMILLUS. 
 
 284 
 
 ed the general and dictator of Rome, but the founder too, in* 
 stead of Romulus, whose right he invaded.” 
 
 On this account, the senate, afraid of an insurrection, would 
 not let Camillus lay down the dictatorship within the year, as 
 he desired, though no other person had ever borne that high 
 office more than six months. In the mean time they went 
 about to console the people, to gain them by caresses and 
 kind persuasions. One while they showed them the monu¬ 
 ments and tombs of their ancestors; then they put them in 
 mind of their temples and holy places, which Romulus and 
 Numa, and the other kings, had consecrated and left in charge 
 with them. Above all, amidst the sacred and awful symbols, 
 they took care to make them recollect the fresh human head,* 
 which was found when the foundations of the Capitol were 
 dug, and w T hich presignified, that the same place was destined 
 to be the head of Italy. They urged the disgrace it would be 
 to extinguish again the sacred fire, which the vestals had 
 lighted since the w r ar, and to quit the city; whether they were 
 to see it inhabited by strangers, or a desolate wild for flocks 
 to feed in. In this moving manner the patricians remonstra¬ 
 ted to the people both in public and private; and were :n their 
 turn much anected by the distress of the multitude, who la¬ 
 mented their present indigence, and begged of them, now they 
 were collected like the remains of a shipwreck, not to oblige 
 them to patch up the ruins of a desolated city, when there was 
 one entire and ready to receive them. 
 
 Camillus, therefore, thought proper to take the judgment of 
 the senate in a body; and when he had exerted his eloquence 
 in favour of his native country, and others had done the same, 
 he put it to the vote, beginning with Lucius Lucretius, whose 
 right it was to vote first, and who was to be followed by the 
 rest in their order. Silence was made; and as Lucretius was 
 about to declare himself, it happened that a centurion, who 
 then commanded the day-guard, as he passed the house, call¬ 
 ed with a loud voice to the ensign,—“to stop and setup his 
 standard there, for that was the best place to stay in.” These 
 words being so seasonably uttered, at a time when they were 
 doubtful and anxious about the event, Lucretius gave thanks 
 to the gods, and embraced the omen, while the rest gladly as¬ 
 sented. A wonderful change, at the same time, took place 
 
 * This prodigy happened in the reign of Tarquin the Proud, who un¬ 
 doubtedly must have put the head there on purpose; for in digging the 
 foundation, it was found warm and bleeding, as if just severed from the body. 
 Upon this the Romans sent to consult the Tuscan soothsayers, who, aftei 
 vainly endeavouring to bring the presage to favour their own country, ac¬ 
 knowledged that the place where that head was found would be the head 
 of all Italy.— Dion. Hat. Lb. iv. 
 
CAMILLAS. 
 
 285 
 
 in the minds of the people, who exhorted and encouraged each 
 other to the work, and they began to build immediately, not 
 in any order, or upon a regular plan, but as inclination or con¬ 
 venience directed. By reason of this hurry the streets were 
 narrow and intricate, and the houses badly laid out; for they 
 tell us both the walls of the city and the streets were built with¬ 
 in the compass of a year. 
 
 The persons appointed by Camillus to search for and mark 
 out the holy places, found all in confusion. As they were 
 Looking round the Palatium , they came to the court of Mars , 
 where the buildings, like the rest, were burnt and demolish¬ 
 ed by the barbarians; but in removing the rubbish and clear¬ 
 ing the place, they discovered, under a great heap of ashes, 
 the augural staff of Romulus. This staff is crooked at one end, 
 and called lituus. It is used in marking out the several quar¬ 
 ters of the heavens, in any process of divination by the flight 
 of birds, which Romulus was much skilled in and made great 
 use of. When he was taken out of the world, the priests care 
 fully preserved the staff from defilement, like other holy 
 relics; and this having escaped the fire, when the rest were 
 consumed, they indulged a pleasing hope, and considered it 
 as a presage, that Rome would last forever. * 
 
 Before they had finished the laborious task of building, a 
 new war broke out. The A^qui, the Volsci, and the Latins, 
 all at once invaded their territories, and the Tuscans laid siege 
 to Sutrium, a city in alliance with Rome. The military tri¬ 
 bunes, too, who commanded the army, being surrounded by 
 the Latins, near Mount Marcius, and their camp in great dan¬ 
 ger, sent to Rome to desire succours; on which occasion Camil¬ 
 lus was appointed dictator the third time. 
 
 Of this war there are two different accounts: I begin witli 
 the fabulous one. It is said, the Latins either seeking a pre¬ 
 tence for war, or really inclined to renew their ancient affinity 
 with the Romans, sent to demand of them a number of free¬ 
 born virgins in marriage. The Romans were in no small per¬ 
 plexity as to the course they should take: for, on the one hand, 
 they were afraid of war, as they were not yet re-established, 
 nor had recovered their losses; and on the other, they suspect¬ 
 ed that the Latins only wanted their daughters for hostages, 
 
 * About this time, the tribunes of the people determined to impeach Q. 
 Fabius, who had violated the law of nations, and thereby provoked the 
 Hauls, and occasioned the burning'of Rome. His crime being notorious, he 
 was summoned by C. Martius Rutilus before the assembly of the people, to 
 answer for his conduct in the embassy. The criminal had reason to fear the 
 severest punishment; but bis relations gave out that he died suddenly ; which 
 generally happened when the accused person had courage enough to pro 
 vent his condemnation, and the shame of a public punishment 
 
 26 
 
286 
 
 CAM1LLUS. 
 
 though they coloured their design with the special name oi 
 marriage. While they were thus embarrassed, a female slave, 
 named Tutula,* or, as some call her, Philotis, advised tne 
 magistrates to send with her some of the handsomest and most 
 genteel of the maid servants, dressed like virgins of good 
 families, and leave the rest to her. The magistrates approv¬ 
 ing the expedient, chose a number of female slaves proper for 
 her purpose, and sent them richly attired to the Latin camp, 
 which was not far from the city. At night, while the other 
 slaves conveyed away the enemies’ swords, Tutula or Philotis 
 got up into a wild fig-tree of considerable height, and having 
 spread a thick garment behind, to conceal her design from the 
 Latins, held up a torch towards Rome, which was the signal 
 agreed upon between her and the magistrates, who alone were 
 iri the secret. For this reason the soldiers sallied out in a tu¬ 
 multuous manner, calling upon each other, and hastened by 
 their officers, who found it difficult to bring them into any or 
 der. They made themselves masters, however, of the em 
 trenchments; and as the enemy, expecting no such attempt, 
 were asleep, they took the camp, and put the greatest part of 
 them to the sword. This happened on the Nones, the seventh 
 of July, then called Quintilis; and on that day they celebrate a 
 feast in memory of this action. In the first place, they sally 
 in a crowding and disorderly manner out of the city, pro¬ 
 nouncing aloud the most familiar and common names, as Caius, 
 Marcus, Lucius, and the like; by which they imitate the sol¬ 
 diers then calling upon each other in their hurry. Next, the 
 maid-servants walk about, elegantly dressed, and jesting on 
 all they meet. They have also a kind of fight among them¬ 
 selves, to express the assistance they gave in the engagement 
 with the Latins. Then they sit down to an entertainment, 
 shaded with branches of the fig-tree. And that day is called 
 Nonas Caprotinas , as some suppose, on account of the wild fig-tree, 
 from which the maid-servant held out the torch; for the Romans 
 called that tree caprijicus. Others refer the greatest part of 
 what is said and done on that occasion to that part of the story 
 of Romulus when he disappeared, and the darkness and tem¬ 
 pest, or as some imagine, an eclipse happened. It was on the 
 same day, at least, and the day might be called Nonas Caprotinas; 
 for the Romans call a goat Capra; and Romulus vanished out of 
 sight while he was holding an assembly of the people at the 
 Goat's Marsh , as we have related in his life. 
 
 The other account that is given of this war, and approved 
 by most historians, is as follows: Camillus, being appointed 
 dictator the third time, and knowing that the army under the 
 
 * In l'fr of Romulus, she is called Tutula. Macrobiuscalls her Tutela 
 
CAM1LLUS. 
 
 287 
 
 military tribunes was surrounded by the Latins and Volscians ; 
 was constrained to make levies among such as age had exempt 
 ed from service. With these he fetched a large compass about 
 mount Marcius, and, unperceived by the enemy, posted his 
 army behind them; and by lighting many fires signified his 
 arrival. The Romans that were besieged in their camp, being 
 encouraged by this resolved to sally out and join the battle. 
 But the Latins and Volscians kept close within their works, 
 drawing a line of circumvallation with palisades, because they 
 had the enemy on both sides, and resolving to wait for rein¬ 
 forcements from home, as well as for the Tuscan succours. 
 
 Camillus perceiving this, and fearing that the enemy might 
 surround him, as he had surrounded them, hastened to make 
 use of the present opportunity. As the works of the confede¬ 
 rates consisted of wood, and the wind used to blow hard from 
 the mountains at sun-rising, he provided a great quantity of 
 combustible matter, and drew out his forces at day-break. 
 Part of them he ordered, with loud shouts and missive wea¬ 
 pons, to begin the attack on the opposite side; while he him¬ 
 self, at the head of those that were charged with the fire, 
 watched the proper minute, on that side of the works where 
 tne wind used to blow directly. When the sun was risen the 
 wind blew violently; and the attack being begun on the other 
 side, he gave the signal to his own party, who poured a vast 
 quantity of fiery darts and other burning matter into the ene- 
 my’s fortifications. As the flame soon caught hold, and was 
 fed by the palisades and other timber, it spread itself into all 
 quarters; and the Latins not being provided with any means 
 of extinguishing it, the camp was almost full of fire, and they 
 were reduced to a small spot of ground. At last they were 
 forced to bear down upon the body who were posted before 
 the camp and ready to receive them sword in hand. Conse¬ 
 quently very few of them escaped; and those that remained 
 in the camp were destroyed by the flames, till the Romans ex¬ 
 tinguished them for the sake of the plunder. 
 
 After this exploit, he left his son Lucius in the camp, to 
 guard the prisoners and the booty, while he himself penetrated 
 into the enemy’s country. There he took the city of the 
 Equi, and reduced the Volsci, and then led his army to Su- 
 irium, whose fate he was not yet apprised of, and which he 
 hoped to relieve by fighting the Tuscans who had sat down 
 before it. But the Sutrians had already surrendered their 
 'own, with the loss of every thing but the clothes they had 
 on; and in this condition he met them by the way, with theii 
 wives and children, bewailing their misfortunes. Camillus 
 was extremely moved at so sad a spectacle; and perceiving 
 that the Romans wept with pity at the affecting entreaties oi 
 
CAMILLUS. 
 
 288 
 
 the Sutrians, he determined not to defer his revenge, but tc 
 march to Sutrium that very day; concluding that men who 
 had just taken an opulent city, where they had not left one 
 enemy, and who expected none from any other quarter, 
 would be found in disorder and off their guard. Nor was he 
 mistaken in his judgment. He not only passed through the 
 country undiscovered, but approached the gates and got pos¬ 
 session of the walls before they were aware. Indeed there 
 was none to guard them; for all were engaged in festivity and 
 dissipation. Nay, even when they perceived that the enemy 
 were masters of the town, they were so overcome by their 
 indulgences, that few endeavoured to escape; they were either 
 slain in their houses, or surrendered themselves to the con 
 querors. Thus the city of Sutrium being twice taken in one 
 day, the new possessors were expelled, and the old ones re¬ 
 stored, by Camillus. 
 
 By the triumph decreed him on this occasion, he gained no 
 less credit and honour than by the two former. For those of 
 the citizens that envied him, and were desirous to attribute 
 his successes rather to fortune than to his valour and conduct, 
 were compelled, by these last actions, to allow his great abili¬ 
 ties and application. Among those that opposed him, and 
 detracted from his merit, the most considerable was Marcus 
 Manlius, who was the first that repulsed the Gauls, when they 
 attempted the Capitol by night, and on that account was sur- 
 named Cnpiiolinus . He was ambitious to be the greatest man 
 in Rome; and as he could not by fair means outstrip Camillus 
 in the race of honour, he took the common road to absolute 
 power, by courting the populace, particularly those that were 
 in debt. Some of the latter he defended, by pleading their 
 causes against their creditors: and others he rescued, forcibly 
 preventing their being dealt with according to law: so that he 
 got a number of indigent persons about him, who became 
 formidable to the patricians by their insolent and riotous be- 
 navlour in the jorum . 
 
 In this exigency they appointed Cornelius Cossus* dictator, 
 who named Titus Quintius Capitolinus his general of horse; 
 and by this supreme magistrate Manlius was committed to 
 prison. On which occasion the people went into mourning; 
 a thing never used but in time of great and public calamities. 
 The senate, therefore, afraid of an insurrection, ordered him 
 to be released. But when set at liberty, instead of altering 
 his conduct, he grew more insolent and troublesome, and filled 
 the whole city with faction and sedition. At that time Camil 
 bis was again created a military tribune, and Manlius taker- 
 
 * Vide Liv . lib. vi. cap 2. 
 
CAMILLUS. 
 
 289 
 
 and brought to his trial. But the sight of the Capitol was a 
 great disadvantage to those that carried on the impeachment. 
 The place where Manlius by night maintained the fight against 
 the Gauls, was seen from the forum; and all that attended were 
 moved with compassion at his stretching out his hands to¬ 
 wards that place, and begging them with tears to remember 
 his achievements. The judges of course were greatly em¬ 
 barrassed, and often adjourned the court, not choosing to ac¬ 
 quit him after such clear proofs of his crime, nor yet able to 
 carry the laws into execution in a place which continually re 
 minded the people of his services. Camillus, sensible of this, 
 removed the tribunal without the gate, into the Peteline 
 Grove, where there was no prospect of the Capitol. There 
 the prosecutor brought his charge; and the remembrance of 
 his former bravery gave way to the sense which his judges 
 had of his present crimes. Manlius, therefore, was condemn¬ 
 ed, carried to the Capitol, and thrown headlong from the rock 
 Thus the same place was the monument both of his glory and 
 his unfortunate end. The Romans, moreover, razed his house, 
 and built there a temple to the goddess Moneta. They decreed 
 likewise, that for the future no patrician should ever dwell ir 
 the Capitol.* 
 
 Camillus, who was now nominated military tribune the 
 sixth time, declined that honour. For, besides that he was 
 of an advanced age, he was apprehensive of the effects ol 
 envy, and of some change of fortune, after so much glory and 
 success. But the excuse he most insisted on in public, was 
 the state of his health, which at that time was infirm. The 
 people, however, refusing to accept of that excuse, cried out, 
 u They did not desire him to fight, either on horseback or on 
 foot; they only wanted his counsel and his orders. Thus they 
 forced him to take the office upon him, and, together with 
 Lucius Furius MedulHnus, one of his colleagues, to march 
 immediately against the enemy.” 
 
 * Lest the advantageous situation of a fortress, that commanded the. 
 whole city, should suggest and facilitate the design of enslaving it. For 
 Manlius was accused of aiming at the sovereign power. His fate may serve, 
 as a warning to all ambitious men who want to rise on the ruins of their 
 country; for he could not escape or find mercy with the people, though he 
 produced above four hundred plebeians, whose debts he had paid; though 
 ne showed thirty suits of armour the spoils of thirty enemies, whom he had 
 slain in single combat; though he had received forty honorary rewards, 
 among which were two mural and eight civic crowns (C. Servilius, when 
 general of the horse, being of the number of citizens whose lives he had 
 saved;) and though he had crowned all with the preservation of the Capi¬ 
 tol. So inconstant, however, is tlie multitude, that Manlius was scarce 
 dead, when his loss was generally lamented, and a plague, which soon fol¬ 
 lowed, ascribed to the anger of Jupiter against the authors of his death. 
 
 V^r.. t.- 2 Q ' 2f>* 
 
290 
 
 CAMILLE'S. 
 
 These were the people of Prseneste and the Volsci, whc 
 with a considerable army were laying waste the country in 
 alliance with Rome. Camillus, therefore, went and encamped 
 over against them, intending to prolong the war, that if there 
 should be any necessity for a battle, he might be sufficiently 
 recovered to do his part. But as his colleague Lucius, too 
 ambitious of glory, was violently and indiscreetly bent uoon 
 lighting, and inspired the other officers with the same ardour, 
 he was afraid it might be thought that through envy he with¬ 
 held from the young officers the opportunity to distinguish 
 themselves. For this reason he agreed, though with great 
 reluctance, that Lucius should draw out the forces, whilst he, 
 on account of his sickness,'* remained with a handful of men 
 in the camp. But when he perceived that Lucius, who en¬ 
 gaged in a rash and precipitate manner, was defeated, and the 
 Romans put to flight, he could not contain himself, but leaped 
 from his bed, and went with his retinue to the gates of the 
 camp. There he forced his way through the fugitives up to 
 the pursuers, and made so good a stand, that those who had 
 fled to the camp soon returned to the charge, and others that 
 were retreating rallied and placed themselves about him, ex¬ 
 porting each other not to forsake their general. Thus the 
 enemy were stopt in the pursuit. Next day he marched out 
 at the head of his army, entirely routed the confederates in a 
 pitched battle, and entering their camp along with them, cut 
 most of them in pieces. 
 
 After this, being informed that Satricum, a Roman colony 
 was taken by the Tuscans, and the inhabitants put to the 
 sword, he sent home the main body of his forces, which con¬ 
 sisted of the heavy-armed, and with a select band of light 
 and spirited young men fell upon the Tuscans that were in 
 possession of the city, some of whom he put to the sword, and 
 the rest were driven out. 
 
 Returning to Rome with great spoils, he gave a signal evi¬ 
 dence of the good sense of the Roman people, who entertained 
 no fears on account of the ill health or age of a general that, 
 was not deficient in courage or experience; but made choice 
 of him, infirm and reluctant as he was, rather than of those 
 young men who wanted and solicited the command. Hence 
 it was, that upon the news of the revolt of the Tusculans, Ca- 
 millus was ordered to march against them, and to take with 
 him only one of his five colleagues. Though they all desired 
 and made interest for the commission, yet, passing the rest 
 by, he pitched upon Lucius Furius, contrary to the general 
 
 * Livy says, he placed himself on an eminence, with a co*ps de reserve, 
 •o observe the success of the battle. 
 
CAMILLUS. 
 
 29] 
 
 expectation; for this was the man who but just before, against 
 the opinion of Camillus, was so eager to engage, and lost the 
 battle. Yet willing, it seems, to draw a veil over his misfor¬ 
 tune, and to wipe off his disgrace, he was generous enough to 
 give him the preference.* 
 
 When the Tusculans perceived that Camillus was coming 
 against them, they attempted to correct their error by artful 
 management. They filled the fields v/i'h husbandmen and 
 shepherds, as in time of profound peace; they left their gates 
 open, and sent their children to school as before. The trades¬ 
 men were found in their chops employed in their respective 
 callings, and the better sort of citizens walking in the public 
 places in their usual dress. Meanwhile the magistrates were 
 busily passing to and fro, tc order quarters for the Romans; 
 as if they expected no danger, and were conscious of no fault. 
 Though these arts could not alter the opinion Camillus had of 
 their revolt, yet their repentance disposed him to compassion 
 He ordered them, therefore, to go to the senate of Rome and 
 beg pardon; and when they appeared there as suppliants, he 
 used his interest to procure their forgiveness, and a grant of 
 the privileges of Roman citizenst besides. These were the 
 principal actions of his sixth tribuneship. 
 
 After this, Licinius Stolo raised a great sedition in the state, 
 putting himself at the head of the people, who insisted that of 
 the two consuls one should be a plebeian. Tribunes of the 
 people were appointed, but the multitude would suffer no 
 election of consuls to be held. J As this want of chief magis- 
 
 * This choice of Camillas hud a different motive from what Plutarch men 
 tions. He knew that Furius, who had felt the ill effects of a precipitate 
 conduct, would be the first mat to avoid such a conduct for the future. 
 
 f He was only a Roman citizen, in the most extensive signification of the 
 words, who had a right of having a house in Rome, of giving his vote in the 
 Comitia, and of standing candidate for any office; and who, consequently, 
 was incorporated into one of the tribes. The freed-men in the times of the 
 republic were excluded from dignities; and of the municipal towns and Ro¬ 
 man colonics, which enjoyed the right of citizenship, some had, and some 
 had not, the right of suffrage, and of promotion to offices in Rome. 
 
 f This confusion lasted five years, during which the tribunes of the peo¬ 
 ple prevented the Ccimtia. from being held, which were necessary for the 
 election of the chief magistrates. It was occasioned by a trifling accident. 
 Fabius Ambustus having married his eldest daughter to Servius Sulpicius, a 
 patrician, and at this time military tribune, and the younger to Licinius Stolo, 
 a lich piebeian, it happened that while the younger sister was paying a visi 
 to the elder, Sulpicius came home from the forum, and his lictors, with the 
 staff of the fasces, thundered at the door. The younger sister being fright¬ 
 ened at the noise, the elder laughed at her, as a person quite ignorant of 
 high life. This affront greatly afflicted her; and her father, to comfort her, 
 bid her not be uneasy, for she should soon see as much state at herownhou«e 
 us had surprised her at her s’.ster’s. 
 
292 
 
 CAMILLUS. 
 
 trate-s was likely to bring on still greater troubles, the senate 
 created Camillus dictator the fourth time, against the consent 
 of the people, and not even agreeable to his own inclination:* 
 for he was unwilling to set himself against those persons, who, 
 having been often led on by him to conquest, could with great 
 truth affirm, that he had more concern with them in the mili¬ 
 tary way, than with the patricians in the civil; and at the same 
 time was sensible that the envy of those very patricians in¬ 
 duced them now to promote him to that high station, that he 
 might oppress the people if he succeeded, or be ruined by them 
 if he failed in his attempt. He attempted, however, to obvi¬ 
 ate the present danger; and as he knew the day on which the 
 tribunes intended to propose their law, he published a general 
 muster, and summoned the people from the forum into the 
 field, threatening to set heavy fines upon those that should not 
 obey. On the other hand, the tribunes of the people opposed 
 him with menaces, solemnly protesting they would fine him 
 fifty thousand drachmas if he did not permit the people to put 
 their bill to the vote. Whether it was that he was afraid of 
 a second condemnation and banishment, which would but ill 
 suit him, now he was growing old and covered with glory, or 
 whether he thought he could not get the better of the people, 
 whose violence'was equal to their power, for the present he 
 retired to his own house, and soon after, under pretence of 
 sickness, resigned the dictatorship^ The senate appointed 
 /another dictator, who, having named for his general of horse 
 that very Stolo, who was leader of the sedition, suffered a law 
 to be made that was extremely disagreeable to the patricians. 
 It provided that no person whatsoever should possess more 
 than five hundred acres of land. Stolo having carried his point 
 with the people, flourished greatly for a while; but not long 
 after being convicted of possessing more than the limited num¬ 
 ber of acres, he suffered the penalties of his own law. J 
 The most difficult part of the dispute, and that which they 
 began with, namely, concerning the election of consuls, re¬ 
 mained still unsettled, and continued to give the senate great 
 uneasiness, when certain information was brought that the 
 Gauls were marching again from the coasts of the Adriatic, 
 with an immense army, towards Rome. With this news came 
 an account of the usual effects of war, the country laid waste, 
 and such of the inhabitants as could not take refuge in Rome 
 
 * The year of Rome 388. 
 
 j- He pretended to find something amiss, in the auspices which were taken 
 when he was appointed. 
 
 t It was eleven years after. Popilius Laenas fined him ten thousand ses¬ 
 terces for being possessed of a thousand acres of land, in conjunction with 
 his son, whom h^ had emancipated for that purpose.— Liv. lib. vii. c. 16. 
 
CAMILLUS. 
 
 293 
 
 dispersed about the mountains. The terror of this put a stop 
 to the sedition; and the most popular of the senators uniting 
 with the people, with one voice created Camillus dictator the 
 fifth time. He was now very old, wanting little of fourscore; 
 yet, seeing the necessity and danger of the times, he was will¬ 
 ing to risk all inconveniences, and, without alleging any ex 
 cuse, immediately took upon him the command, and made the 
 levies. As he knew the chief force of the barbarians lay in 
 their swords, which they managed without art or skill, furi¬ 
 ously 7 rushing in, and aiming chiefly at the head and shoulders, 
 he furnished most of his men with helmets of well-polished 
 iron, that the swords might either break or glance aside; and 
 round the borders of their shields he drew a plate of brass, be 
 cause the wood of itself could not resist the strokes. Beside 
 this, he taught them to avail themselves of long pikes, by 
 pushing with which they might prevent the effect of the ene¬ 
 my’s swords. 
 
 When the Gauls were arrived at the river Anio with their 
 army, encumbered with the vast booty they'had made, Camil¬ 
 lus drew out his forces, and posted them upon a hill of easy 
 ascent, in which were many hollows, sufficient to conceal the 
 greatest part of his men, while those that were in sight should 
 seem, through fear, to have taken advantage of the higher 
 grounds. And the more to fix this opinion in the Gauls, he 
 opposed not the depredations committed in his sight, but re¬ 
 mained quietly in the camp he had fortified, while he had be¬ 
 held part of them dispersed in order to plunder, and part in 
 dulging themselves, day and night, in drinking and revelling. 
 At last, he sent out the light-armed infantry before day, to 
 prevent the enemy’s drawing up in a regular manner, and to 
 harass them by sudden skirmishing as they issued out of their 
 trenches; and as soon as it was light he led down the heavy 
 armed, and put them in battle array upon the plain, neither 
 few in number nor disheartened, as the Gauls expected, but 
 numerous and full of spirits. 
 
 This was the first thing that shook their resolution, for they 
 considered it as a disgrace to have the Romans the aggressors. 
 Then the light-armed, falling upon them before they could 
 get into order, and rank themselves by companies, pressed 
 them so warmly, that they were obliged to come in great con¬ 
 fusion to the engagement. Last of all, Camillus leading on 
 the heavy-armed, the Gauls with brandished swords hastened 
 to fight hand to hand; but the Romans meeting the strokes 
 with their pikes, and receiving them on that part that was 
 guarded with iron, so turned their swords, which were thin 
 and soft tempered, that they were soon bent almost double, 
 ind their shields were pierced and weighed down with the 
 
294 
 
 CAMILLUS. 
 
 pikes that stuck in them. They therefore quitted their own 
 arms, and endeavoured to seize those of the enemy, and tc 
 wrest their pikes from them. The Romans seeing them naked, 
 now began to make use of their swords, and made great car¬ 
 nage among the foremost ranks. Mean time the rest took to 
 flight, and were scattered along the plain; for Camillus had 
 beforehand secured the heights; and, as in confidence of vic¬ 
 tory they had left their camp unfortified, they knew it would 
 be taken with ease. 
 
 This battle is said to have been fought thirteen years aftei 
 the taking of Rome;'* and, in consequerce of this success, the 
 Romans laid aside, for the future, the dismal apprehensions 
 they had entertained of the barbarians. They had imagined, 
 it seems, that the former victory they had gained over the 
 Gauls, was owing to the sickness that prevailed in their army, 
 and to other unforeseen accidents, rather than to their own 
 valour; and so great had their terror been formerly, that they 
 had made a law,— 4 6 That the priests should be exempted from 
 military service, except in case of an invasion from the 
 Gauls.” 
 
 This was the last of Camillus’s martial exploits; for the tak 
 ing of Velitrse was a direct consequence of this victory, and 
 it surrendered without the least resistance. But the greatest 
 conflict he ever experienced in the state still remained; for the 
 people were harder to deal with since they returned victori¬ 
 ous, and they insisted that one of the consuls should be cho¬ 
 sen out of their body, contrary to the present constitution. 
 The senate opposed them, and would not suffer Camillus to 
 resign the dictatorship, thinking they could better defend the 
 rights of the nobility under the sanction of his supreme au¬ 
 thority. But one day, as Camillus was sitting in the forum, 
 and employed in the distribution of justice, an officer, sent by 
 the tribunes of the people, ordered him to follow him, and 
 laid his hand upon him, as if he would seize and carry him 
 away. Upon this, such a noise and tumult was raised in the 
 assembly, as never had been known; those that were about 
 Camillus thrusting the plebeian officer down from the tribunal, 
 and the populace calling out to drag the dictator from his seat. 
 In this case Camillus was much embarrassed; he did not, how¬ 
 ever, resign the dictatorship, but led off the patricians to the 
 senate-house. Before he entered it, he turned towards the 
 Capitol, and prayed to the gods to put a happy end to the 
 present disturbances, solemnly vowing to build a temple to 
 Concord, when the tumult should be over. 
 
 * This battle was fought, not thirteen, b it t venty-three years after the 
 taking of home 
 
CAMILLUS. 
 
 293 
 
 Ill the senate there was a diversity of opinions and great de 
 bates. Mild and popular councils, however, prevailed, which 
 allowed one of the consuls to be a plebeian.* When the dic¬ 
 tator announced this decree to the people, they received it 
 with great satisfaction, as it was natural they should; they 
 were immediately reconciled to the senate, and conducted Ca- 
 millus home with great applause. Next day the people assem¬ 
 bled, and voted that the temple which Camillus had vowed to 
 Concord, should, on account of this great event, be built on 
 a spot that fronted the forum and place of assembly. To those 
 feasts which are called Latin they added one day more, so that 
 the whole was to consist of four days; and for the present they 
 ordained that the whole people of Rome should sacrifice with 
 garlands on their heads. Camillus then held an assembly for 
 the election of consuls, when Marcus iEmilius was chosen out 
 of the nobility, and Lucius Sextius from the commonalty, the 
 first plebeian that ever attained that honour. 
 
 This was the last of Camillus’s transactions. The year fol¬ 
 lowing a pestilence visited Rome, which carried off a prodi¬ 
 gious number of the people, most of the magistrates, and Ca¬ 
 millus himself. His death could not be deemed premature, on 
 account of his great age and the offices he had borne, yet was 
 he more lamented than all the rest of the citizens who died of 
 that distemper. 
 
 * The people having gained this point, the consulate was revived, and the 
 military tribuneship laid aside forever; but at the same time the patricians 
 procured the great privilege, that a new officer, called praetor, should be ap¬ 
 pointed, who was to be always one of their body. The consuls had been 
 generals of the Roman armies, and at the same time judges of civil affairs; 
 but as they were often in the field, it was thought proper to separate the lat¬ 
 ter branch from their office, and appropriate it to a judge with the title of 
 praetor , who was to be next in dignity to the consuls. About the year of 
 Rome 501, another praetor was appointed to decide the differences among 
 foreigners. Upon the taking of Sicily and Sardinia two more praetors were 
 created, and as many more upon the conquest of Spain. 
 
TUB 
 
 LIFE OF PERICLES, 
 
 When Ca?sar happened to see some strangers at Rome car* 
 tying young dogs and monkeys in their arms, and fondly ca¬ 
 ressing them, he asked,—Whether the women in their 
 country never bore any children?’ 5 thus reproving, with a pro¬ 
 per severity, those who lavish upon brutes that natural ten¬ 
 derness 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 whatever it 
 thinks proper. It should, therefore, be employed in the most 
 useful pursuits, not barely in contemplation, but in such con¬ 
 templation as may nourish its faculties; for as that colour is 
 best suited to the eye, which by its beauty and agreeableness 
 at the same time both refreshes and strengthens the sight, so 
 the application of the mind should be directed to those sub 
 jects 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, admi¬ 
 ration does not always lead us to imitate what we admire, but, 
 on the contrary, while we are charmed with the work, we of¬ 
 ten despise the workman. Thus we are pleased with perfumes 
 and purple, while dyers and perfumers appear to us in the 
 light of mean mechanics. 
 
 Antisthenes,* therefore, when he was told that I^menias 
 played excellently upon the flute, answered properly enough, 
 “ Then he is good tor nothing else, otherwise he would not 
 have played so well. 55 Such also was Philip’s saying to his 
 son, when, at a certain entertainment he sang in a very agreea- 
 
 * Antisthenes v/as a disciple of Socrates, and founder of the sect of tlic 
 Cynics. 
 
PERICLES. 
 
 29? 
 
 ble and skilful manner, “Are you not ashamed to sing sc 
 well?” It is enough for a prince to bestow a vacant hour up 
 on hearing others sing; and he does the Muses sufficient ho 
 nour, if he attends the performances of those who excel in 
 their arts. 
 
 If a man applies himself to servile or mechanic employ¬ 
 ments. his industry in those things is a proof of his inatten¬ 
 tion to nobler studies. No young man of noble birth, or li 
 ceral sentiments, from seeing the Jupiter at Pisa, would de 
 sire to be Phidias, or from the sight of the Juno at Argos, to 
 be Polycletus; or Anacreon, or Philemon, or Archilochus, 
 though delighted with their poems;* for though a work may 
 be agreeable, yet esteem of the author is not the necessary con¬ 
 sequence. \\ e 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 goodness 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 liv¬ 
 ing example, but even in an historical description. 
 
 For this reason, we chose to proceed in writing the lives of 
 great men, and have composed this tenth book, which contains, 
 the life of Pericles, and that of Fabius Maximus, who carried 
 on the war against Hannibal; men who resembled each other 
 in many virtues, particularly in justice and moderation, and 
 who effectually served their respective commonwealths, by 
 patiently enduring the injuries and capricious treatment they re¬ 
 ceived from their colleagues and their countrymen. Whether 
 we are right in our judgment or not, will be easy to see in the 
 work itself. 
 
 Pericles was of the tribe of Acamantis, and of the ward of 
 Cholargia. His family was one of the most considerable in 
 Athens, both by the father and mother’s side. His father 
 Xanthippus, who defeated the king of Persia’s generals at 
 Mycale, married Agariste, the niece of Clisthenes, who ex 
 
 * This seems to be somewhat inconsistent with that respect and esteem 
 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 al¬ 
 ways obtain among the people. But there was still a kind of jealousy be¬ 
 tween 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. 
 
 Vol. I.- 9 R 27 
 
298 
 
 vehicles. 
 
 pelled the family of Pisistratus, abolished the tyranny, enact¬ 
 ed laws, and established a form of government, tempered ir» 
 such a manner as tended to unanimity among the people, and 
 the safety of the state. She dreamed that she was delivered 
 of a lion, and a few days after brought forth Pericles. His 
 person in other respects was well turned, but his head was dis- 
 proportionably long. For this reason almost all his statues 
 have the head covered with a helmet, the statuaries choosing, 
 I suppose, to hide that defect. But the Athenian poets call 
 him Schinocephalus, or onion-head , for the word schinos is some¬ 
 times used instead of scilla, a sea-onion. Cratinus, the comic 
 writer, in his play called Chirones , has this passage:— 
 
 Faction received old Time to her embraces; 
 
 Hence came a tyrant-spawn, on earth called Pericles, 
 
 In heaven the head-compeller. 
 
 And again, in his Nemesis , he thus addresses him;— 
 
 Come, blessed Jove,* the high and mighty head. 
 
 The friend of hospitality! 
 
 And Teleclides says,— 
 
 Now, in a maze of thought, he ruminates 
 On strange expedients, while his head , depressed 
 With its own weight, sinks on his knees; and now 
 From the vast caverns of his brain burst forth 
 Storms and fierce thunders. 
 
 And Eupolis, in his Demi, asking news of all the great orators, 
 whom he represented as ascending from the shades below 
 when Pericles comes up at last, cries out,— 
 
 Head of the tribes that haunt those spacious realms. 
 
 Does he ascend ? 
 
 Most writers agree, that the master who taught him music 
 was called Damon, the first syllable of whose name, they tell 
 us, is to be pronounced short; but Aristotle informs us, that 
 he learned that art of Pythoclides. As for Damon, he seems 
 to have been a politician, who under the pretence of teaching 
 music, concealed his great abilities from the vulgar; and be 
 
 * Pericles (as Plutarch afterwards observes) was called Olympius , or Ju¬ 
 piter. The poet here addresses him under that character with the epithet 
 of picuLdLpi, which signifies blessed, but may also signify great-headed. In our 
 language we have no word with such a double meaning. Just above, he ia 
 called Cephalegereies, head-comp eller (as if his head was an assemblage of 
 many heads), instead of Nephelegerctes, cloud-compeller, a common epithet 
 af Jupiter. 
 
PERICLES. 
 
 299 
 
 attended Pericles a.s his tutor and assistant in politics, in tne 
 same manner as a master of the gymnastic art attends a young 
 man to lit him for the ring. However, Damon’s giving les¬ 
 sons upon the harp was discovered to be a mere pretext, and, 
 as a busy politician, and friend to tyranny, he was banished 
 by the ostracism. Nor was he spared by the comic poets. One 
 of them named Plato, introduces a person addressing him 
 thus;— 
 
 Inform me, Damon, first, does fame say true. 
 
 And wast thou really Pericles’s Chiron?* 
 
 Pericles also attended the lectures of Zeno of Elea,t who, m 
 natural philosophy, was a follower of Parmenides, and who, 
 by much practice in the art of disputing, had learned to con¬ 
 found and silence all his opponents, as Timon the Phlasian 
 declares in these verses:— 
 
 Have not you heard of Zeno’s mighty powers. 
 
 Who could change sides, yet changing triumph’d still 
 In the tongue’s wars ? 
 
 But the philosopher with whom he was most intimately ac • 
 quainted, who gave him that force and sublimity of sentiment 
 superior to all the demagogues, who, in short, formed him to 
 that admirable dignity of manners, was Anaxagoras the Clazo- 
 menian. This was he whom the people of those times called 
 nous , or intelligence , either in admiration of his great under¬ 
 standing and knowledge of the works of nature, or because 
 he was the first who clearly proved that the universe owed its 
 formation neither to chance nor necessity, but to a pure and 
 unmixed mind , who separated the homogeneous parts from the 
 other with which they were confounded. 
 
 Charmed with the company of this philosopher, and instruct¬ 
 ed by him in the sublimest sciences, Pericles acquired not only 
 elevation of sentiment, and a loftiness and purity of style, 
 
 * The word Chiron, again, is ambiguous, and may either signify, wast thou 
 preceptor to Pericles? or, wast thou more wicked than Pericles? 
 
 f This Zeno was of Elea, a town of Italy, and a Phocian colony, and must 
 be carefully distinguished from Zeno, the founder of the sect of the Stoics. 
 The Zeno here spoken of was respectable for attempting to rid his country 
 of a tyrant. The tyrant took him, and caused him to be pounded to death 
 in a mortar. But his death accomplished what he could not effect in his 
 lifetime; for his fellow citizens w^ere so much incensed at the dreadful man¬ 
 ner of it, that they fell upon the tyrant and stoned him. As to his arguments, 
 and those of his master Parmenides, pretended to be so invincible, one of 
 them was to prove there can be no such thing as motion, since a thing can 
 neither move in the place w here it is, nor in the place w here it is not. But 
 this sophism is easily refuted; for motion is the passing of n thing or person 
 irJo a new part of space. 
 
PERICLES. 
 
 300 
 
 far removed from the low expression of the vulgar, but like¬ 
 wise a gravity of countenance which relaxed not into laughter, 
 a firm and even tone of voice, an easy deportment, and a de¬ 
 cency of dress, which no vehemence of speaking ever put into 
 disorder. These things, and others of the like nature, excited 
 admiration in all that saw him 
 
 Such was his i onduct, when a vile and abandoned fellow 
 loaded him a whole day with reproaches and abuse, he bore 
 it with patience and silence, and continued in public for the 
 
 3 1 atch of some urgent affairs. In the evening he walked 
 y home, this impudent wretch following, and insulting 
 him all the way with the most scurrilous language; and as it 
 was dark when he came to his own doGr, he ordered one of 
 his servants to take a torch and light the man home. The poet 
 Ion, however, says he was proud and supercilious in conver¬ 
 sation, and that there was a great deal of vanity and contempt 
 of others mixed with his dignity of manner; on the other 
 hand, he highly extols the civility, complaisance, and polite¬ 
 ness of Cimon. But to take no farther notice of Ion, who, 
 perhaps, would not have any great excellence appear without 
 a mixture of something satirical, as it was in the ancient tra¬ 
 gedy;* Zeno desired those that called the gravity of Pericles 
 pride and arrogance, to be proud the same way; telling them, 
 the very acting of an excellent part might insensibly produce 
 a love and real imitation of it. 
 
 These were not the only advantages which Pericles gained 
 by conversing with Anaxagoras. From him he learned to 
 overcome those terrors which the various phenomena of the 
 heavens raise in those who know not their causes, and who 
 entertain a tormenting fear of the gods by reason of that igno¬ 
 rance. Nor is there any cure for it but the study of nature, 
 which, instead of the frightful extravagances of superstition, 
 implants in us a sober piety, supported by a rational hope. 
 
 We are told, there was brought to Pericles, from one of his 
 farms, a ram’s head with only one horn; and Lampo the sooth¬ 
 sayer, observing that the horn grew strong and firm out of the 
 middle of the forehead, declared, that the two parties in the 
 state, namely, those of Thucydides and Pericles, would unite, 
 
 * Tragedy at first was only a chorus in honour of Bacchus. Persons dress 
 cd like satyrs were the performers, and they often broke out into the most 
 licentious raillery. Afterwards, when tragedy took a graver turn, something 
 of the former drollery was still retained, as in that which we call tragi-come- 
 clv. In time, serious characters and events became the subject of tragedy, 
 without that mixture; but even then, after exhibiting three or four serious 
 tragedies, the poets used to conclude their contention for the prize with a 
 satirical one. Of this sort is the Cycle ps of Euripides, and the only one re¬ 
 maining. 
 
PERICLES. 
 
 301 
 
 and invest the whole power in him with wnom the prodigy 
 was found: but Anaxagoras having dissected the head, showed 
 that the brain did not till the whole cavity, but had contracted 
 itself into an oval form, and pointed directly to that part of 
 the skull whence the horn took its rise. This produced Anaxa 
 goras great honour with,the spectators; and Lampo was no 
 less honoured for his prediction, when soon after, upon the 
 fall of Thucydides the administration was put entirely into 
 the hands of Pericles. 
 
 But, in my opinion, the philosopher and the diviner may 
 well enough be reconciled, and both be right; the one disco¬ 
 vering the cause, and the other the end. It was the business 
 of the former to account for the appearance, and to consider 
 how it came about; and of the latter to show why it was so 
 formed, and what it portended.—Those who say, that when 
 the cause is found out, the prodigy ceases, do rot consider, 
 that if they reject such signs as are preternatural, they must 
 also deny that artificial signs are of any use; the clattering of 
 brass quoits,* the light of beacons, and the shadow of a sun¬ 
 dial, have all of them their proper natural causes, and yet 
 each has another signification. But, perhaps, this question 
 might be more properly discussed in another place. 
 
 Pericles, in his youth, stood in great fear of the people; for 
 in his countenance he was like Pisistratus the tyrant; and he 
 
 E erceived the old men were much struck with a farther resem- 
 lance in the sw r eetness of his voice, the volubility of his 
 tongue and the roundness of his periods. As he was more¬ 
 over of a noble family and opulent. fortune, and his friends 
 were the most considerable men in the state, he dreaded the 
 ban of ostracism, and, therefore, intermeddled not with state 
 affairs, but behaved with great courage and intrepidity in the 
 field. However, when Aristides was dead, Themistocles ba¬ 
 nished, and Cimon much employed in expeditions at a dis¬ 
 tance from Greece, Pericles engaged in the administration. 
 He chose rather to solicit the favour of the multitude and the 
 poor,t than of the rich and the few, contrary to his natural 
 
 * The clattering 1 of brass quoits, or plates, was sometimes a military signal 
 among the Grecians. Among the Romans it was a signal to call the wrest¬ 
 lers to the ring. 
 
 f The popular party in Athens were continually making efforts against 
 those small remains of power which were yet in the hands of the nobility. 
 As Pericles could not lead the party of the nobles, because Cimon, by the dig¬ 
 nity of his birth, the lustre of his actions, and the largeness of his estate, had 
 placed himself at their head, he had no other resource than to court the po¬ 
 pulace. And he flattered their favourite passion in the most agreeable man¬ 
 ner by lessening the power and privileges of the court of Areopagus, which 
 was the chief support of the nobility, and, indeed, of the whole state. Thus 
 the bringing of almost all causes before the tribunal of the people, the mul* 
 
302 
 
 PERICLES. 
 
 disposition, whhli was far from inclining him to court popu¬ 
 larity. 
 
 It seems he was apprehensive of falling under the suspicion 
 of aiming at the supreme power, and was sensible, besides, 
 that Cimon was attached to the nobility, and extremely belov¬ 
 ed by persons of the highest eminence; and, therefore, in or¬ 
 der to secure himself, and to find resources against the power 
 of Cimon, he studied to ingratiate himself with the common 
 people. At the same time, he entirely changed his manner 
 of living. He appeared not in the streets, except when he 
 went to the forum or the senate-house. He declined the in¬ 
 vitations of his friends, and all social entertainments and re¬ 
 creations; insomuch, that in the whole time of his adminis¬ 
 tration, which was a considerable length, he never went to sup 
 with any of his friends, but once, which was at the marriage 
 of his nephew Euryptolemus, and he staid there only until 
 the ceremony of libation was ended. He considered, that the 
 freedom of entertainments takes away all distinction of office, 
 and that dignity is but little consistent with familiarity. Real 
 and solid virtue, indeed, the more it is seen, the more glori¬ 
 ous it appears; and there is nothing in a good man’s conduct, 
 as a magistrate, so great in the eye of the public, as is the gen¬ 
 eral course of his behaviour in private to his most intimate 
 friends. Pericles, however, took care not to make his person 
 cheap among the people, and appeared among them only at 
 proper intervals; nor did he speak to all points that were de¬ 
 bated before them, but reserved himself, like the Salaminian 
 galley* (as Critolaiis says), for greater occasions, despatching 
 business of less consequence by other orators with whom he 
 had an intimacy. One of these we are told, was Ephialtes, 
 who, according to Plato, overthrew the power of the council 
 of Areopagus, by giving the citizens a large and intemperate 
 draught of liberty. On which account, the comic writers 
 speak of the people of Athens, as of a horse wild and unman- 
 aged,— 
 
 -which listens to the reigns no more, 
 
 But in his maddening course bears headlong down 
 
 The very friends that feed him.f 
 
 tiplying of gratuities, which was only another word for bribes, and the giv¬ 
 ing the people a taste for expensive pleasures, caused the downfall of the 
 Athenian commonwealth; though the personal abilities of Pericles support¬ 
 ed it during his time. 
 
 * The Salaminian galley was a consecrated vessel, which the Athenians 
 never made use of, but on extraordinary occasions. They sent it, for in¬ 
 stance, for a general whom they wanted to call to account, or with sacrifices 
 to Apollo or some other deity. 
 
 •j- The former English translator takes no manner of notice of <fouosir tv 
 'Z vQoia.v kcu roue vnaoie rrmiSctv, bites Euboea, and insults the islands , though the 
 
PERICLES. 
 
 303 
 
 Pericles, desirous to make his language a proper vehicle for 
 his sublime sentiments, and to speak in a manner that became 
 the dignity of his life, availed himself greatly of what he had 
 learned of Anaxagoras, adorning his eloquence with the rich 
 colours of philosophy; for, adding (as the divine Plato ex¬ 
 presses it) the loftiness of imagination, and all commanding 
 energy, with which philosophy supplied him, to his native 
 powers of genius, and making use of whatever he found to his 
 
 K ose, in the study of nature, to dignify the art of speaking, 
 r excelled all other orators.* Hence he is said to have 
 gained the surname of Olympias; though some will have it to 
 have been from the edifices with which he adorned the city; 
 and others, from his high authority both in peace and war. 
 There appears, indeed, no absurdity in supposing, that all 
 these things might contribute to that glorious distinction. Yet 
 the strokes of satire, both serious and ludicrous, in the come 
 dies of those times, indicate, that this title was given him 
 chiefly on account of his eloquence; for they tell us, that 
 in his harangues, he thundered and lightened, and that his 
 tongue was armed with thunder. Thucydides, the son of Mi- 
 lesius, is said to have given a pleasant account of the force of 
 his eloquence. Thucydides was a great and respectable man, 
 who, for a long time, opposed the measures of Pericles; and 
 when Archidamus, one of the kings of Lacedaemon, asked 
 him,.—“ Which was the best wrestler, Pericles, or he?” he 
 answered, “ When I throw him, he says he was never down, 
 and he persuades the very spectators to believe so.” 
 
 Yet such was the solicitude of Pericles, when he had to 
 speak in public, that he always first addressed a prayer to the 
 gods,t—“ That not a word might unawares escape him un¬ 
 suitable to the occasion ” He left nothing in writing, but 
 some public decrees; and only a few of his sayings are record¬ 
 ed. He used to say (for instance) that “the isle of iEgina 
 should not be suffered to remain an eye-sore to the Piraeus;’ 
 and that,—“he saw a war approaching from Peloponnesus.” 
 And when Sophocles, who went in joint command with him 
 upon an expedition at sea, happened to praise the beauty of a 
 certain boy, he said,—“A general, my friend, should not 
 
 passage is pregnant with sense. Athens, in the wantonness of power, in 
 suited Euboea, which was her granary, and the iEgian islands, which con 
 tributed greatly to her commerce and her wealth. 
 
 * Plato observes, on the same occasion, that an orator, as well as a physi 
 cian, ought to have a general knowledge of nature. 
 
 f Quintilian says, he prayed, that not a word might escape him disagreea 
 ble to the people. And this is the more probable account of the matter 
 because (according to Suidas) Pericles wrote down his orations, before he 
 pronounced them in publ ; c; and, indeed, was the first who did so. 
 
304 
 
 PERICLES. 
 
 only have pure hands, but pure e) r es.” Stesimbrotus pro¬ 
 duces this passage from the oration which Pericles pronounced 
 in memory of those Athenians who fell in the Samian war,--- 
 “They are become immortal, like the gods; for the gods 
 themselves are not visible to us; but from the honours they 
 receive, and the happiness they enjoy, we conclude they are 
 immortal- and such should those brave men be who die for 
 their country.*' 
 
 Thucydides represents the administration of Pericles as fa¬ 
 vouring aristocracy, and tells us, that, though the government 
 was called democratical, it was really in the hands of one who 
 had engrossed the whole authority.—Many other writers like¬ 
 wise inform us, that by him the people were first indulged 
 with a division of lands, were treated at the public expense 
 with theatrical diversions, and were paid for the most com¬ 
 mon services to the state. As this new indulgence from the 
 government was an impolitic custom, which rendered the peo- 
 
 f )le expensive and luxurious, and destroyed that frugality and 
 ove of labour which supported them before, it is proper that 
 we should trace the effect to its cause, by a retrospect into the 
 circumstances of the republic. 
 
 At first, as we have observed, to raise himself to some sort 
 of equality with Cimon, who was then at the height of glory, 
 Pericles made his court to the people. And as Cimon was 
 his superior in point of fortune, which he employed in reliev 
 ing the poor Athenians, in providing victuals every day for 
 the necessitous, and clothing the aged, and, besides this, level¬ 
 ed his fences with the ground, that all might be at liberty tc 
 gather his fruit, Pericles had recourse to the expedient of di¬ 
 viding the public treasure; which scheme, as Aristotle informs 
 us, was proposed to him by Demonides of Ios. * Accordingly, 
 by supplying the people with money for the public diversions, 
 and for their attendance in courts of judicature;! and by othei 
 pensions and gratuities, he so inveigled them as to avail him¬ 
 self of their interest against the council of the Areopagus, of 
 which he had no right to be a member, having never had the 
 fortune to be chosen Archon, Thesmothetes, king of the Sa¬ 
 cred Rights, or Polemarch. For persons were of old appoint ¬ 
 ed to these offices by lot; and such as had discharged them 
 
 * Ios was one of the isles called Sporades, in the JEg*ean sea, and celebra. 
 ted for the tomb of Homer. But some learned men are of opinion, that 
 instead of Jadw, we should read O/vSsy, and that Demonides was not of the 
 island of Ios, but of Oia, which was a boroug'h in Attica. 
 
 j- There were several courts of judicature in Athens, composed of a cer¬ 
 tain number of the citizens; who sometimes received one obolus each fot 
 every cause they tried: and sometimes men who aimed at popularity, pm 
 cured this fee to be increased. 
 
PERICLES. 
 
 305 
 
 well, and such only, were admitted as judges in the Areopa¬ 
 gus. Pericles, therefore, by his popularity, raised a party 
 against that council, and, by means of Ephialtes, to ah from 
 them the cognizance of many causes that had been under their 
 jurisdiction. He likewise caused Cimon to be banished by the 
 ostracism , as an enemy to the people,* and a friend to the La¬ 
 cedaemonians; a man who in birth and fortune had no superior, 
 who had gained very glorious victories over the barbarians, 
 and filled the city with money and other spoils, as we have 
 related in his life. Such was the authority of Pericles with 
 the common people. 
 
 The term of Cimon’s banishment, as it was by ostracism % 
 was limited by law to ten years. Mean time the Lacedacmo 
 nians, with a great army, entered the territory of Tanagra, 
 and the Athenians immediately marching out against them, 
 Cimon returned, and placed himself in the ranks with those of 
 his tribe, intending by his deeds to wipe off the aspersion of 
 favouring the Lacedaemonians, and to venture his life with his 
 countrymen; but by a combination of the friends of Pericles, 
 he was repulsed as an exile. This seems to have been the 
 cause that Pericles exerted himself in a particular manner in 
 that battle, and exposed his person to the greatest dangers. 
 All Cimon’s friends, whom Pericles had accused as accom¬ 
 plices in his pretended crime, fell honourably that day toge¬ 
 ther; and the Athenians, who were defeated upon their own 
 borders, and expected a still sharper conflict in the summer, 
 grievously repented of their treatment of Cimon, and longed 
 tor his return. Pericles, sensible of the people’s inclinations, 
 did not hesitate to gratify them, but himself proposed a decree 
 for recalling Cimon; and, at his return, a peace was agreed 
 upon through his mediation; for the Lacedaemonians had a 
 particular regard for him, as well as aversion for Pericles, and 
 the other demagogues. But some authors write, that Pericles 
 did not procure an order for Cimon’s return, till they had en¬ 
 tered into a private compact, by means of Cimon’s sister El- 
 piniee, that Cimon should have the command abroad, and with 
 two hundred galleys lay waste the king of Persia’s dominions, 
 and Pericles have the direction of affairs at home. A story 
 goes, that Elpinice, before this, had softened the resentmenl 
 of Pericles against Cimon, and procured her brother a milder 
 
 * His treason against the state was pretended to consist in receiving pro 
 sents or other gratifications from the Macedonians, whereby lie was prevail 
 ed on to let slip the opportunity he had to enlarge the Athenian conquests, 
 after he had taken the gold mines of Thro.ce.—Cimon answered, that he had 
 prosecuted the war to the utmost of his power against the Thracians anc 
 their other enemies; but that he had made no inroads into Macedonia, be¬ 
 cause he did not conceive, that he was to act as a public enemy to mankind 
 
 VOL. T -2 S 
 
306 
 
 PERICLES. 
 
 sentence than that of death. Pencles was one of those ap¬ 
 pointed by the people to manage the impeachment; and when 
 Eloinice addressed him as a suppliant, he smiled, and said,— 
 “ ^ou are old, Elpinice; much too old to solicit in so weighty 
 affair. ” However., he rose up but once to speak, barely to 
 acquit himself of his trust, and did not bear so hard upon 
 Cimon as the rest of his accusers.* Who then can give credit 
 to Idomeneus, when he says that Pericles caused the orator 
 Ephialtes, his friend and assistant in the administration, to be 
 assassinated through jealousy and envy of his great character? 
 1 know not where he met with this calumny, which he vents 
 with great bitterness against a man, not indeed in all respect? 
 irreproachable, but who certainly had such a greatness of 
 mind, and high sense of honour, as was incompatible with an 
 action so savage and inhuman. The truth of the matter, ac¬ 
 cording to Aristotle, is, that Ephialtes being grown formida¬ 
 ble to the nobles, on account of his inflexible severity in prose¬ 
 cuting all that invaded the rights of the people, his enemies 
 caused him to be taken off in a private and treacherous man¬ 
 ner, by Aristodicus of Tanagra. 
 
 About the same time died Cimon, in the expedition to Cy¬ 
 prus. And the nobility perceiving that Pericles was now ar¬ 
 rived at a height of authority which set him far above the other 
 citizens, were desirous of having some person to oppose him, 
 who might be capable of g iving a check to his power, and of 
 preventing his making himself absolute. For this purpose they 
 set up Thucydides of the ward of Alopece, a man of great pru¬ 
 dence, and brother-in-law to Cimon. He had not, indeed, 
 Cimon’s talents for w T ar, hut was superior to him in forensic 
 and political abilities; and, by residing constantly in Athens, 
 and opposing Pericles in th«: general assembly, he soon brought 
 the government to an equilibrium. For he did not suffer per¬ 
 sons of superior rank to be dispersed and confounded with the 
 rest of the people, because in that case, their dignity was ob¬ 
 scured and lost; but collected them into a separate body, by 
 which means their authority was enhanced, and sufficient 
 weight thrown into their scale. There w T as, indeed, from the 
 beginning, a kind of doubtful separation, which, like the flaws 
 in a piece of iron, indicated that the aristocratical party, and 
 that of the commonalty. were not perfectly one, though they 
 were not actually divided; but the ambition of Pericles and 
 Thucydides, and the contest between them, had so extraordi¬ 
 nary an effect upon the city, that it was quite broken in two, 
 and one of the parts w T as called the people , and the other the no 
 
 * Yet Civaonwas fined fifty talents, or £968 7 10s. sterling*, and narrow!) 
 es. aped a capital senter.ee, having* only a majority of three votes to prevent 4 
 
PERICI.ES. 
 
 307 
 
 bility. For this reason, Pericles, more than ever, gave the 
 people the reins, and endeavoured to ingratiate himself with 
 them, contriving to have always some show, or play, or feast 
 or procession in the city, and to amuse it with the politest 
 pleasures. 
 
 As another means of employing their attention, he sent out 
 sixty gallevs every year manned for eight months,'* with a 
 considerable number of the citizens, who were both paid for 
 their service, and improved themselves as mariners. He like¬ 
 wise sent a colony of a thousand men to the Chersonesus, five 
 hundred to Naxos, two hundred and fifty to Andros, a thou¬ 
 sand into the country of the Bisaltae in Thrace, and others 
 into Italy, who settled in Sybaris, and changed its name to 
 Thurii. These things he did to clear the city of an useless 
 multitude, who were very troublesome when they had nothing 
 to do; to make provision for the most necessitous; and to keep 
 the allies of Athens in awe, by placing colonies like so many 
 garrisons in their neighbourhood. 
 
 That which was the chief delight of the Athenians, and the 
 wonder of strangers, and which alone serves for a proof that 
 the boasted power and opulence of ancient Greece is not an 
 idle tale, was the magnificence of the temples and public edi¬ 
 fices. Yet no part of the conduct of Pericles moved the spleen 
 of his enemies more than this. In their accusations of him to 
 the people, they insisted,—“ That he had brought the greatest 
 disgrace upon the Athenians, by removing the public treasures 
 of Greece from Delos, and taking them into his own custody. 
 That he had not left himself even the specious apology of 
 having caused the money to be brought to Athens for its 
 greater security, and to keep it from being seized by the bar¬ 
 barians: That Greece must needs consider it as the highest 
 insult, and an act of open tyranny, when she saw the money 
 she had been obliged to contribute towards the war, lavished 
 by the Athenians in gilding their city, and ornamenting it 
 with statues and temples that cost a thousand talents,! as a 
 proud and vain woman decks herself out with jewels.” Peri¬ 
 cles answered this charge by observing ,— 6k That they were 
 not obliged to give the allies any account of the sums they had 
 received, since they had kept the barbarians at a distance, and 
 effectually defended the allies, who had not furnished either 
 horses, ships, or men, but only contributed money, which is 
 no longer the property of the giver, but of the receiver, if he 
 
 * Some, instead of /u.»vctg, read ^yac; and, according* to this reading*, the 
 
 passage must be translated, manned with - the citizens , whose pay ruts 
 
 eight mmacy and who at the same time improved , &c. 
 
 j-The Parthenon, or temple of Mil erva, is said to have c.«sl a thousand 
 talents. 
 
308 
 
 PERICLES. 
 
 performs the conditions on which it is received: That as the 
 state was provided with all the necessaries of war, its superflu¬ 
 ous wealth should be laid out on such works as, when executes, 
 would be eternal monuments of its glory, and which, during 
 their execution, would diffuse an universal plenty; for as so 
 many kinds of labour, and such a variety of instruments ana 
 materials, were requisite to these undertakings, every art 
 would be exerted, every hand employed, almost the whole 
 city would be in pay, and be at the same time both adorned 
 and supported by itself.” Indeed, such as were of a proper 
 age and strength were wanted for the wars, and well rewarded 
 for their services; and as for the mechanics and meaner sort of 
 people, they went not without their share of the public mo 
 ney, nor yet had they it to support them in idleness. By the 
 constructing of great edifices, which required many arts" and 
 a long time to finish them, they had equal pretensions to be 
 considered out of the treasury (though they stirred not out of 
 the city) with the mariners and soldiers, guards and garrisons 
 For the different materials, such as stone, brass, ivory, gold, 
 ebony, and cypress, furnished employment to carpenters, 
 masons, brasiers, goldsmiths, painters, turners, and other ar¬ 
 tificers; the conveyance of them by sea employed merchants 
 and sailors, and by land wheel-wrights, wagoners, carriers, 
 ropemakers, leather-cutters, paviers, and iron-founders; and 
 every art had a number of the lower people ranged in proper 
 subordination to execute it, like soldiers under the command 
 of a general. Thus, by the exercise of these different trades, 
 plenty was diffused among persons of every rank and condi¬ 
 tion. Thus works were raised of an astonishing magnitude, 
 and inimitable beauty and perfection, every architect striving 
 to surpass the magnificence of the design with the elegance 
 of the execution; yet still the most wonderful circumstance 
 was the expedition with which they were completed. Many 
 edifices, each of which seems to have required the labour of 
 several successive ages, were finished during the administra¬ 
 tion of one prosperous man. 
 
 It is said, that when Agatharcus the painter valued himself 
 upon the celerity and ease with which he despatched his 
 pieces, Zeuxis replied,—“If I boast, it shall be of the slow¬ 
 ness with which I finish mine.” For ease and speed in the 
 execution seldom give a work any lasting importance, or ex¬ 
 quisite beauty; while, on the other hand, the time which is 
 expended in labour is recovered and repaid in the duration of 
 the perfoimance. Hence we have the more reason to wondef 
 that the structures raised by Pericles should be built in so short 
 a time, and yet built for ages; for as each of them, as soon as 
 finished, had the venerable air of antiquity, so, now thev are 
 
PERICLES. 
 
 309 
 
 old, they have the freshness of a modern building. A bloom 
 »s diffused over them, which preserves their aspect untarnish¬ 
 ed by time, as if they were animated with a spirit of perpetual 
 youth and unfading elegance. 
 
 Phidias was appointed by Pericles superintendent of all the 
 public edifices, though the Athenians had then other eminen 4 
 Architects, and excellent workmen. The Parthenon , or temple 
 of Pallas, whose dimensions had been a hundred feet square,* 
 was rebuilt by Callicrates and Ictinus. Coroebus began the 
 lemple of Initiation at Eleusis, but only lived to finish the 
 lower rank of columns with their architraves. Metagenes, of 
 4 he ward of Xypete, added the rest of the entablature, and the 
 upper row of columns; and Xenocles of Cholargus built the 
 dome on the top. The long wall, the building of which So¬ 
 crates says he heard Pericles propose to the people, was un¬ 
 dertaken by Callicrates. Cratinus ridicule tins work as pro¬ 
 ceeding very slowly: 
 
 Stones upon stones the orator has pil’d 
 
 With swelling* words, but words will build no walls. 
 
 The Odeum , or music theatre, which was likewise built by 
 the direction of Pericles, had within it many rows of seats and 
 of pillars; the roof was of a conic figure, after the model (we 
 are told) of the king of Persia’s pavilion. Cratinus, therefore, 
 rallies him again in his play called Thrattx; 
 
 As Jove, an onion on his head he wears; 
 
 As Pericles, a whole orchestra bears: 
 
 Afraid of broils and banishment no more, 
 
 He tunes the shell he trembled at before! 
 
 Pericles at this time exerted all his interest to have a decree 
 made, appointing a prize for the best performer in music, 
 during the Panatkenxa; and as he was himself appointed judge 
 and distributer of the prizes, he gave the contending artists 
 directions in what manner to proceed, whether their perform¬ 
 ance was vocal, or on the lute or lyre From that time the 
 prizes in music were always contended for in the Odeum. 
 
 The vestibule of the citadel was finished in five years by 
 Mnesicles the architect. A wonderful event that happened 
 while the work was in hand, showed that the goddess was not 
 averse to the work, but rather took it into her protection, and 
 encouraged them to complete it. One of the best and most 
 active of the workmen missing his step, fell from the top to the 
 
 * It was called Uecatompedon , because it had been originally a hundred 
 feet square; one having been burnt by the Persians, it was rebuilt by Pen 
 cles and retained that name after it was greatly enlarged. 
 
 28 
 
310 
 
 PERICLES. 
 
 bottom, and was bruised in such a manner that his life was de¬ 
 spaired of by the physicians. Pericles was greatly concerned 
 at this accident; but in the midst of his affliction, the goddess 
 appeared to him in a dream, and informed him of a remedy, 
 which he applied, and thereby soon recovered the patient. In 
 memory of this cure, he placed in the citadel, near the altar 
 (which is said to have been there before), a brazen statue of 
 the Minerva of health . The golden statue of the same goddess* 
 was the workmanship of Phidias, and his name is inscribed 
 upon the pedestal (as we have already observed). Through 
 the friendship of Pericles, he had the direction of every thing, 
 and all the artists received his orders. For this the one was 
 envied and the other slandered; and it was intimated that 
 Phidias received into his house ladies for Pericles, who came 
 thither under pretence of seeing his works. The comic poets 
 getting hold of this story, represented him as a perfect liber¬ 
 tine. They accused him of an intrigue with the wife of Menip- 
 pus, his friend, and lieutenant in the army; and because P^ri- 
 lampes, another intimate acquaintance of his, had a collection 
 of curious birds, and particularly of peacocks, it was suppos¬ 
 ed that he kept them only for presents for those women who 
 granted favours to Pericles. But what wonder is it if men of 
 a satirical turn daily sacrifice the characters of the great to that 
 malevolent demon, the envy of the multitude, when Stesim- 
 brotus of Thasos has dared to lodge against Pericles that hor¬ 
 rid and groundless accusation of corrupting his son’s wife? So 
 difficult is it to come at the truth in the walk of history, since, 
 if the writers live after the events they relate, they can be but 
 imperfectly informed of facts; and if they describe the persons 
 and transactions of their own times, they are tempted by envy 
 and hatred, or by interest and friendship, to vitiate and per¬ 
 vert the truth. 
 
 The orators of Thucydides’s party raised a clamour against 
 Pericles, asserting that he wasted the public treasure, and 
 brought the revenue to nothing. Pericles, in his defence, ask¬ 
 ed the people in full assembly,—“Whether they thought he 
 had expended too much?” Upon their answering in the af¬ 
 firmative,—“Thenbe it,” said he, “charged to my account,1 
 
 * This statue was of gold and ivory. Pausanias has given us a description 
 of it. The goddess was represented standing, clothed in a tunic that reach¬ 
 ed down to the foot. On her aegis, or breast-plate, was Medusa’s head in 
 ivory, and victory. She held a spear in her hand; and at her feet lay a buck 
 ler, and a dragon, supposed to be Erichthonius. The sphynx was repre 
 sented on the middle of her helmet, with a griffin on each side. This statue 
 was thirty-nine feet high; the victory on the breast-plate was about four cu 
 bits, and forty talents of gold were employed upon it. 
 
 f It appears, from a oassage in Thucydides, that the public stock of the 
 Athenians amounted to line thousand seven hundred talents for one million 
 
PERICLES. 
 
 511 
 
 not yours, only let the new edifices be inscribed with my name, 
 not that of the people of Athens.” Whether it was that they 
 admired the greatness of his spirit, or were ambitious to share 
 the glory of such magnificent works, they cried out ,—“ That 
 he might spend as much as he pleased of the public treasure, 
 without sparing it in the least.” 
 
 At last the contest came on between him and Thucydides 
 which of them should be banished by the ostracism; Pericles 
 gained the victory, banished his adversary, and entirely de¬ 
 feated his party. The opposition now being at an end, and 
 unanimity taking place amongst all ranks of people, Pericles 
 became sole master of Athens and its dependencies. The 
 revenues, the army and navy, the islands and the sea, a most 
 extensive territory, peopled by barbarians as well as Greeks, 
 fortified with the obedience of subject nations, the friendship 
 of kings, and alliance of princes, were all at his command. 
 
 From this time he became a different man; he was no longer 
 so obsequious to the humour of the populace, which is as wild 
 and as changeable as the winds. The multitude were not in¬ 
 dulged or courted; the government, in fact, was not popular; 
 its loose and luxuriant harmony was confined to stricter mea¬ 
 sures, and it assumed an aristocratical, or rather monarchical 
 form. He kept the public good in his eye, and pursued the 
 straight path of honour; for the most part gently leading them 
 by argument to a sense of what was right, and sometimes for¬ 
 cing them to comply with what was for their own advantage; 
 in this respect imitating a good physician, who, in the various 
 symptoms of a long disease, sometimes administers medicines 
 tolerably agreeable, and at other times sharp and strong ones, 
 when such alone are capable of restoring the patient. He was 
 the man that had the art of controlling those many disorderly 
 passions which necessarily spring up amongst a people possess 
 ed of so extensive a dominion. The two engines he worked 
 with were hope and fear; with these, repressing their violence 
 when they were too impetuous, and supporting their spirits 
 when inclined to languor, he made it appear that “ rhetoric is 
 (as Plato defined it) the art of ruling the minds of men,” and 
 that its principal province consists in moving the passions and 
 
 eight hundred and seventy five thousand nine hundred and fifty pounds 
 sterling,) of which Pericles had laid out in those public buildings three thou¬ 
 sand seven hundred talents. It is natural, therefore, to ask, how he could 
 tell the people that it should be at his own expense, especially since Plu¬ 
 tarch tells us in the sequel, that he had not in the least improved the estate 
 left him by his father! To which the true answer probably is, that Pericles 
 was politician enough to know that the vanity of the Athenians would never 
 them agree that he should inscribe the new magnificent buildings with 
 name, in exclusion of theirs; or he might venture to say any thing, beinr* 
 ^ cine of a majority of votes to be given as he pleased. 
 
312 
 
 PERICLES 
 
 affections oi the soul, which, like so many strings in a musical 
 irstrument, require the touch of a masterly and delicate hand. 
 .Nor were the powers of eloquence alone sufficient, but (as 
 Thucydides observes) the orator was a man of probity and un¬ 
 blemished reputation. Money could not bribe him; he was 
 so much above the desire of it, that though he added greatly to 
 the opulence of the state, which he found not inconsiderable, 
 and though his power exceeded that of many kings and tyrants, 
 some of whom have bequeathed to their posterity the sove¬ 
 reignty they had obtained, yet he added not one drachma to 
 his paternal estate. 
 
 Thucydides, indeed, gives this candid account of the powci 
 and authority of Pericles; but the comic writers abuse him in 
 a most malignant manner, giving his friends the name of the 
 new Pisistralidas , and calling upon him to swear that he would, 
 never attempt to make himself absolute, since his authority 
 was already much too great and overbearing in a free state. 
 Teloclides says, the Athenians had given up to him 
 
 The tribute of the states, the states themselves, 
 
 To bind, to loose, to build, and to destroy; 
 
 In peace, in war, to govern; nay, to rule 
 
 Their very fate, like some superior being. 
 
 And this not only for a time, or during the prime and flowei 
 of a short administration, but for forty years together he held 
 the pre-eminence, amidst such men as Ephialtes, Leocrates, 
 Myronides, Cimon, Tolmides, and Thucydides, and continu¬ 
 ed it no less that fifteen years after the fall and banishment of 
 the latter. The power of the magistrates, which to them was 
 but annual, all centred in him, yet still he kept himself un¬ 
 tainted by avarice. Not that he was inattentive to his finances, 
 but on the contrary, neither negligent of his paternal estate, 
 nor yet willing to have much trouble with it: as he had not 
 much time to spare, he brought the management of it into such 
 a method as was very easy, at the same time that it was exact: 
 for he used to turn a whole year’s produce into money alto¬ 
 gether, and with this he bought, from day to day, all manner 
 of necessaries at the market. This way of living was not 
 agreeable to his sons when grown up, and the allowance he 
 made the women, did not appear to them a generous one. 
 They complained of a pittance daily measured out with scru¬ 
 pulous economy, which admitted of none of those superfluities 
 so common in great houses and wealthy families, and could not 
 bear to think of the expenses being so nicely adjusted to the 
 income. 
 
 The person who managed these concerns with so much ex 
 a» cness was a servant of his, named Evangelus, either remark* 
 
PERICLES. 
 
 313 
 
 oly fitted for the purpose by nature, or formed to it by Pei i- 
 cles. Anaxagoras, indeed, considered these lower attentions 
 as inconsistent with his wisdom: following the dictates of en¬ 
 thusiasm, and wrapt up in sublime inquiries, he quitted his 
 house, and left his lands untilled and desolate. But, in my 
 opinion, there is an essential difference between a speculative 
 and a practical philosopher. The former advances his ideas 
 into the regions of science without the assistance of any thing 
 corporeal or external; the latter endeavours to apply his great, 
 qualities to the use of mankind, and riches afford him not only 
 necessary but excellent assistance. Thus it was with Pericles, 
 who by his wealth was enabled to relieve numbers of the pool 
 citizens. Nay, for want of such prudential regards, this very 
 Anaxagoras, we are told, lay neglected and unprovided for, 
 insomuch that the poor old man had covered up his head, and 
 was going to starve himself.* But an account of it being 
 brought to Pericles, he was extremely moved at it, ran imme 
 diately to him, expostulated, entreated, bewailing not so much 
 the fate of his friend as his own, if his administration should 
 lose so valuable a counsellor. Anaxagoras, uncovering his 
 face, replied,— u Ah, Pericles! those that have need of a lamp 
 take care to supply it with oil.” 
 
 By this time the Lacedaemonians began to express some 
 jealousy of the Athenian greatness, and Pericles, willing to 
 advance it still higher, and to make the people more sensible 
 af their importance, and more inclinable to great attempts, pro¬ 
 cured an order, that all the Greeks, wheresoever they resided, 
 whether in Europe or in Asia, whether their cities were small 
 or great, should send deputies to Athens to consult about re¬ 
 building the Grecian temples which the barbarians had burnt, 
 and about providing those sacrifices which had been vow^ed 
 during the Persian war, for the preservation of Greece; and 
 likewise to enter into such measures as might secure naviga¬ 
 tion and maintain the peace. 
 
 Accordingly, twenty persons, each upwards of fifty years 
 of age, were sent with this proposal to the different states of 
 Greece. Five went to the Ionians and Dorians in Asia, and 
 the islanders as far as Lesbos and Rhodes; five to the cities 
 aoout the Hellespont and in Thrace, as far as Byzantium; five 
 to the inhabitants of Boeotia, Phocis, and Peloponnesus, and 
 from thence, by Locri along the adjoining continent to Acar- 
 nati a and Ambracia. The rest were despatched through 
 
 * It was customary among’ the ancients for a person who was determined 
 to put an end to his life to cover up his head; whether he devoted himself tc 
 death for the service of his country, or being weary of his being, bade the 
 svorld adieu. 
 
 Vol. I.-2T 2<S* 
 
314 
 
 PERICLES. 
 
 Euboea to the Greeks that dwelt upon mount Oetra and near 
 the Maliac bay, to the Phthio.tae, the Acheans,* * * § and Thessa¬ 
 lians, inviting them to join in the council and new confede¬ 
 racy for the preservation of the peace of Greece.! It took 
 not effect, however, nor did the cities send their deputies; the 
 reason of which is said to be the opposition of the Lacedaemo¬ 
 nians,! for the proposal was first rejected in Peloponnesus. 
 But I was willing to give account of it as a specimen of the 
 greatness of the orator’s spirit, and of his disposition to form 
 magnificent designs. 
 
 His chief merit in war was the safety of his measures. He 
 never willingly engaged in any uncertain or very dangerous 
 expedition, nor had any ambition to imitate those generals 
 who are admired as great men, because their rash enterprises 
 have been attended with success; he always told the Athe¬ 
 nians,—“That as far as their fate depended upon him, they 
 should be immortal.” Perceiving that Tolmides, the son of 
 Tolmaeus, in confidence of his.former success and military re¬ 
 putation, was preparing to invade Boeotia at an unseasonable 
 time, and that, over and above the regular troops, he had per¬ 
 suaded the bravest and most spirited of the Athenian youth, 
 to the number of a thousand, to go volunteers in that expedi¬ 
 tion, he addressed him in public, and tried to divert him from 
 it, making use, among the rest, of those well-known words,— 
 “ If you regard not the opinion of Pericles, yet wait at least, 
 for the advice of time, who is the best of all counsellors.” 
 This saying, for the present, gained no great applause; but 
 when a few days after, news was brought that Tolmides was 
 defeated and killed at Coronea,§ together with many of the 
 bravest citizens, it procured Pericles great respect and love 
 from the people, who considered it as a proof, not only of his 
 sagacity, but of his affection for his countrymen. 
 
 Of his military expeditions, that to the Chersonesus pro 
 cured him most honour, because it proved very salutary to the 
 Greeks who dwelt there; for he not only strengthened their 
 
 * Bv Acheeans we are sometimes to understand the Greeks in general, 
 especially in the writings of the poets, and sometimes the inhabitants of a 
 particular district in Peloponnesus; but neither of these can be the mean¬ 
 ing in this place. We must here understand a people of Thessaly, called 
 Achaeans. Vide Stcph. Byz. in voce 
 
 f Katv:7r£ctyia. 
 
 ± It is no wonderthat the Lacedemonians opposed this undertaking, since 
 the giving way to it would have been acknowledging the Athenians as mis* 
 ters of all Greece. Indeed, the Athenians should not have attempted it 
 without an order or decree of the Amphictyons. 
 
 § This defeat happened in the second year of the eight} r -third Olympiad, 
 four hundred and forty-five years before the Christian era, and more than 
 enty years before the death of Pericles. 
 
PERICLES. 
 
 31 £ 
 
 cities with the addition of a thousand able-bodied Athenians, 
 but iaised fortifications across the isthmus from sea to sea; 
 thus guarding against the incursions of the Thracians who 
 were spread about the Chersonesus, and putting an end to 
 those long and grievous wars under which that district had 
 smarted by reason of the neighbourhood of the barbarians, as 
 well as to the robberies with which it had been infested by 
 persons who lived upon the borders, or were inhabitants of 
 the country. But the expedition most celebrated among stran 
 gers, was that by sea around Peloponnesus. He set sail from 
 Pegae, in the territories of Megara, with a hundred ships of 
 war, and not only ravaged the maritime cities, as Tolmides 
 had done before him, but landed his forces, and penetrated a 
 good way up the country. The terror of his arms drove the 
 inhabitants into their walled towns, all but the Sicyonians, 
 who made head against him at Nimea, and were defeated in a 
 pitched battle, in memory of which victory he erected a tro¬ 
 phy. From Achaia, a confederate state, he took a number of 
 men into his galleys and sailed to the opposite side of the 
 continent; then passing by the mouth of the Acheloiis, he 
 made a descent in Acarnania, shut up the (Eneadae with their 
 walls, and having laid waste the country, returned home. In 
 the whole course of this affair, he appeared terrible to his ene¬ 
 mies, and to his countrymen an active and prudent comman¬ 
 der; for no miscarriage was committed, nor did even any un¬ 
 fortunate accident happen during the whole time. 
 
 Having sailed to Pontus with a large and well equipped 
 fleet, he procured the Grecian cities there all the advantages 
 they desired, and treated them with great regard. To the 
 barbarous nations that surrounded them, and to their kings and 
 princes, he made the power of Athens very respectable, by 
 showing with what security her fleets could sail, and that she 
 was in effect mistress of the seas. He left the people of Si¬ 
 nope thirteen ships under the command of Lamachus, and a 
 body of men to act against Timesileos, their tyrant. And 
 when the tyrant and his party were driven out, he caused a 
 decree to be made, that a colony of six hundred Athenian vo¬ 
 lunteers should be placed in Sinope, and put in possession of 
 those houses and lands which had belonged to the tyrants 
 
 He did not, however, give way to the wild desires of the 
 citizens, nor would he indulge them, when, elated with their 
 strength and good fortune, they talked of recovering Egypt,* 
 
 * For tTie Athenians had been masters of Egypt, as we rind in the second 
 book of Thucydides. They were driven out of it by Megabyzus, Artax- 
 erxe, r s lieutenant, in the first year of the eightieth Olympiad, and it was 
 only m the last year of the eighty-first Olympiad that Pericles made that 
 
316 
 
 PERICLES. 
 
 and of attempting the coast of Persia. Many were likewise 
 at this time possessed with the unfortunate passion for Sicily, 
 which the orators of Alcibiades’s party afterwards inflamed 
 still more. Nay, even some dreamed of Hetruria* and Car 
 thage, and not without some ground of hope, as they imagin¬ 
 ed, because of the great extent of their dominions and the 
 successful course of their affairs. 
 
 But Pericles restrained this impetuosity of the citizens, ana 
 curbed their extravagant desire of conquest; employing the 
 greatest part of their forces in strengthening and securing their 
 present acquisitions, and considering it as a matter of conse¬ 
 quence to keep the Lacedaemonians within bounds; whom he 
 therefore opposed, as on other occasions, so particularly in the 
 Sacred War. For when the Lacedaemonians, by dint of arms, 
 had restored the temple to the citizens of Delphi, which had 
 been seized by the Phocians, Pericles, immediately after the 
 departure of the Lacedaemonians, marched thither, and put it 
 into the hands of the Phocians again. And as the Lacedae 
 monians had engraved on the forehead of the brazen wolf the 
 privilege which the people of Delphi had granted them of 
 consulting the oracle first,t Pericles caused the same privi¬ 
 lege for the Athenians to be inscribed on the wolf’s right side. 
 
 The event showed that he was right in confining the Athe¬ 
 nian forces to act within the bounds of Greece; for, in the first 
 place, the Euboeans revolted, and he led an army against them. 
 Soon after, news was brought that Megara had commenced 
 hostilities, and that the Lacedaemonian forces, under the com¬ 
 mand of king Plistonax, were upon the borders of Attica. 
 The enemy offered him battle; he did not choose, however, 
 to risk an engagement with so numerous and resolute an 
 army. But as Plistonax was very young, and chiefly directed 
 by Cleandrides, a counsellor whom the Ephori had appointe 1 
 him on account of his tender age, he attempted to bribe that 
 counsellor, and succeeding in it to his wish, persuaded him to 
 draw off the Peloponnesians from Attica. The soldiers dis¬ 
 persing and retiring to their respective homes, the Lacedaemo- 
 
 successful expedition about Peloponnesus; therefore, it is not strange thas 
 the Athenians, now in the height of prosperity, talked of recovering their 
 footing in a country which they had so lately lost. 
 
 * Hetruria seems oddly joined with Carthage; but we may consider that 
 Hetruria was on one side of Sicily, and Carthage on the other. The Athe¬ 
 nians, therefore, after they had devoured Sicily in their thoughts, might 
 think of extending their conquests to the countries on the right and left; in 
 the same manner as king Pyrrhus indulged his wild ambition to subdue 
 Sicily, Italy, and Africa. 
 
 f This wolf is said to have been consecrated and placed by the side of the 
 great altar, on occasion of a wolf’s killing a thief who had robbed the tern 
 pie, and leading the Delphians to the place where tne treasure lay. 
 
PERICLES. 
 
 317 
 
 nians were so highly incensed, that they laid a heavy fine 
 upon the king; and, as he was not able to pay it, he withdrew 
 from Lacedaemon. As for Cleandrides, who fled from justice, 
 -they condemned him to death. He was the father of Gylip- 
 pus, who defeated the Athenians in Sicily, and who seemed 
 to have derived the vice of avarice from him as an hereditary 
 distemper. He was led by it into bad practices, for which 
 he was banished with ignominy from Sparta, as we have re¬ 
 lated in the life of Lysander. 
 
 In the accounts for this campaign, Pericles put down ten 
 talents laid out for a necessary use , and the people allowed it, 
 without examining the matter closely, or prying into the 
 secret. According to some writers, and among the rest The¬ 
 ophrastus the philosopher, Pericles sent ten talents every 
 year to Sparta, with which he gained all the magistracy, and 
 kept them from acts of hostility; not that he purchased peace 
 with the money, but only gained time that he might have lei¬ 
 sure to make preparations to carry on the war afterwards with 
 advantage. 
 
 Immediately after the retreat of the Lacedaemonians, he 
 turned his arms against the revolters, and passing over into 
 Euboea with fifty ships and five thousand men, he reduced the 
 cities. He expelled the Hlppobotas , persons distinguished by 
 their opulence and authority among the Chalcidians; and hav¬ 
 ing exterminated all the Hestiaeans, he gave their city to a 
 colony of Athenians. The cause of this severity was their 
 having taken an Athenian ship, and murdered the whole 
 crew. 
 
 Soon after this, the Athenians and Lacedaemonians having 
 agreed upon a truce for thirty years, Pericles caused a decree 
 to be made for an expedition against Samos. The pretence 
 he made use of was, that the Samians, when commanded to 
 put an end to the war with the Milesians, had refused it. 
 But as he seems to have entered upon this war merely to gra¬ 
 tify Aspasia, it may not be amiss to inquire by what art or 
 power she captivated the greatest statesmen, and brought even 
 philosophers to speak of her so much to her advantage. 
 
 It is agreed that she was by birth a Milesian,* and the 
 daughter of Axiochus. She is reported to have trod in the 
 steps of Thargelia,t who was descended from the ancient lo- 
 nians, and to have reserved her intimacies for the great. This 
 
 * Miletum, a city in Ionia, was famous for producing- persons of extraor¬ 
 dinary abilities. 
 
 -j-Tliis Tharg-elia, by tier beauty, obtained the sovereignty of Thessaly* 
 However, she came to an untimely end; for she was murdered by one of 
 her lovers 
 
318 
 
 PERICLES. 
 
 Thargelia, who, to the charms of her person, added a peculiar 
 politeness and poignant wit, had many lovers among fhe 
 Greeks, and drew over to the king of Persia’s interest all that 
 approached her; by whose means, as they were persons of emi¬ 
 nence and authority, she sowed the seeds of the Median fac¬ 
 tion among the Grecian states. 
 
 Some indeed say, that Pericles made his court to Aspasia 
 only on account of her wisdom and political abilities. Nay, 
 3ven Socrates himself sometimes visited her along with his 
 friends; and her acquaintance took their wives with them to 
 hear her discourse, though the business that supported her 
 was neither honourable nor decent, for she kept a number of 
 courtesans in her house. iEschines informs us, that Lysicles, 
 who was a grazier,* and of a mean, ungenerous disposition, 
 by his intercourse with Aspasia, after the death of Pericles, 
 became the most considerable man in Athens. And though 
 Plato’s Menexenus in the beginning is rather humorous than 
 serious, yet this much of history we may gather from it, that 
 many Athenians resorted to her on account of her skill in the 
 art of speaking.t 
 
 I should not, however, think, that the attachment of Peri¬ 
 cles was of so very delicate a kind: for though his wife, who 
 was his relation, and had been first married to Hipponicus, by 
 whom she had Callias the rich, brought him two sons, Xanthip- 
 pus and Paralus, yet they lived so ill together, that they part 
 ed by consent. She was married to another, and he took 
 Aspasia, for whom he had the tenderest regard; insomuch, 
 that he never went out upon business, or returned, without 
 saluting her. In the comedies, she is called the New Omphale , 
 Deianira , and Juno . Cratinus plainly calls her a prostitute:— 
 
 -She bore this Juno , this Aspasia , 
 
 Skill’d in the shameless trade and every art 
 Of wantonness. 
 
 He seems also to have had a natural son by her; for he is 
 introduced by Eupolis inquiring after him thus:— 
 
 * What the employments were to which this Lysicles was advanced, is 
 nowhere recorded. 
 
 j- It is not to be imagined, that Aspasia excelled in light and amorous dis. 
 courses. Her discourses, on the contrary, were not more brilliant than solid. 
 It was even believed by the most intelligent Athenians, and amongst them 
 by Socrates himself, that she composed the celebrated funeral oration pro¬ 
 nounced by Pericles, in honour of those that w*ere slain in the Samian war. 
 It is probable enough that Pericles undertook that war to avenge the quar¬ 
 rel of the Milesians, at the suggestion of Aspasia, who was of Miletum, wha 
 is said to have accompanied him in that expedition, and to have built a tern- 
 p 1 ^ to perpetuate the memory of his victory. 
 
PERICLES. 
 
 319 
 
 -Still lives the offspring of my dalliance? 
 
 Py roubles answers:— 
 
 He lives 5 and might have borne the name of husband'. 
 
 Did he not dream that every bosom fair 
 Is not a chaste one 
 
 Such was the fame of Aspasia, that Cyrus, who contended 
 with Artaxerxes for the Persian crown, gave the name of As¬ 
 pasia to his favourite concubine, who, before, was called Milto. 
 This woman was born in Phocis , and was the daughter of Her- 
 motimus. When Cyrus was slain in the battle, she was car¬ 
 ried to the king, and had afterwards great influence over him. 
 These particulars occurring to my memory, as I wrote this 
 life, I thought it would be a needless affectation of gravity, if 
 not an offence against politeness, to pass them over in silence. 
 
 I now return to the Samian war, which Pericles is much 
 blamed for having promoted, in favour of the Milesians, at 
 the instigation of Aspasia. The Milesians and Samians had 
 been at war for the city of Priene, and the Samians had the 
 advantage, when the Athenians interposed, and ordered them 
 to lay down their arms, and refer the decision of the dispute 
 to them; but the Samians refused to comply with this demand. 
 Pericles, therefore, sailed with a fleet to Samos, and'abolish¬ 
 ed the oligarchical form of government. He then took fifty of 
 the principal men, and the same number of children, as hos¬ 
 tages, and sent them to Lemnos. Each of these hostages, we 
 are told, offered him a talent for his ransom; and those that 
 were desirous to prevent the settling of a democracy among 
 them, would have given him much more.* Pissuthnes the 
 Persian, who had the interest of the Samians at heart, like¬ 
 wise sent him ten thousand pieces of gold, to prevail upon 
 him to grant them more favourable terms. Pericles, how¬ 
 ever, would receive none of their presents, but treated the 
 Samians in the manner he had resolved on; and having estab¬ 
 lished a popular government in the island, he returned to 
 Athens. 
 
 But they soon revolted again, having recovered their hos¬ 
 tages by some private measure of Pissuthnes, and made new 
 preparations for war. Pericles coming with a fleet to reduce 
 them once more, found them not in a posture of negligence or 
 despair, but determined to contend with him for the dominion 
 of the sea. A sharp engagement ensued near the isle of Tra- 
 
 * Pissuthnes, the son of Hystaspes, was governor of Sardis, and espoused 
 the cause of the Samians of course, because the principal persons among 
 hem were in the Persian interest. 
 
320 
 
 PEIliwLES. 
 
 gia, and Pericles gained a glorious victory, having with fortv- 
 tour ships defeated seventy, twenty of which had soldiers on 
 board. 
 
 Pursuing his victory, he possessed himself of the harbour 
 of Samos, and laid siege to the city. They still retained cou¬ 
 rage enough to sally out and give him battle before the walls. 
 Soon after a greater fleet came from Athens, and the Samians 
 were entirely shut up; whereupon Pericles took sixty galleys, 
 and steered for the Mediterranean, with a design, as is gene¬ 
 rally supposed, to meet the Phoenician fleet that was coming to 
 the relief of Samos, and to engage with it at a great distance 
 from the island. 
 
 Stesimbrotus indeed says, he intended to sail for Cyprus, 
 which is very improbable. But whatever his design was, he 
 seems to have committed an error; for as soon as he was gone, 
 Melissus, the son of Ithagenes, a man distinguished as a phi¬ 
 losopher, and at that time commander of the Samians, despis¬ 
 ing either the small number of ships that was left, or else the 
 inexperience of their officers, persuaded his countrymen to at¬ 
 tack the Athenians. Accordingly a battle was fought, and the 
 Samians obtained the victory; for they made many prisoners, 
 destroyed the greatest part of the enemy’s fleet, cleared the 
 seas, and imported whatever warlike stores and provisions 
 they wanted. Aristotle writes, that Pericles himself had 
 been beaten by the same Melissus in a former sea-fight. 
 
 The Samians returned upon the Athenian prisoners the in 
 suit they had received,* marked their foreheads with the 
 figure of an owl, as the Athenians had branded them with a 
 Samsena , which is a kind of ship, built low in the fore-part, 
 and wide and hollow in the sides. This form makes it light 
 and expeditious in sailing; and it was called Samsena from its 
 being invented in Samos by Polycrates the tyrant. Aristo¬ 
 phanes is supposed to have hinted at these marks, when he 
 says,— 
 
 The Samians are a letter’d race. 
 
 As soon as Pericles was informed of the misfortune that had 
 befallen his army, he immediately returned with succours,! 
 gave Melissus battle, routed the enemy, and blocked up the 
 town, by building a wall about it; choosing to owe the con¬ 
 quest of it rather to time and expense, than to purchase it with 
 the blood of his fellow-citizens. But when he found the Athe- 
 
 * We have no account of these reciprocal barbarities in Thucydides. 
 
 + On his return, he received a reinforcement of fourscore ships, as Thucy. 
 dides tells us, or ninety, according* to Diodorus. Vide Thiecyd. lib. i. de I3eil 
 Felopon.; et Diodor. Sicul. lib. xii. 
 
PERICLES. 
 
 321 
 
 mans murmured at the time spent in the block ide, and that it 
 was difficult to restrain them from the assault, he divided the 
 army into eight parts, and ordered them to draw lots. That 
 division which drew a white bean, were to enjoy themselves 
 in ease and pleasure, while the others fought. Hence it is 
 said, that those who spend the day in feasting and merriment, 
 call that a white day , from the white bean . 
 
 Ephorus adds, that Pericles, in this siege, made use of bat¬ 
 tering engines, the invention of which he much admired, it 
 being then a new one; and that he had Artemon , the engineer, 
 along with him, who, on account of his lameness was carried 
 about in a litter, when his presence was required to direct the 
 machines, and thence had the surname of Periphoretus . But 
 Heraclides of Pontus confutes this assertion, by some verses 
 of Anacreon, in which mention is made of Artemon Peripho¬ 
 retus, several ages before the Samian war, and these transac¬ 
 tions of Pericles. And he tells us, this Artemon was a per¬ 
 son who ^ave himself up to luxury, and was withal of a timid 
 and effeminate spirit; and that he spent most of his time within 
 doors, and had a shield of brass held over his head, by a couple 
 of slaves, lest something should fall upon him. Moreover, 
 that if he happened to be necessarily obliged to go abroad, 
 he was carried in a litter, which hung so low, as almost to 
 touch the ground, and therefore, was called Periphoretus . 
 
 After nine months, the Samians surrendered. Pericles razed 
 their walls, seized their ships, and laid a heavy fine upon 
 them; part of which they paid down directly, the rest they 
 promised at a set time, and gave hostages for the payment. 
 Duris the Samian, makes a melancholy tale of it, accusing 
 Pericles, and the Athenians, of great cruelty, of which no 
 mention is made by Thucydides, Ephorus, or Aristotle. What 
 he relates concerning the Samian officers and seamen, seems 
 quite fictitious; he tells us, that Pericles caused them to be 
 brought into the market-place at Miletus, and to be bound to 
 posts there for ten days together; at the end of which he or¬ 
 dered them, by that time in the most wretched condition to 
 be despatched with clubs, and refused their bodies the honour 
 of burial. Duris, indeed, in his histories, often goes beyond 
 the limits of truth, even when not misled by any interest or 
 passion, and, therefore, is more likely to have exaggerated the 
 sufferings of his country, to make the Athenians appear in an 
 odious light. * 
 
 Pericles, at his return to Athens, after the reduction of Sa¬ 
 mos, celebrated, in a splendid manner, the obsequies of h’s 
 
 * Yet Cicero tells us, this Duris was a careful historian, Homo in historid . 
 This historian lived in the time of Ptolemy Philadelphus. 
 
 Vol. i -2 U 20 
 
322 
 
 PERICLES. 
 
 countrymen who fell in that war, and pronounced himself the 
 funeral oration, usual on such occasions.—This gained him 
 great applause; and when he came down from the rostrum, 
 the women paid their respects to him, and presented him with 
 crowns and chaplets, like a champion just returned victorious 
 from the lists. Only Elpinice addressed him in terms quite 
 different — 66 Are these actions, then, Pericles, worthy of 
 crowns and garlands, which have deprived us of many biave 
 citizens; not in a war with the Phoenicians and Medes, such 
 as my brother Cimon waged, but in destroying a city united 
 to us, both in blood and friendship?’* Pericles only smiled, 
 and answered softly with this line of Archilochus:— 
 
 Why lavish ointments on a head that’s gray? 
 
 Ion informs us, that he was highly elated with this conquest, 
 and scrupled not to say,—“ That Agamemnon spent ten years 
 in reducing one of the cities of the barbarians, whereas he had 
 taken the richest and most powerful city among the Ionians 
 in nine months.** And, indeed, he had reason to be proud 
 of this achievement; for the war was really a dangerous one, 
 .and the event uncertain, since, according to Thucydides, such 
 was the power of the Samians, that the Athenians were in 
 imminent danger of losing the dominion of the sea. 
 
 Some time after tiffs, when the Peloponnesian war was rea 
 dy to break out, Pericles persuaded the people to send suc¬ 
 cours to the inhabitants of Corcyra, who were at war with the 
 Corinthians;* which would be a means to fix in their interest 
 an island, whose naval forces were considerable, anyl might 
 be of great service, in case of a rupture with the Peloponne¬ 
 sians, which they had all the reason in the world to expect 
 would be soon. The succours were decreed accordingly, and 
 Pericles sent Lacedsemonius to the son of Cimon with ten 
 ships only, as if he designed nothing more than to disgrace 
 him.t A mutual regard and friendship subsisted between 
 Cimon*s family and the Spartans: and he now furnished his 
 son with but a few ships, and gave him the charge of this af¬ 
 fair against his inclination, in order that, if nothing great or 
 striking were effected, Lacedsemonius might be still the more 
 suspected of favouring the Spartans. Nay, by all imaginable 
 methods, he endeavoured to hinder the advancement of that 
 
 * This war was commenced about the little territory of Epidamnus, a city 
 in Macedonia, founded by the Corcyrians. 
 
 f There seems to be very little colour foi this hard assertion. Thucy¬ 
 dides says, that the Athenians did not intend the Corcyrians any real assist¬ 
 ance, but sent this small squadron to look on, while the Corinthians and 
 Core} lians weakened and wasted each other. 
 
PEKICJ.ES. 
 
 323 
 
 family, representing the sons of Cimon, as by their very 
 names, not genuine Athenians, but strangers and aliens, one 
 of them being called Lacedaemonius, another Thessalus, and 
 a third Eleus. They seem to have been all the sons of an 
 Arcadian woman. Pericles, however, finding himself greatly 
 blamed about these ten galleys, an aid by no means sufficient 
 to answer the purpose of those that requested it, but likely 
 enough to afford his enemies a pretence to accuse him, sent 
 another squadron to Corcyra* which did not arrive till the ac¬ 
 tion was over. 
 
 The Corinthians, offended at this treatment, complained of 
 it at Lacedaemon, and the Megarensians, at the same time, al¬ 
 leged, that the Athenians would not suffer them to come to 
 any mart or port of theirs, but drove them out, thereby in¬ 
 fringing the common privileges, and breaking the oath they 
 had taken before the general assembly of Greece. The peo¬ 
 ple of iEgina, too, privately acquainted the Lacedaemonians 
 with many encroachments and injuries done them by the Athe¬ 
 nians, whom they durst not accuse openly. And at this very 
 juncture, Potidaea, a Corinthian colony, but subject to the 
 Athenians, being besieged, in consequence of its revolt, has¬ 
 tened on the war. 
 
 However, as ambassadors were sent to Athens, and as Ar- 
 chidamus, king of the Lacedaemonians, endeavoured to give a 
 healing turn to most of the articles in question, and to pacify 
 the allies, probably no other point would have involved the 
 Athenians in war, if they could have been persuaded to re¬ 
 scind the decree against the Megarensians, and to be recon¬ 
 ciled to them. Pericles, therefore, in exerting all his interest 
 to oppose this measure, in retaining his enmity to the Mega¬ 
 rensians, and working up the people to the same rancour, was 
 the sole author of the war. 
 
 It is said, that when the ambassadors from Lacedaemon 
 came upon this occasion to Athens,! Pericles pretended there 
 
 * But this fleet, which consisted of twenty ships, prevented a second en 
 gagement, for which they were preparing. 
 
 f The Lacedaemonian ambassadors demanded, in the first place, the ex 
 pulsion of those Athenians who were styled execrable, on account of the old 
 business of Cylon and his associates, because, by his mother’s side, Pericles 
 was allied to the family of Megacles; they next insisted, that the siege of 
 Potidaea should be raised; thirdly, that the inhabitants of iEgina should be 
 left free; and, lastly, that the decree made against the Megarensians, where¬ 
 by they were forbid the ports and markets of Athens, on pain of death, 
 should be revoked, and the Grecian states set at liberty, who were under 
 the dominion of Athens. 
 
 Pericles represented to the Athenians, that whatever the Lacedaemonians 
 might pretend, the true ground of their resentment was the prosperity of 
 the Athenian republic; that, nevertheless, it might be proposed, that flu 
 
324 
 
 PERICLES. 
 
 was a law which forbade the taking down any tablet on which «i 
 decree of the people was written:—“Then,” said Polycares, 
 one of th 3 ambassadors, “do not take it down, but turn the 
 other side outward; there is no law against that.” Notwith¬ 
 standing the pleasantry of this answer, Pericles relented not 
 in the least. He seems, indeed, to have had some private 
 pique against the Megarensians, though the pretext he availed 
 himself of in public was, that they had applied to profane uses 
 certain parcels of sacred ground; and thereupon he procured 
 a decree for a herald to be sent to Megara and Lacedaemon, to 
 lay this charge against the Megarensians. This decree was 
 drawn up in a candid and conciliating manner. But Anthe- 
 mocritus, the herald sent with that commission, losing his life 
 by the way, through some treachery (as was supposed) of the 
 Megarensians, Charinus procured a decree that an implacable 
 and eternal enmity should subsist between the Athenians and 
 them; that if any Megarensian should set foot upon Attic 
 ground, he should be put to death; that to tne oath which t'neir 
 generals used to take, this particular should be added, that the}' 
 would twice a-year make an inroad into the territories of Me¬ 
 gara; and that Anthemocritus should be buried at the Thria- 
 sian gate, now called Vipylus. 
 
 The Megarensians, however, deny their being concerned 
 in the murder of Anthemocritus,* and lay the war entirely at 
 the door of Aspasia and Pericles; alleging in proof those well 
 known verses from the Acharnenses of Aristophanes:— 
 
 The god of wine had with his thyrsus smote 
 
 Some youths, who, in their madness, stole from Megara 
 
 The prostitute Simxtha; in revenge. 
 
 Two females, liberal of their smiles, were stolen 
 From our Aspasia?s train. 
 
 It is not, indeed, easy to discover what was the real origin of 
 the war; but at the same time all agree, it was the fault of Pe¬ 
 ricles, that the decree against Megara w’as not annulled. Some 
 say, his firmness in that case was the effect of his prudence 
 
 Athenians would reverse their decree against Megara, if the Lacedaemonians 
 would allow free egress and regress, in their city, to the Athenians and their 
 allies; that they would leave all those states free, who were free at the male 
 ing of the last peace with Sparta, provided the Spartans would also leave all 
 states free who were under their dominion; and that future disputes should 
 be submitted to arbitration. In case these offers should not prevail, he ad¬ 
 vised them to hazard a war. 
 
 * Thucydides takes no notice of this herald; and yet it is so certain that 
 the Megarensians were looked upon as the authors of the murder, that they 
 were punished for it many ages after; for on that account the emperor Ad¬ 
 rian denied them many favours and privileges which he granted to the othe* 
 cities of Greece. 
 
PERICLES. 
 
 325 
 
 »nd magnanimity, as he considered that demand only as a trial, 
 and thought the least concession would be understood as an 
 acknowledgment of weakness; but others will have it, that his 
 treating the Lacedaemonians with so little ceremony, was ow¬ 
 ing to his obstinacy, and an ambition to display his power. 
 
 But the worst cause of all,* assigned for the war, and 
 which, notwithstanding, is confirmed by most historians, is 
 as follows: Phidias the statuary had undertaken (as we nave 
 said) the statue of Minerva. The friendship and influence he 
 had with Pericles, exposed him to envy, and procured him 
 many enemies, who, willing to make an experiment upon him, 
 what judgment the people might pass on Pericles himself, per¬ 
 suaded Menon, one of Phidias’s workmen, to place himself as 
 a suppliant in the forum , and to entreat the protection of the 
 republic while he lodged an information against Phidias. 
 
 The people granting his request, and the affair coming to 
 a public trial, the allegation of theft, which Menon brought 
 against him, was shown to be groundless; for Phidias, by the 
 advice of Pericles, had managed the matter from the first with 
 so much art, that the gold with which the statue was overlaid, 
 could easily be taken off and weighed; and Pericles ordered 
 this to be done by the accusers. But the excellence of his 
 work, and the envy arising thence was the thing that ruined 
 Phidias; and it was particularly insisted upon, that in his re¬ 
 presentation of the battle with the Amazons upon Minerva’s 
 shield, he had introduced his own effigies as a bald old man 
 taking up a great stone with both hands,! and a high-finished 
 picture of Pericles fighting with an Amazon. The last was 
 contrived with so much art, that the hand, which, in lifting 
 up the spear, partly covered the face, seemed to be intended 
 to conceal the likeness, which yet was very striking on both 
 sides. Phidias, therefore, was thrown into prison, where he 
 died a natural death;! though some say poison was given him 
 by his enemies, who were desirous of causing Pericles to be 
 suspected. As for the accuser Menon, he had an immunity 
 from taxes granted him, at the motion of Glycon, and the ge¬ 
 nerals were ordered to provide for his security. 
 
 About this time Asnasia was prosecuted for impiety by Her- 
 mippus a comic poet, who likewise accused her of receiving 
 
 * Pericles, when he saw his friends prosecuted, was apprehensive of a 
 prosecution himself, and therefore hastened on a rupture with the Pelopon¬ 
 nesians, to turn the attention of the people to war. 
 
 t They insisted that those modern figaires impeached the credit of the an 
 cient history, which did so much honour to Athens, and their founder The* 
 seus. 
 
 $ Others say, that he was banished, and that in his exile he made the fa 
 mous statue of Jupiter at Olympia. 
 
 29 * 
 
i526 
 
 PF.U1CLES. 
 
 into her house women above the condition of slaves, tor the 
 pleasure of Pericles. And Diopithes procured a decree, that 
 those who disputed the existence of the gods, or introduced 
 new opinions about celestial appearances, should be tried be¬ 
 fore an assembly of the people. This charge was levelled first 
 at Anaxagoras, and through him at Pericles. And as the peo¬ 
 ple admitted it, another decree was proposed by Dracontides, 
 that Pericles should give an account of the public money be¬ 
 fore the Prytanes , and that the judges should take the ballots 
 from the altar,* and try the cause in the city. But Agnon 
 caused the last article to be dropt, and instead thereof, it was 
 voted that the action should be laid before the fifteen hundred 
 judges, either for peculation, and taking of bribes, or simply for 
 corrupt practices . 
 
 Aspasia was acquitted,! though much against the tenor of 
 the law, by means of Pericles, who (according to Aeschines) 
 shed many tears in his application for mercy for her. He did 
 not expect the same indulgence for Anaxagoras,! and there¬ 
 fore caused him to quit the city, and conducted him part of 
 the way. And as he himself was become obnoxious to the 
 people upon Phidias’s account, and was afraid of being call 
 ed in question for it, he urged on the war which as yet was 
 uncertain, and blew up that flame which till then was stifled 
 and suppressed. By this means he hoped to obviate the accu¬ 
 sations that threatened him, and to mitigate the rage of envy, 
 because such was his dignity and power, that in all important 
 affairs, and in every great danger, the republic could place its 
 confidence in him alone. These are said to be the reasons 
 which induced him to persuade the people not to grant the 
 demands of the Lacedaemonians; but what was the real cause, 
 is quite uncertain. 
 
 . The Lacedaemonians, persuaded, that if they could remove 
 Pericles out of the way, they should be better able to manage 
 the Athenians, required them to banish all execrable persons 
 
 * In some extraordinary cases, where the judges were to proceed with the 
 greatest exactness and solemnity, they were to take ballots or billets from 
 the altar, and to inscribe their judgment upon them, or rather to take the 
 black and the white bean, 4 . What Plutarch means by trying the cause, 
 in the city , is not easy to determine, unless by the city , we are to understand 
 the full assembly of the people. By the fifteen hundred judges mentioned in 
 the next sentence, is probably meant the court of Heliaea , so called because 
 the judges sat in the open air exposed to the sun; for this court, on extraor¬ 
 dinary occasions, consisted of that number. 
 
 ! Iloxxat 7ra.w 7rcipa Sunv. - 
 
 t Anaxagoras held the unity of God; that it was one all-wise Intelligence, 
 which raised the beautiful structure of the world out of the chaos. And if 
 such was the opinion of the master, it was natural for the people to conclude 
 that hi? scholar Pericles was against the Polytheism of the times. 
 
PERICLES. 
 
 327 
 
 from among them; and Pericles (as Thucydides mfoiins us' 
 was by his mothers side related to those that were pronoune 
 ed execrable , in the affair of Cylon. The success, however, of 
 this application proved the reverse of what was expected by 
 those that ordered it. Instead of rendering Pericles suspect¬ 
 ed, or involving him in trouble, it procured him the more con¬ 
 fidence and respect from the people, when they perceived that 
 their enemies both hated and dreaded him above ail others. 
 For the same reason he forewarned the Athenians, that if Ar- 
 chidamus, when he entered Attica at the head of the Pelopon¬ 
 nesians, and ravaged the rest of the country, should spare his 
 estate, it must be owing either to the rights of hospitality that 
 subsisted between them, or to a design to furnish his enemies 
 with matter of slander, and therefore from that hour he gave 
 his lands and houses to the city of Athens. The Lacedaemo¬ 
 nians and confederates accordingly invaded Attica with a great 
 army under the conduct of Archidamus; and laying waste all 
 before them, proceeded as far as Acharnae,* where they en¬ 
 camped, expecting that the Athenians would not be able to 
 endure them so near, but meet them in the field for the honour 
 and safety of their country. But it appeared to Pericles too 
 hazardous to give battle to an army of sixty thousand men 
 (for such was the number of the Peloponnesians and Boeotians 
 employed in the first expedition), and by that step to risk no 
 less than the preservation of the city itself. As to those that 
 were eager for an engagement, and uneasy at his slow proceed¬ 
 ings, he endeavoured to bring them to reason, by observing, 
 “ That trees, when lopped, will soon grow again; but when 
 men are cut off, the loss is not easily repaired.” 
 
 In the mean time he took care to hold no assembly of the 
 people, lest he should be forced to act against his own opinion. 
 But as a good pilot, when a storm arises at sea, gives his di¬ 
 rections, gets nis tackle in order, and then uses his art, re¬ 
 gardless of the tears and entreaties of the sick and fearful pas¬ 
 sengers; so Pericles, when he had secured the gates, and placed 
 the guards in every quarter to the best advantage, followed 
 the dictates of his own understanding, unmoved by the cla¬ 
 mours and complaints that resounded in his ears. Thus firm he 
 remained, notwithstanding the importunity of his friends, and 
 the threats and accusations of his enemies, notwithstanding the 
 many scoffs and songs sung to vilify his character as a general, 
 and to represent him as one who, in the most dastardly man¬ 
 ner, betrayed his country to the enemy. Cleon,t too, at- 
 
 * The borough of Acharme was only fifteen hundred paces from the city. 
 
 f The same Cleon that Aristophanes satirized. By his harangues and po¬ 
 litical intrigues, he got himself appointed general, See a farther accoun 
 Df him in the life of Nicias. 
 
328 
 
 PERICLES. 
 
 tacked him with great acrimony, making use of the genera! 
 resentment against Pericles, as a means to increase his own 
 popularity, as Hermippus testifies in these verses:— 
 
 Sleeps then, thou king of satyrs, sleeps the spear. 
 
 While thundering* words make war? why boast thy prowess, 
 
 Yet shudder at the sound of sharpen’d swords. 
 
 Spite of the flaming Cleon? 
 
 Pericles, however, regarded nothing of this kind, but calmly 
 and silently bore all this disgrace and virulence. And though 
 he fitted out a hundred ships, and sent them against Pelopon¬ 
 nesus, yet he did not sail with them, but chose to stay and 
 watch over the city, and keep the reins of government in his 
 own hands, until the Peloponnesians were gone. In order tc 
 satisfy the common people, who were very uneasy on account 
 of the war, he made a distribution of money and lands; for 
 having expelled the inhabitants of iEgina, he divided the 
 island by lot among the Athenians. Besides, the sufferings 
 of the enemy afforded them some consolation. The fleet sent 
 against Peloponnesus, ravaged a large tract of country, aird 
 sacked the small towns and villages; and Pericles himself 
 made a descent upon the territories of Megara,* which he laid 
 waste. Whence it appears,t that though the Peloponnesians 
 greatly distressed the Athenians by land, yet as they were 
 equally distressed by sea, they could not have drawn out the 
 war to so great a length, but must soon have given it up (as 
 Pericles foretold from the beginning), had not some divine 
 power prevented the effect of human counsels. A pestilence 
 at that time broke out,J which destroyed the flower of the 
 youth and the strength of Athens. And not only their bodies, 
 but their very minds were affected; for as persons delirious 
 with a fever, set themselves against a physician or a father, 
 so they raved against Pericles, and attempted his ruin; being 
 persuaded by his enemies, that the sickness was occasioned 
 ny the multitude of out-dwellers flocking into the city, and a 
 number of people stuffed together in the height of summer, 
 in small huts and close cabins, where they were forced to live 
 a lazy, inactive life, instead of breathing the pure and open 
 air to which they had been accustomed. They would needs 
 have it, that he was the cause of all this, who, when the war 
 
 * He did not undertake this expedition until autumn, when the Lacedae¬ 
 monians were retired. In the winter of this year, the Athenians solem¬ 
 nized, in an extraordinary manner, the funerals of such as first died in the 
 war. Pericles pronounced the oration on that occasion, which Thucydides 
 has preserved. 
 
 -j-H X3t i <T»xov.- 
 
 i See this plague excellently described by Thucydides, who had it him 
 %elf.— Lib. ii. prop. init. 
 
PERICLES. 
 
 329 
 
 began, admitted within the walls such crowds of people from 
 the country, and yet found no employment for them, but let 
 them continue penned up like cattle, to infect and destroy 
 each other, without affording them the least relief or refresh¬ 
 ment. 
 
 Desirous to remedy this calamity, and withal in some degree 
 to annoy the enemy, he manned a hundred and fifty ships, on 
 which he embarked great numbers of select horse and foot, 
 and was preparing to set sail. The Athenians conceived good 
 hopes of success, and the enemy no less dreaded so great an 
 armament. The whole fleet was in readiness, and Pericles on 
 board his own galley, when there happened an eclipse of the 
 sun. This sudden darkness was looked upon as an unfavour¬ 
 able omen, and threw them into the greatest consternation. 
 Pericles, observing that the pilot was much astonished and 
 perplexed, took his cloak, and having covered his eyes with 
 it, asked him,—“ If he found any thing terrible in that, or 
 considered it as a sad presage?” Upon his answering in the 
 negative, he said,—“ Where is the difference then between 
 this and the other, except that something bigger than my cloak 
 causes the eclipse?” But this is a question which is discussed 
 in the schools of philosophy. 
 
 In this expedition Pericles performed nothing worthy of so 
 great an equipment. He laid siege to the sacred city of Epi- 
 daurus,* and at fir^t with some rational hopes of success;! but 
 the distemper which prevailed in his army broke all his mea¬ 
 sures; for it not only carried off his own men, but all that had 
 intercourse with them. As this ill success set the ‘Athenians 
 against him, he endeavoured to console them under their loss¬ 
 es, and to animate them to new attempts. But it was not in 
 his power to mitigate their resentment, nor could they be sa¬ 
 tisfied, until they had showed themselves masters, by voting 
 that he should be deprived of the command, and pay a fine, 
 which, by the lowest account, was fifteen talents; some make 
 it fifty. The person that carried on the prosecution against 
 him was Cleon, as domeneus tells us; or, according to Theo¬ 
 phrastus, Simmias; or Lacratides, if we believe Heraclides, 
 of Pontus. 
 
 The public ferment, indeed, soon subsided, the people quit¬ 
 ting their resentment with that blow, as a bee leaves its sting 
 in the wound; but his private affairs were in a miserable con¬ 
 dition; for he had lost a number of his relations in the plague, 
 
 * This Epidaums was in Argia. It was consecrated to Aesculapius; and 
 Plutarch calls it sacred , to distinguish it from another town of the same 
 name in Laconia. 
 
 ! ^.hTrtf'JL TrdLQXvyjxray ’atArucrcyuswv.- 
 
 Vot.. T.- 2 X 
 
330 
 
 PERICLES. 
 
 and a misunderstanding had prevailed lor some time in his 
 family. Xanthippus, the eldest of his legitimate sons, was 
 naturally profuse, and besides had married a young and ex¬ 
 pensive wife, daughter to Isander, and grand-daughter to 
 Epylicus. He knew not how to brook his father’s frugality, 
 who supplied him but sparingly, and with a little at a time, 
 and therefore sent to one of his friends, and took up money in 
 the name of Pericles. When the man came to demand his 
 money, Pericles not only refused to pay him, but even prose¬ 
 cuted him for the demand. Xanthippus was so highly enra 
 ged at this, that he began openly to abuse his father. First he 
 exposed and ridiculed the company he kept in his house, and 
 the conversations he held with the philosophers. He said, 
 that Epitimius the Pharsalian having undesignedly killed a 
 horse with a javelin which he threw at the public games, his 
 father spent a whole day in disputing with Protogorus, which 
 might be properly deemed the cause of his death, the javelin, 
 or the man that threw it, or the presidents of the games. 
 Stesimbrotus adds, that it was Xanthippus who spread the vile 
 report concerning his own wife and Pericles, and that the 
 young man retained this implacable hatred against his father 
 to his latest breath. He was carried off by the plague. Peri¬ 
 cles lost his sister too, at that time, and the greatest part of 
 his relations and friends, who were most capable of assisting 
 him in the business of the state. Notwithstanding these mis¬ 
 fortunes, he lost not his dignity of sentiment and greatness of 
 soul. He neither wept, nor performed any funeral rites, nor 
 was he seen at the grave of any of his nearest relations, until 
 the death of Paralus, his last surviving legitimate son. This 
 at last subdued him. He attempted, indeed, then to keep up 
 his usual calm behaviour and serenity of mind: but in putting 
 the garland upon the head of the deceased, his firmness forsook 
 him; he could not bear the sad spectacle, he broke out into 
 loud lamentations, and shed a torrent of tears; a passion which 
 he had never before given way to. 
 
 Athens made a trial, in the course of a year, of the rest of 
 her generals and orators, and finding none of sufficient weight 
 and authority for so important a charge, she once more turned 
 her eyes on Pericles, and invited him to take upon him the 
 Direction of affairs both military and civil. He nad for some 
 time shut himself up at home to indulge his sorrow, when Al- 
 eibiades and his other friends persuaded him to make his ap¬ 
 pearance. The people making an apology for their ungener¬ 
 ous treatment of him, he re-assumed the reigns of government, 
 and being appointed general, his first step was to procure the 
 repeal of the law concerning bastards, of which he himself had 
 been the author; for he was afraid that his name and fannlv 
 
PERICLES. 
 
 331 
 
 would be extinct for want of a successor. The history of that 
 law is as follows:—Many years before, Pericles, in the height 
 of his power, and having several legitimate sons, (as we have 
 already related) caused a law to be made, that none should be 
 accounted citizens of Athens, but those whose parents were 
 both Athenians.* * * § After this, the king of Egypt made the 
 Athenians a present of forty thousand medimni of wheat; and 
 as this was to be divided among the citizens, many persons 
 were proceeded against as illegitimate upon that law, whose 
 birth had never before been called in question, and many were 
 disgraced upon false accusations. Near five thousand were 
 cast and sold for slaves;! and fourteen thousand and forty ap¬ 
 peared to be entitled to the privilege of citizens. J Though 
 it was unequitable and strange, that a law, which had been put 
 in execution with so much severity, should be repealed by the 
 man who first proposed it, yet the Athenians, moved at the 
 late misfortunes in his family, by which he seemed to have 
 suffered the punishment of his arrogance and pride, and think¬ 
 ing he should be treated with humanity, after he had felt the 
 wrath of heaven, permitted him to enrol a natural son in his 
 own tribe, and to give him his own name. This is he who 
 afterwards defeated the Peloponnesians in a sea-fight at Ar- 
 ginusae, and w r as put to death by the people, together with his 
 colleagues. § 
 
 About this time Pericles was seized with the plague, but 
 not with such acute and continued symptoms as it generally 
 shows. It was rather a lingering distemper, which, with fre¬ 
 quent intermissions, and by slow degrees, consumed his body, 
 and impaired the vigour of his mind. Theophrastus has a 
 disquisition in his ethics, whether men’s characters may be 
 
 * According to Plutarch’s account, at the beginning of the life of The- 
 mistocles, this law was made before the time of Pericles. Pericles, how¬ 
 ever, might put it more strictly in execution than it had been before, from 
 a spirit of opposition to Cimon, whose children were only of the half-blood. 
 
 f The illegitimacy did not reduce men to a state of servitude; it only pla¬ 
 ced them in the rank of strangers. 
 
 t A small number indeed, at a time when Athens had dared to think of 
 sending out colonies, humbling her neighbours, subduing foreigners, and 
 even of erecting an universal monarchy. 
 
 § The Athenians had appointed ten commanders on that occasion. After 
 they had obtained the victory, they were tried, and eight of them were 
 capitally condemned, of whom six that were on the spot were executed, and 
 this natural son of Pericles was one of them. The only crime laid to their 
 charge, was, that they had not buried the dead. Xenophon, in his Grecian 
 history, has given a large account of this affair. It happened under the 
 archonship of Callias, the second year of the ninety-third Olympiad, twenty- 
 four years after the death of Pericles. Socrates the philosopher was at that 
 tone one of the prytanes, and resolutely refused to do his office. And a lit 
 de while after the madness of the people turned the other way. 
 
332 
 
 perici.es. 
 
 changed with their fortune, and the soul so affected with the 
 disorders of the body as to lose her virtue; and there he re¬ 
 lates, that Pericles showed to a friend, who came to visit him 
 in his sickness, an amulet which the women had hung about 
 his neck, intimating that he must be sick indeed, since he sub¬ 
 mitted to so ridiculous a piece of superstition. * 
 
 When he was at the point of death, his surviving friends 
 and the principal citizens sitting about his bed, discoursed to¬ 
 gether concerning his extraordinary virtue, and the great au¬ 
 thority he had enjoyed, and enumerated his various exploits 
 and the number of his victories; for, while he was command¬ 
 er-in-chief, he had erected no less than nine trophies to the 
 honour of Athens. These things they talked of, supposing 
 that he attended not to what they said, but that his senses were 
 gone. He took notice, however, of every word they had 
 spoken, and thereupon delivered himself audibly as follows:— 
 •‘I am surprised, that while you dwell upon and extol these 
 acts of mine, though fortune had her share in them, and many 
 other generals have performed the like, you take no notice of 
 the greatest and most honourable part of my character, that no 
 Athenian , through my means , ever put on mourning 
 
 Pericles undoubtedly deserved admiration, not only for the 
 candour and moderation which he ever retained amidst the 
 distractions of business and the rage of his enemies, but for that 
 noble sentiment which led him to think it his most excellent 
 attainment never to have given way to envy or anger, not¬ 
 withstanding the greatness of his power, nor to have nourish¬ 
 ed an implacable hatred against his greatest foe. In my opin¬ 
 ion, this one thing, I mean his mild and dispassionate beha¬ 
 viour, his unblemished integrity and irreproachable conduct 
 during his whole administration, makes his appellation of 
 Olympius, which would be otherwise vain and absurd, no 
 longer exceptionable, nay, gives it a propriety. Thus we 
 think the divine powers, as the authors of all good, and natu¬ 
 rally incapable of producing evil, worthy to rule and preside 
 over the universe; not in the manner which the poets relate, 
 who, while they endeavour to bewilder us by their irrational 
 opinions, stand convicted of inconsistency by their own wri¬ 
 tings; for they represent the place which the gods inhabit, as 
 the region of security and the most perfect tranquillity, unap¬ 
 proached by storms, and unsullied with clouds; where a sweet 
 serenity forever reigns, and a pure set her displays itself with- 
 
 * It does not appear by this that his understanding* was weakened, since 
 lie knew the charm to be a ridiculous piece of superstition, and showed it tc 
 his friend as such; but only that in his extreme sickness he had not resolu¬ 
 tion enough to refuse what he was sensible would do him no g*ood. 
 
PERICLES. 
 
 333 
 
 out interruption; ana tnese they think mansions suitable to a 
 blessed and immortal nature. Yet, at the same time, they 
 represent the gods themselves as full of anger, malevolence; 
 hatred, and other passions, unworthy even of a reasonable man. 
 But this by the bye. 
 
 The state of public affairs soon showed the want of Pericles,* 
 and the Athenians openly expressed their regret for his loss. 
 Even those who in his lifetime could but ill brook his superi¬ 
 or power, as thinking themselves eclipsed by it, yet upon a 
 trial of other orators and demagogues, after he was gone, soon 
 acknowledged, that where severity was required, no man was 
 ever more moderate; or if mildness was necessary, no man 
 better kept up his dignity than Pericles. And his so much 
 envied authority, to which they had given the name of mon¬ 
 archy and tyranny, then appeared to have been the bulwark 
 of the state; so much corruption and such a rage of wicked¬ 
 ness broke out upon the commonwealth after his death, which 
 he by proper restraints had palliated,t and kept from danger¬ 
 ous and destructive extremities. 
 
 * Pericles died in the third year of the Peloponnesian war, that is, the last 
 V ear of the eighty-seventh Olympiad, and 428 years before the Christian era. 
 
 f Pericles did indeed palliate the distempers of the commonwealth while 
 he lived, but (as we have observed before) he sowed the seeds of them, by 
 bribing the people with their own money, with which they were as much 
 pleased as if it had been his. 
 
THE 
 
 LIFE OF FABIUS MAXIMUS. 
 
 Such were the memorable actions of Pericles,* * * § as far as we 
 nave been able to collect them; and now we proceed to the life 
 of Fabius Maximus. 
 
 The first Fabius was the son of Hercules by one of the 
 Nymphs, according to some authors; or, as others say, ty a 
 woman of the country near the river Tiber. From him came 
 the family of the Fabii, one of the most numerous and illus¬ 
 trious in Rome.t Yet some authors write, that the first 
 founders of this family were called Fodii, i on account of their 
 catching wild beasts by means of pits; for a pit is still in Latin 
 called fovea , and the word fodere signifies to dig: but in time 
 two letters being changed, they had the name of Fabii. This 
 family produced many eminent men, the most considerable of 
 whom was Rullus ,§ by the Romans surnamed Maximus , or the 
 great: and from him the Fabius Maximus of whom we are writ¬ 
 ing, was the fourth in descent. 
 
 This last had the surname of Verrucosus , from a small wart 
 on his upper lip. He was likewise called Ovicula, || from the 
 mildness and gravity of his behaviour when a boy. Nay, his 
 composed demeanour, and his silence, his caution in engaging 
 in the diversions of the other boys, the slowness and difficulty 
 
 * fif TrupitklKpel/UiV. 
 
 j* The most numerous; for that family alone undertook the war against the 
 Veientes, and sent out three hundred and six persons of their own name, who 
 were all slain in that expedition. It was likewise o.ne of the most illustrious; 
 for the Fabii had borne the highest offices in the state, and two of them 
 had been seven times consul. 
 
 + Pliny’s account of the matteris much more probable, viz. that they were 
 called Fabii , a fabis, from their skill in raising beans; as several other families 
 of note among the Romans were denominated from other branches of hus¬ 
 bandry. Indeed, their first heroes tilled the ground with their own hands. 
 
 § This Fabius Rullus was five times consul, and gained several important 
 victoiies over the Samnites, Tuscans, and other nations. It was not, how¬ 
 ever, from these great actions that he obtained the surname of Maximus , but 
 from his behaviour in the censorship; during which he reduced the populace 
 of Rome into four tribes, who before were dispersed among all the tribes in 
 general, and by that means had very great power in the assemblies, 
 were called Tribus Urbanae.—Liv . lib. ix. cap. 46, 
 
 y Ovicula signifies a little sheep. 
 
FABIUS MAXIMUS. 
 
 335 
 
 with which he took up what was taught him, together with 
 the submissive manner in which he complied with the propo¬ 
 sals of his comrades, brought him under the suspicion of stu¬ 
 pidity and foolishness with those that did not thoroughly know 
 him. Yet a few there were who perceived that his composedness 
 was owing to the solidity of his parts, and who discerned with¬ 
 al, magnanimity and lion-like courage in his nature. In a short 
 time, when application to business drew him out, it was ob¬ 
 vious even to the many, that his seeming inactivity was a 
 command which he had of his passions, that his cautiousness 
 was prudence, and that which had passed for heaviness and 
 insensibility was really an immoveable firmness of soul. He 
 saw what an important concern the administration was, and in 
 what wars the republic was frequently engaged, and therefore 
 by exercise prepared his body, considering its strength as a 
 natural armour; at the same time he improved his power of 
 persuasion, as the engines by which the people are to be mov¬ 
 ed, adapting them to the manner of his life; for in his eloquence 
 there was nothing of affectation, no empty* plausible elegance; 
 but it was full of that good sense which was peculiar to him, 
 and had a sententious force and depth, said to have resembled 
 that of Thucydides. There is an oration of his still extant, 
 which he delivered before the people on occasion of his son’s 
 funeral, who died after he had been consul. 
 
 Fabius Maximus was five times consul;! and in his first con¬ 
 sulship was honoured with a triumph for the victory he gained 
 over the Ligurians, who being defeated by him in a set battle, 
 with the loss of a great number of men, were driven behind 
 the Alps, and kept from such inroads and ravages as they had 
 used to make in the neighbouring provinces. 
 
 Some years after, Hannibal having invaded Italy,! and 
 gained the battle of Trebia, advanced through Tuscany, laying 
 waste the country, and striking Rome itself with terror and as¬ 
 tonishment. This desolation was announced by signs and 
 prodigies;, some familiar to the Romans, as that of thunder for 
 instance, and others quite stnos.ge and unaccountable. For it 
 was said that certain shields sweated blood; that bloody corn 
 was cut at Antium: that red hot stones fell from the air; that 
 the Falerians saw the heavens open, and many billets fall,§ 
 
 * The writers that affect this, Plato calls \oytS'ut<f'u\ot. 
 
 f Fabius was consul the first time in the year of Rome 521; and the fifth 
 time, in the tentli year of the second Punic war, in the year of Rome 545. 
 
 t Here Plutarch leaves a voi d of fifteen years. It was not indeed a re¬ 
 markable period of the life of Fabius. Hannibal entered Italy in the year of 
 Rome 535. He defeated Scipio in the battle of Ticinus, before he beat 
 Sempronius in that of Trebia. 
 
 $ Plutarch misunderstood Livy, and of the two prodigies which he men- 
 
336 
 
 FABIUS MAXIMUS. 
 
 upon one of which these words were very legible, Mars bran « 
 iisketh his arms. But Caius Flaminius, then consul, was not 
 discouraged by any of these things. He was indeed naturally 
 g man of much fire and ambition, and besides was elated by 
 former successes, which he had met with contrary to all pro¬ 
 bability; for against the sense of the senate and his colleague, 
 he had engaged with the Gauls and beaten them. Fabius like¬ 
 wise paid but little regard to prodigies,* as too absurd to be 
 believed, notwithstanding the great effect they had upon the 
 multitude. But being informed how small the numbers of the 
 enemy were, and of their want of money, he advised the Ro¬ 
 mans to have patience; not to give battle to a man who led on 
 an army hardened by many conflicts for this very purpose, 
 but to send succours to their allies, and to secure the towns that 
 were in their possession, until the vigour of the enemy expir¬ 
 ed of itself, like a flame for want of fuel. 
 
 He could not, however, prevail upon Flaminius. That 
 general declared he would never suffer the war to approach 
 Rome; nor, like Camillus of old, dispute within the walls, 
 who should be master of the city. He therefore ordered the 
 tribunes to draw out the forces, and mounted his horse, but 
 was thrown headlong off,t the horse without any visible cause 
 being seized with a fright and trembling* yet he persisted in 
 his resolution of marching out to meet Hannibal, and drew 
 up his army near the lake called Thrasymenus,t in Tuscany. 
 
 While the armies were engaged there happened an earth- 
 
 tions, made but one. Livy says ,—“ At Falerium the sky was seen to open, 
 and in the void space a great light appeared. The lots at Praeneste shrunk 
 of their own accord, and one of them dropped down, whereon was written. 
 Mars brandisheth his sword.' 9 —Liv. lib. xxii. These lots were bits of oak 
 handsomely wrought, with some ancient characters inscribed upon them. 
 When any came to consult them, the coffer in which they were kept was 
 opened, and a child having first shaken them together, drew out one from 
 the rest, which contained the answer to the querist’s demand. As to the 
 lots being shrunk, which Livy mentions, and which was considered as a bad 
 omen, no doubt the priests had two sets, a smaller and a greater, which they 
 played upon the people’s superstition as they pleased. Cicero says they 
 were very little regarded in his time.— Cic . de Divinat . lib. ii. 
 
 * If Fabius was not moved by those prodigies, it was not because he de¬ 
 spised them, (as his colleague did, who, according to Livy, neither feared 
 the gods, nor took advice of men,) but because he hoped, by appeasing the 
 anger of the gods, to render the prodigies ineffectual. It was not Fabius, 
 however, but Cn. Servilius Geminus, who was colleague to Flaminius. 
 
 f This fall from his horse, which was considered as an ill omen, was fol¬ 
 lowed by another as bad. When the ensign attempted to pull his standard 
 out of the ground in order to march, he had not strength enough to do it. 
 But where is the wonder, says Cicero, to have a horse take fright, or to find 
 a standard-bearer feebly endeavouring to draw out + he standard 
 had perhaps purposely struck deeD into the ground > 
 
 r Now the lake of Perugia. 
 
FABIUS MAXIMUS. 
 
 337 
 
 quake, which overturned whole cities, changed the course ot 
 rivers, and tcre oflf the tops of mountains; yet not one of the 
 combatants was in the least sensible of that violent motion. 
 Flaminius himself having greatly signalized his strengtn ana 
 valour, fell, and with him the bravest of his troops. The rest 
 being routed, a great carnage ensued; full fifteen thousand 
 were slain, and as many taken prisoners.* Hannibal was 
 very desirous of discovering the body of Flaminius, that he 
 might bury it with due honour, as a tribute to his bravery; 
 but he could not find it, nor could and account be given what 
 became of it. 
 
 When the Romans lost the battle of Trebia, neither the ge¬ 
 nerals sent a true account of it, nor the messenger represented 
 it as it was: both pretended the victory was doubtful. But as 
 to the last, as soon as the praetor Pomponius was apprised ot 
 it, he assembled the people, and without disguising the mat¬ 
 ter in the least, made this declaration :—“ Romans, we have 
 lost a great battle, our army is cut to pieces, and Flaminius 
 the consul is slain; think, therefore, what is to be done for 
 your safety.” The same commotion which a furious wind 
 causes in the ocean, did these words of the praetor produce in 
 so vast a multitude. In the first consternation they could not 
 fix upon any thing; but at length all agreed that affairs re¬ 
 quired the direction of an absolute power, which they called 
 the dictatorship; and that a man should be fixed upon for it, 
 who would exercise it with steadiness and intrepidity: that 
 such a man was Fabius Maximus, who had a spirit and dig¬ 
 nity of manners equal to so great a command, and besides was 
 of an age in which the vigour of the body is sufficient to exe¬ 
 cute the purposes of the mind, and courage is tempered witk 
 prudence. 
 
 Pursuant to these resolutions, Fabius was chosen dictator,! 
 
 * Notwithstanding* this complete victory, Hannibal lost only fifteen hun¬ 
 dred men; for he fought the Homans at great advantage, having drawn them 
 into an ambuscade between the hills of Cortona and the lake Thrasymenus. 
 Livy and Valerius Maximus make the number of prisoners only six thou¬ 
 sand; but Polybius says they were much more numerous. About ten thou¬ 
 sand Romans, most of them wounded, made their escape, and took their 
 route to Rome, where few of them arrived, the rest dying of their wounds 
 before they reached the capital. Two mothers were so transported •with 
 joy, one at the gate of the city, when she saw her son unexpectedly appear 
 and the other at home, where she found her son, that they both expired on 
 the spot. 
 
 | A dictator could not be regularly named but by the surviving consul, 
 and Servilius being with the army, the people appointed Fabius by theii 
 own authority, with the title of pro-dictator. However, the gratitude of 
 Rome allowed his descendants to put dictator, instead of nro-dictator, in 
 the list of his titles. 
 
 Vol. i.-2 Y 30* 
 
338 
 
 FAB I US MAXIMUS. 
 
 and he appointed Lucias Minutius his general of the horse.* 
 But first he desired permission of the senate to make use of 
 a horse when in the field. This was forbidden by an ancient 
 law, either because they placed their greatest strength in the 
 infantry, and therefore chose that the commandcr-in-chief 
 should be always posted among them; or else because they 
 would have the dictator, whose power in all other respects 
 was very great, and indeed arbitrary, in this case at least ap¬ 
 pear to be dependent upon the people. In the next place, 
 Fabius, willing to show the high authority and grandeur of 
 his office, in order to make the people more tractable and sub¬ 
 missive, appeared in public with twenty-four Victors carrying 
 the fasces before him; and when the surviving consul met him, 
 lie sent one of his officers to order him to dismiss his Victors 
 and the other ensigns of his employment, and to join him as 
 a private man. 
 
 Then beginning with an act of religion, which is the best 
 of all beginnings,t and assuring the people that their defeats 
 were not owing to the cowardice of the soldiers, but to the 
 general’s neglect of the sacred rites and auspices, he exhorted 
 them to entertain no dread of the enemy, but by extraordi¬ 
 nary honours to propitiate the gods. Not that he wanted to 
 infuse into them a spirit of superstition, but to confirm their 
 valour by piety, and to deliver them from every other fear by 
 a sense of the divine protection. On that occasion he con¬ 
 sulted several of those mysterious books of the Sybils, which 
 contained matters of great use to the state; and it is said, that 
 some of the prophecies found there perfectly agreed with the 
 circumstances of those times; but it w T as not lawful for him to 
 divulge them. However, in full assembly he vowed to the 
 gods a ver sacrum, that is, all the young which the next spring 
 should produce, on the mountains, the fields, the rivers, and 
 meadows of Italy, from the goats, the swine, the sheep, and 
 the cows, f He likewise vow^ed to exhibit the great games in 
 honour of the gods, and to expend upon those games three 
 hundred and thirty-three thousand sesterces , three hundred and 
 thirty-three denarii, and one third of a denarius; which sum in 
 our Greek money is eighty-three thousand five hundred and 
 eighty-three drachmas and two oboli. What his reason might 
 be for fixing upon tha; precise number is not easy to deter¬ 
 mine, unless it were on account of the perfection of the num- 
 
 * According’ to Polybius and Livy, his name was not Lucius, but Marcus 
 Minutius; nor was he pitched upon by Fabius, but by the people. 
 
 j K&MlgJiv cLp%'jU'cV0? M fieev tLfQjw. 
 
 t This vow had formerly been made to Mars bv Aulus Cornelius. anJ 
 neglected. 
 
FABIUS MAXIMUS. 
 
 339 
 
 her three, as being the first of odd numbers, the first of plu¬ 
 rals, and containing in itself the first differences, and the first 
 elements of all numbers. 
 
 Fabius having taught the people to repose themselves on 
 acts of religion, made them more easy as to future events. 
 For his own part, he placed all his hopes of victory in him¬ 
 self, believing that heaven blesses men with success, on ac¬ 
 count of their virtue and prudence; and therefore he watched 
 the motions of Hannibal, not with a design to give him battle 
 but by length of time to waste his spirit and vigour, and gradu 
 ally to destroy him by means of his superiority in men and 
 money. To secure himself against the enemy’s horse, he 
 took care to encamp above them on high and mountainous 
 places. When they sat still, he did the same; when they were 
 in motion, he showed himself upon the heights, at such a dis¬ 
 tance as not to be obliged to fight against his inclination, and 
 yet near enough to keep them in perpetual alarm, as if amidst 
 his arts, to gain time, he intended every moment to give them 
 battle. 
 
 These dilatory proceedings exposed him to contempt among 
 the Romans in general, and even in his own army. The ene¬ 
 my, too, excepting Hannibal, thought him a man of no spirit. 
 He alone was sensible of the keenness of Fabius, and of the 
 manner in which he intended to carry on the war, and there¬ 
 fore was determined, if possible, either by stratagem or force, 
 to bring him to a battle, concluding that otherwise the Cartha¬ 
 ginians must be undone; since they could not decide the mat¬ 
 ter in the field, where they had the advantage, but must gra¬ 
 dually wear away, and be reduced to nothing, when the dis¬ 
 pute was only who should be superior in men and money. 
 Hence it was that he exhausted the whole art of war, like a 
 skilful wrestler, who watches every opportunity to lay hold 
 of his adversary. Sometimes he advanced and alarmed him 
 with the apprehensions of an attack: sometimes by marching 
 and counter-marching he led him from place to place, hoping 
 to draw him from his plan of caution.* But as he was fully 
 
 K ersuaded of its utility, he kept immoveable to his resolution. 
 
 linutius, the general of the horse, gave him, however, no 
 small trouble by his unseasonable courage and heat, harangu 
 ing the army, and filling them with a furious desire to come 
 to action, and a vain confidence of success. Thus the soldiers 
 were brought to despise Fabius, and by way of derision to 
 call him the pedagogue of Hannibal,t while they extolled Mi- 
 
 * Ex. 2 »rM rw xj7ri g Koytruaiv fiaX'j/utvo;. 
 
 f For the office of n pedagogue of old was fas th* implies) to 0 X 
 
340 
 
 FAB JUS MAXIMUS. 
 
 nutius as a great man, and one that acted up to t*te dignity of 
 Rome. This led Minutius to give a freer scope to his arro¬ 
 gance and pride, and to ridicule the dictator for encamping 
 constantly upon the mountains,—“ As if he did it on pur¬ 
 pose that his men might more clearly behold Italy laid waste 
 with fire and sword.” And he asked the friends of Fabius, 
 “ Whether he intended to take his army up into heaven, as 
 he had bid adieu to the world below, or whether he would 
 screen himself from the enemy with clouds and fogs?” When 
 the dictator’s friends brought him an account of these asper¬ 
 sions, and exhorted him to wipe them off by risking a battle; 
 “ In that case,” said he, “I should be of a mere dastardly 
 spirit than they represent me, if through fear of insults and 
 reproaches, I should depart from my own resolution. But 
 to fear for my country is not a disagreeable fear. That man 
 is unworthy of such a command as thi-s, who shrinks under 
 calumnies and slanders, and complies with the humour of 
 those whom he ought to govern, and whose folly and rashness 
 it is his duty to restrain.” 
 
 After this, Hannibal made a disagreeable mistake. For in 
 tending to lead his army farther from Fabius, and to move into 
 a part of the country that would afford him forage, he ordered 
 the guides, immediately after supper, to conduct him to the 
 plains of Casinum.* They taking the word wrong, by reason 
 of his barbarous pronunciation of it, led his forces to the bor¬ 
 ders of Campania, near the town of Casilinum, through which 
 runs the river Lothronus, which the Romans call Vulturnus. 
 The adjacent country is surrounded by mountains, except only 
 a valley that stretches out to the sea. Near the sea the ground 
 is very marshy and full of large banks of sand, by reason of 
 the overflowing of the river. The sea is there very rough, 
 and the coast almost impracticable. 
 
 As soon as Hannibal was entered into this valley, Fabius, 
 availing himself of his knowledge of the country, seized the 
 narrow outlet, and placed in it a guard of four thousand men 
 The main body of his army he posted to advantage on the 
 
 tend the children, to carry them up and down and conduct them home 
 again. 
 
 * Hannibal had ravaged Samnium, plundered the territory of Beneventum, 
 a Roman colony, and laid siege to Tilesia, a citv at the foot of the Appe- 
 nines. But finding that neither the ravaging of the country, nor even the 
 taking of some cities, could make Fabius quit his eminences, he resolved 
 to make use of a stronger bait, which was to enter Campania, the finest 
 country in Italy, and lay it waste under the dictator’s eyes, hoping by that 
 means to bring him to an action. But, by the mistake which Plutarch men¬ 
 tions, his guides, instead of conducting him to the plains of Casinum, led 
 him into the narrow passes of Casilinum, which divides Samnium from 
 Campania 
 
FAB1US MAXIMUS. 
 
 341 
 
 surrounding hills, and with the lightest and most active of his 
 troops, fell upon the enemy’s rear, put their whole army in 
 disorder and killed about eight hundred of them, 
 
 Hannibal then wanted to get clear of so disadvantageous a 
 situation, and in revenge of the mistake the guides had made, 
 and the danger they had brought him into, he crucified them 
 all. But not knowing how to drive the enemy from the 
 heights they were masters of, and sensible besides of the ter¬ 
 ror and confusion that reigned amongst his men, who conclud¬ 
 ed themselves fallen into a snare, from which there was no es¬ 
 caping, he had recourse to stratagem. 
 
 The contrivance was this: He caused two thousand oxen, 
 which he had in his camp, to have torches and dry bavins well 
 fastened to their horns. These, in the night, upon a signal 
 given, were to be lighted, and the oxen to be driven to the 
 mountains, near the narrow pass that was guarded by the ene¬ 
 my. While those that had it in charge were thus employed, 
 he decamped, and marched slowly forward. So long as the 
 fire was moderate, and burnt only the torches and bavins,* the 
 oxen moved softly on, as they were driven up the hills; and 
 the shepherds and herdsmen on the adjacent heights took them 
 for an army that marched in order with lighted torches. But 
 when their horns were burnt to the roots, and the fire pierced 
 to the quick, terrified, and mad with pain, they no longer kept 
 any certain route, but ran up the hills, with their foreheads 
 and tails flaming, and setting every thing on fire that came in 
 their way. The Romans who guarded the pass were astonish¬ 
 ed; for they appeared to them like a great number of men run¬ 
 ning up and down with torches, which scattered fire on every 
 side. In their fears, of course, they concluded that they 
 should be attacked and surrounded by the enemy; for which 
 reason they quitted the pass, and fled to the main body in the 
 camp. Immediately Hannibal’s light-armed troops took pos¬ 
 session of the outlet, and the rest of his forces marched safely 
 through, loaded with a rich booty. 
 
 FaSius discovered the stratagem that same night; for some 
 of the oxen, as they were scattered about, fell into his hands; 
 but, for fear of an ambush in the dark, he kept his men ad 
 night under arms in the camp. At break of day he pursued 
 the enemy, came up with their rear, and attacked them; seve¬ 
 ral skirmishes ensued in the difficult passes of the mountains, 
 and Hannibal’s army was put in some disorder, until he de¬ 
 tached from his van a body of Spaniards, light and nimble 
 men, who were accustomed to climb such heights. These 
 tailing upon the heavy-armed Romans, cut off a considerable 
 
 A \jt /utv 7rvp o\iyov >»v, K'xt 7rifj-KJ~t txv 
 
342 
 
 FAB1US MAXIMUS. 
 
 number of them, and obliged Fabius to retire. This brought 
 upon him more contempt and calumny than ever; for having 
 renounced open force, as if he could subdue Hannibal by com 
 auct and foresight, he appeared now to be worsted at his own 
 weapons. Hannibal, to incense the Romans still more against 
 him, when he came to his lands, ordered them to be spared, 
 and set a guard upon them, to prevent the committing of the 
 least injury there, while he was ravaging all the country around 
 them, and laying it waste with fire. An account of these 
 things being brought to Rome, heavy complaints were made 
 thereupon. The tribunes alleged many articles of accusation 
 against him before the people, chiefly at the instigation of 
 Metilius, who had no particular enmity to Fabius, but being 
 strongly in the interest of Minutius, the general of the horse, 
 whose relation he was, he thought by depressing Fabius tc 
 raise his friend. The senate, too, was offended, particularlv 
 with the terms he had settled with Hannibal for the ransom of 
 prisoners. For it was agreed between them, that the pri¬ 
 soners should be exchanged, man for man, and that if either 
 of them had more than the other, he should release them for 
 two hundred and fifty drachmas each man;* and upon the 
 whole account there remained two hundred and forty Ro¬ 
 mans unexchanged. The senate determined not to pay this 
 ransom, and blamed Fabius as taking a step that was against 
 the honour and interest of the state, in endeavouring to re¬ 
 cover men whom cowardice had betrayed into the hands of 
 the enemy. 
 
 When Fabius was informed of the resentment of his fellow 
 citizens, he bore it with invincible patience; but being in want 
 of money, and not choosing to deceive Hannibal, or to aban¬ 
 don his countrymen in their distress, he sent his son to Rome, 
 with orders to sell part of his estate, and bring him the money 
 immediately. This was punctually performed by his son, and 
 Fabius redeemed the prisoners; several of whom afterwards 
 offered to repay him, but his generosity would not permit him 
 to accept it. 
 
 After this he was called to Rome by the priests, to assist at 
 some of the solemn sacrifices, and therefore was obliged to 
 leave the army to Minutius; but he both charged him as dic¬ 
 tator, and used many arguments and entreaties with him as a 
 friend, not to come to any kind of action. The pains he took 
 were lost upon Minutius, for he immediately sought occasions 
 to fight the enemy; and observing one flay that Hannibal had 
 
 * Livy calls this argcnti pondu bina et selibras in miiitem; whence we lean: * 
 that the Homan pondo, or pound weight of silver, was equivalent to one 
 hundred Grecian drachmas , or a mina . 
 
FABIUS MAXIMUS. 
 
 343 
 
 sent out great part of his army to forage, he attacked those thaf 
 were left behind, and drove them within their entrenchments, 
 killing great numbers of them, so that they even feared he 
 would storm their camp; and when the rest of the Carthagi¬ 
 nian forces were returned, he retreated without loss.* This 
 success added to his temerity, and increased the ardour of his 
 soldiers. The report of it soon reached Rome, and the advan¬ 
 tage was represented as much greater than it really was. When 
 Fabius was informed of it, he said, he dreaded nothing more 
 than the success of Minutius. Bat the people, mightily elated 
 with the news, ran to the forum; and their tribune Metilius 
 harangued them from the rostrum -, highly extolling Minutius, 
 and accusing Fabius now, not of cowardice and want of spirit, 
 but of treachery. He endeavoured also to involve the prin¬ 
 cipal men in Rome in the same crime, alleging,—“ that they 
 had originally brought the war upon Italy for the destruction 
 of the common people, and had put the commonwealth under 
 the absolute direction of one man, who, by his slow proceed 
 ings, gave Hannibal opportunity to establish himself in the 
 country, and to draw fresh forces from Carthage, in order to 
 effect a total conquest of Italy. ” 
 
 Fabius disdained to make any defence against these allega 
 tions of the tribune; he only declared, that 66 He would finish 
 the sacrifice, and other religious rites, as soon as possible, that 
 he might return to the army, and punish Minutius for fighting 
 contrary to his orders . 99 This occasioned a great tumult 
 imong the people, who were alarmed at the danger of Minu¬ 
 tius. For it is in the dictator’s power to imprison and inflict 
 capital punishment, without form or trial; and they thought 
 that the wrath of Fabius, now provoked, though he was natu¬ 
 rally very mild and patient, would prove heavy and implaca¬ 
 ble. But fear kept them all silent, except Metilius, whose 
 person, as tribune of the people, could not to be touched, (for 
 the tribunes are the only officers of state that retain their au¬ 
 thority after the appointing of a dictator). Metilius entreated, 
 insisted that the people should not give up Minutius, to suffer, 
 perhaps, what Manlius Torquatus caused his own son to suffer, 
 whom he beheaded, when crowned with laurel for his victo¬ 
 ry, but that they should take from Fabius his power to play 
 the tyrant, and leave the direction of affairs.to one who was 
 both able and willing to save his country. The people, though 
 much affected with this speech, did not venture to divest Fa¬ 
 bius of the dictatorship, notwithstanding the odium he had in- 
 
 * Others say, that he lost five thousand of his men, ar c! that the enemy’* 
 k*s did not exceed his by more than a thousand. 
 
344 
 
 FABIUS MAXIMUS. 
 
 cur red, but decreed that Minutius should share the command 
 with him, and have equal authority in conducting the war; a 
 thing never before practised in Rome. There was, however, 
 another instance of it soon after, upon the unfortunate action 
 of Cannae; for Marcus Junius the dictator, being then in the 
 field, they created another dictator, Fabius Buteo, to fill up 
 the senate, many of whose members were slain in that battle. 
 There was this difference, indeed, that Buteo had no sooner 
 enrolled the new senators, than he dismissed his lictors , and the 
 rest of his retinue, and mixed with the crowd, stopping some 
 time in th e forum about his own affairs as a private man. 
 
 When the people had thus invested Minutius with a power 
 equal to that of the dictator, they thought they should find 
 Fabius extremely humbled and dejected; but it soon appeared 
 that they knew not the man. For he did not reckon their 
 mistake any unhappiness to him; but, as Diogenes the philoso 
 pher, when one said,—“ They deride you,” answered,— 
 “ Well, but I am not derided;” accounting those only to be 
 ridiculed, who feel the ridicule, and are discomposed at it; so 
 Fabius bore, without emotion, all that happened to himself, 
 herein confirming that position in philosophy, which affirms 
 that a wise and good man can suffer no disgrace . But he was un¬ 
 der no small concern for the public, on account of the unadvis¬ 
 ed proceedings of the people, who had put it in the power of a 
 rash man to indulge his indiscreet ambition tor military dis¬ 
 tinction; and apprehensive that Minutius, infatuated with am¬ 
 bition, might take some fatal step, he left Rome very privately. 
 
 Upon his arrival at the camp, he found the arrogance of Mi 
 nutius grown to such a height, that it was no longer to be en 
 dured. Fabius, therefore, refused to comply with his demand 
 of having the army under his orders every other day, and, in¬ 
 stead of that, divided the forces with him, choosing rather to 
 have the full command of a part, than the direction of the whole 
 by turns. He therefore took the first and fourth legions him¬ 
 self, leaving the second and third to Minutius; and the confed¬ 
 erate forces were likewise equally divided. 
 
 Minutius valued himself highly upon this, that the power 
 of the greatest and most arbitrary office in the state was con¬ 
 trolled and reduced for his sake. But Fabius put him in mind, 
 “That it was not Fabius whom he had to contend with, but 
 Hannibal; that if he would, notwithstanding, consider his col¬ 
 league, as his rival, he must take care lest he who had so suc¬ 
 cessfully carried his point with the people, should one day ap 
 pear to have their safety and interest less at heart than the man 
 who had beeji so ill treated by them.” Minutius considering 
 this as the effect of an ob3 man's pique, and taking the trcF/Ds 
 
FABIUS MAXIMUS. 
 
 d45 
 
 that tell to his lot, marked out a separate can p for them.* 
 Hannibal was well informed of all that passed, and watched 
 his opportunity to take advantage of it. 
 
 There was a hill betwixt him and the enemy, not difficult to 
 take possession of, which yet would afford an army a very safe 
 and commodious post. The ground about it, at a distance, 
 seemed quite level and plain, though there were in it several 
 ditches and hollows: and, therefore, though he might privately 
 have seized that post with ease, yet he left it as a bait to draw 
 the enemy to an engagement. But as soon as he saw Minu 
 tius parted from Fabius, he took an opportunity in the night 
 to place a numbert of men in those ditches and hollows; and 
 early in the morning he openly sent out a small party, as if 
 designed to make themselves masters of the hill, but really to 
 draw Minutius to dispute it with them. The event answered 
 his expectation; for Minutius sent out his light-armed troops 
 first, then the cavalry, and at last, when he saw Hannibal send 
 reinforcements to his men upon the hill, he marched out with 
 all his forces in order of battle, and attacked with great vi¬ 
 gour the Carthaginians, who were marking out a camp upon 
 the hill. The fortune of the day was doubtful, until Hanni¬ 
 bal, perceiving that the enemy had fallen into the snare, and 
 that their rear was open to the ambuscade, instantly gave the 
 signal. Hereupon his men rushed out on all sides, and ad¬ 
 vanced with loud shouts, and cutting in pieces the hindmost 
 ranks, they put the Romans in disorder and terror inexpressi¬ 
 ble. Even the spirit of Minutius began to shrink; and he 
 looked first upon one officer and then upon another, but not 
 one of them durst stand his ground: they all betook them¬ 
 selves to flight, and the flight itself proved fatal; for the Nu- 
 midians, now victorious, galloped round the plain, and killed 
 those whom they found dispersed. 
 
 Fabius was not ignorant of the danger of his countrymen. 
 Foreseeing what would happen, he kept his forces under arms, 
 and took care to be informed how the action went on: nor did 
 he trust to the reports of others, but he himself looked out 
 from an eminence not far from his camp. When he saw the 
 army of his colleague surrounded and broken, and the cry- 
 reached him, not like that of men standing the charge, but of 
 persons flying in great dismay, J he smote upon his thigh, ana 
 
 * About fifteen hundred paces from Fabius. 
 
 j- Five hundred horse and five thousand foot.— Polyb. 
 
 i Homer mentions the custom of smiting 1 upon the thigh in time of trou* 
 hie K cti a>' 7rt?rHnyrro ynftto' and we learn from scripture, that it was prac¬ 
 tised in the east. 
 
 Compare Horn. II. / u. v. 162, and this passage of Plutarch, with Jer. xxxi. 
 19, and Fzek. xxi. 12. 
 
 Vol. I.-o z 
 
 31 
 
346 
 
 FABIUS MAXIMUS. 
 
 with a deep sigh said to his friends about him,—“ Ye gods! 
 how much sooner than I expected, and yet later than his in¬ 
 discreet proceedings required, has Minutius ruined himself! 55 
 Then having commanded the standard-bearers to advance, and 
 the whole army to follow, he addressed them in these words’ 
 “ Now, my brave soldiers, if any one has a regard for Marcus 
 Minutius, let him exert himself; for he deserves assistance foi 
 his valour and the love he bears his country. If, in his haste 
 to drive out the enemy, he has committed any error, this is 
 not a time to find fault with him. 55 
 
 The first sight of Fabius frightened away the Numidia is. 
 who were picking up stragglers in the field. Then he attacl ed 
 those who were charging the Romans in the rear. Such as 
 made resistance he slew; but the greatest part retreated to 
 their own army, before the communication was cut off, lest 
 they should themselves be surrounded in their turn. Han¬ 
 nibal seeing this change of fortune, and finding that Fabius 
 pushed on through the hottest of the battle, with a vigour 
 above his years, to come up to Minutius upon the hill, put an 
 end to the dispute, and having sounded a retreat, retired into 
 his camp. The Romans, on their part, were not sorry when 
 the action was over. Hannibal, as he was drawing off, is re¬ 
 ported to have said smartly to those that were by,—“Did not 
 I often tell you, that this cloud would one day burst upon us 
 from the mountains, with all the fury of a storm? 55 
 
 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 Minutius, having called his men to¬ 
 gether, he thus expressed himself:—“ Friends and fellow-sol¬ 
 diers, not to err at all in the management of great affairs, is 
 above the wisdom of men; but it is the part of a pruds°nt and 
 good man, to learn, from his errors and miscarriages, to cor¬ 
 rect himself for the future. For my nart, I confes*, 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 moment 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 dicta¬ 
 tor shall be your commander; 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. 55 
 
 He then ordered the ensigns to advance with the eagles, and 
 the troops to follow, himself marching at the head, to the camp 
 of Fabius. Being admitted, he went directly to his tent 
 
FABIUS MAXIMUS. 
 
 347 
 
 The whole army waited with impatience for the event When 
 Fabius came out, Minutius 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 Patrons , an 
 appellation which freed-men gave to those that enfranchise 
 them. These respects being paid, and silence taken place, 
 Minutius thus addressed himself to the dictator:—“ You have 
 this day, Fabius, obtained 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, by the lat¬ 
 ter you have instructed us; and Hannibal’s victory over us, is 
 not more disgraceful than your’s 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 him¬ 
 self into the arms of Fabius, and the soldiers of each army 
 embraced one another, with every expression of tenderness, 
 and with tears of joy. 
 
 Not long after this, Fabius laid down the dictatorship, and 
 consuls were created.* The first of these kept to the plans 
 which Fabius had laid down. He took care not to come to a 
 pitched battle with Hannibal, but sent succours to the allies of 
 Rome, and prevented any revolt in their cities. But when 
 Terentius Varro,t a man of obscure birth, and remarkable 
 only for his temerity and servile complaisance to the people, 
 rose to the consulship, it soon appeared that his boldness and 
 inexperience would bring him to risk the very being of the 
 commonwealth; for he loudly insisted in the assemblies of the 
 people, that the war stood still whilst it was under the con¬ 
 duct of the Fabii; but for his part he would take but one day 
 to get sight of the enemy, and to beat him. With these pro¬ 
 mises he so prevailed on the multitude, that he raised greater 
 forces than Rome had ever had on foot before in her most dan¬ 
 gerous w’ars; for he musteredJ no fewer than eighty-eight 
 
 * According 1 to Livy, Fabius, after the six months of his dictatorship were 
 expired, resigned the army to the consuls of that year, Servilius and Ati- 
 lius; the latter having 1 been appointed in the room of Flaminius, who was 
 killed in battle. But Plutarch follows Polybius, who says, that as the time 
 for the election of new consuls approached, the Romans named L. JEmilius 
 Paulus and Terentius Varro consuls, after which the dictators resigned 
 their charge. 
 
 t Varro was the son of a butcher, and had followed his father’s profession 
 is youth; but growing rich he had forsaken that mean calling; and, by 
 the favour of the people, procured by supporting the most turbulent of 
 their tribunes, he obtained the consulate. 
 
 t It was usual with the Romans to muster every year four legions, which 
 consisting, in difficult times, each of five thousand Roman foot, ano thre* 
 
348 
 
 FABIUS MAXIMUS 
 
 thousand men. Hereupon Fabius, and otherwise and expen 
 enced persons among the Romans, were greatly alarmed; be¬ 
 cause they saw no resource for the state, if such a number of 
 their youth should be cut off. They addressed themselves, 
 therefore, to the other consul, Paulus iEmilius, a man of great 
 experience in war, but disagreeable to the people, and at the 
 same time afraid of them, for they had formerly set a consi¬ 
 derable fine upoa him. Fabius, however, encouraged him to 
 withstand the temerity of his colleague, telling him,—“That 
 the dispute he had to support for his country was not so much 
 with Hannibal as with Varro. The latter,” said he, “will 
 hasten to an engagement,* because he knows not his own 
 strength; and the former because he knows his own weakness. 
 But believe me, iEmilius, I deserve more attention than Varro, 
 with respect to the affairs of Hannibal; and I do assure you, 
 that if the Romans come to no battle with him this year, he 
 will either be undone by his stay in Italy, or else be obliged 
 to quit it. Even now when he seems to be victorious, and to 
 •carry all before him, notone of his enemies has quitted the 
 Roman interest, and not a third part of the forces remains, 
 which he brought from home with him.” To this iEmilius 
 is said to have answered,—“My friend, when I consider my¬ 
 self only, I conclude it better for me to fall upon the weapons 
 of the enemy than by the sentence of my own countrymen. 
 However, since the state of public affairs is so critical, I will 
 endeavour to approve myself a good general, and had rather 
 appear such to you than to all who oppose you, and who would 
 draw me, willing or unwilling, to their party.” With these 
 sentiments ^Emilius began his operations. 
 
 But Varro, having brought his colleague to agree,t that they 
 should command alternately each his day, when his turn came, 
 took post over against Hannibal, on the banks of the Aufidus, 
 near the village of Cannae, f As soon as it was light he gave 
 
 hundred horse and a battalion of Latins equal to that number, amounted 
 in the whole to 42,400. But this year instead of four leg-ions, they raised 
 eight. 
 
 * The best dependence of Varro was, undoubtedly, to prolong the war, 
 that Hannibal, who was already weakened, might wear himself out by de- 
 grees; and, for the same reason, it was Hannibal’s business to fight. 
 
 f It was a fixed rule with the Romans, that the consuls, when they went 
 upon the same service, should have the command of the army by turns. 
 
 + Cannae, according to Livy, Appian, and Florus, was only a poor village, 
 which afterwards became famous on account of the battle fought near it; 
 but Polybius, who lived near the time of the second Punic war, styles 
 Cannae a city; and adds, that it had been razed a year before the defeat of 
 the Roman army. Silius Italicus agrees with Polybius. It was afterward* 
 rebuilt; for Pliny ranks it among the cities of Apulia. The ruins of Canna 
 are still to be seen in the territory of Bari. 
 
FABIUS MAXIMUS. 
 
 34<* 
 
 the signal for battle, which is a red mantle set up over the 
 general’s tent. The Carthaginians were.a little disheartened 
 at first, when they saw how daring the consul was, and that 
 his army was more than twice their number. But Hannibal 
 having ordered them to arm, himself, with a few others, rode 
 up to an eminence, to take a view of the enemy now drawn 
 up for battle. One Gisco, that accompanied him, a man of his 
 own rank, happening to say ,— 66 The numbers of the enemy 
 appeared to him surprising,” Hannibal replied, with a serious 
 countenance,—“ There is another thing which has escaped 
 your observation, much more surprising than that.” Upon 
 his asking what it was,—“ It is,” said he, “ that among such 
 numbers, not one of them is named Gisco.” The whole com¬ 
 pany were diverted with the humour of his observation; and as 
 they returned to the camp, they told the jest to those they 
 met, so that the laugh became universal. At sight of this the 
 Carthaginians took courage, thinking it must proceed from the 
 great contempt in which their general held the Romans, that 
 he could jest and laugh in the face of danger. 
 
 In this battle Hannibal gave great proofs of generalship. 
 In the first place, he took advantage of the ground, to post his 
 men with their backs to the wind, which was then very violent 
 and scorching, and drove from the dry plains, over the heads 
 of the Carthaginians, clouds of sand and dust into the eyes 
 and nostrils of the Romans, so that they were obliged to turn 
 away their faces, and break their ranks. In the next place, 
 his troops were drawn up with superior art. He placed the 
 flower of them in the wings, and those upon whom he had less 
 dependence in the main corps, which was considerably more 
 advanced than the wings. Then he commanded those in the 
 wings, that when the enemy had charged, and vigorously 
 pushed that advanced body, which he knew would give way, 
 and open a passage for them to the very centre, and when the 
 Romans by this means should be far enough engaged within 
 the two wings, they should both on the right and left take them 
 in flank, and endeavour to surround them.* This was the 
 principal cause of the great carnage that followed; for the ene¬ 
 my pressing upon Hannibal’s front, which gave ground, the 
 form of his army was changed into a half moon; and the offi¬ 
 cers of the select troops caused the two points of the wings to 
 join behind the Romans. Thus they were exposed to the at¬ 
 tacks of the Carthaginians on all sides; an incredible slaughtei 
 followed; nor did any escape but the few that retreated before 
 the main body was enclosed, 
 
 * Five hundred Numidians pretended to desert to the Romans: butii lie 
 heat of the battle turned against them, and attacked them in the rear, 
 
 31 * 
 
350 
 
 FABIUS MAXIMUS. 
 
 It is also said, that a strange and fatal accident happened t« 
 the Roman cavalry; for the horse which AEmilius rode, hav¬ 
 ing received some hurt, threw him; and those about him 
 alighting to assist and defend the consul on foot, the rest of 
 the cavalry seeing this, and taking it for a signal for them to 
 do the same, all quitted their horses and charged on foot. At 
 sight of this, Hannibal said,—“ This pleases me better than if 
 they had been delivered to me bound hand and foot.” But 
 the particulars may be found at large in the historians who 
 have described this battle. 
 
 As to the consuls, Varro escaped with a few horse to Venu- 
 tia; and iEmilius, covered with darts which stuck in his 
 wounds, sat down in anguish and despair, waiting for the ene¬ 
 my to despatch him. His head and his face were so disfigured 
 and stained with blood, that it was not easy to know him; 
 even his friends and servants passed by him without stopping 
 At last Cornelius Lentulus, a young man of a 'patrician family, 
 perceiving who he was, dismounted, and entreated him to take 
 nis horse, and save himself for the commonwealth, which had 
 then more occasion than ever for so good a consul. But no¬ 
 thing could prevail upon him to accept of the offer; and, not¬ 
 withstanding the young man’s tears, he obliged him to mount 
 his horse again. Then rising up, and taking him by the hand, 
 “Tell Fabius Maximus,” said he “and, Lentulus, do you 
 yourself be witness,* that Paulus iEmilius followed his direc¬ 
 tions to the last, and did not deviate in the least from the plan 
 agreed upon between them, but was first overcome by Varro, 
 and then by Hannibal.” Having despatched Lentulus with 
 this commission, he rushed among the enemy’s swords, and 
 was slain. Fifty thousand Romans are said to have fallen in 
 this battle,t and four thousand to have been taken prisoners, 
 beside ten thousand that were taken after the battle in both 
 camps. 
 
 After this great success, Hannibal’s friends advised him to 
 pursue his fortune, and to enter Rome along with the fugi¬ 
 tives, assuring him that in five days he might sup in the Capi¬ 
 tol. It is not easy to conjecture what his reason was for not 
 
 * K ett yua (A&grvs etwee. 
 
 f According' to Livy, there were killed of the Romans only forty thousand 
 foot, and two thousand seven hundred horse. Pol) bius says that seventy 
 thousand were killed. The loss of the Carthaginians did not amount to six 
 thousand. 
 
 When the Carthaginians were stripping the dead, among other moving 
 objects they found, to their great surprise, a Numidian, yet alive, lying un¬ 
 der the dead body of a Roman, who had thrown himself headlo ng on his 
 enemy, and heat .him down; but being no longer able to make use of his 
 weapons, because he had lost his hands, had torn off the nose and ears of the 
 Numidian with his teeth, and in that fit of rage expired. 
 
FABITJS MAXIMUS. 
 
 351 
 
 taking this step. Most probably some deity opposed it, and 
 therefore inspired him with this hesitation and timidity. On 
 this account it was that a Carthaginian, named Barca, said tc 
 him w T ith some heat ,—“ Hannibal, you know how to gain a 
 victory, but not how to use it.”* 
 
 The battle of Cannae, however, made such an alteration in 
 his affairs, that though before it he had neither town, nor 
 magazine, nor port in Italy, but, without any regular supplies 
 for the war, subsisted his army by rapine, and for that pur¬ 
 pose moved them, like a great band of robbers from place to 
 place; yet then he became master of the greatest part of Italy; 
 its best provinces and towns voluntarily submitted to him; 
 and Capua itself, the most respectable city after Rome, threw 
 its weight into his scale. 
 
 In this case it appeared that great misfortunes are not only, 
 what Euripides calls them, a trial of the fidelity of a friend, 
 but of the capacity and conduct of a general. For the pro¬ 
 ceedings of Fabius, which before this battle were deemed cold 
 and timid, then appeared to be directed by counsels more than 
 human; to be indeed the dictates of a divine wisdom, which 
 penetrated into futurity at such a distance, and foresaw what 
 seemed incredible to the very persons who experienced it. In 
 him, therefore, Rome places her last hope; his judgment is 
 the temple, the altar, to which she flies for refuge, believing 
 that to his prudence it was chiefly owing that she still held up 
 her head, and that her children were not dispersed, as when 
 she was taken by the Gauls. For he who, in times of appa¬ 
 rent security, seemed to be deficient in confidence and resolu¬ 
 tion, now, when all abandoned themselves to inexpressible 
 sorrow and helpless despair, alone walked about the city with 
 a calm and easy pace, with a firm countenance, a mild and 
 gracious address, checking their effeminate lamentations, and 
 preventing them from assembling in public to bewail their 
 common distress. He caused the senate to meet; he encou¬ 
 raged the magistrates, himself being the soul of their body, 
 
 • Zonarus tells us, that Hannibal himself afterwards acknowledged his 
 mistake in not pursuing that day’s success, and used often to cry out, O 
 Cannae, Cannae! 
 
 But, on the other hand, it may be pleaded, in defence of Hannibal, that 
 the advantages he had gained were chiefly owing to his cavalry, who could 
 not act in a siege: that the inhabitants of Rome were all bred up to arms 
 fiom their infancy; would use their utmost efforts in defence of their wives, 
 their children, and their domestic gods; and, when sheltered by walls and 
 ramparts, would probably be invincible: That they had as many generals as 
 senators: That no one nation of Italy had yet declared for him, and he might 
 judge it necessary to gain some of them before he attempted the capital- 
 And lastly, that if he had attempted the capital first, and without success, 
 e would not have been able to gain any one nation or city. 
 
352 
 
 FABIUS MAXIMUS 
 
 lor all waited his motion, and were ready to obey his orders, 
 he placed a guard at the gates, to hinder such of the people as 
 were inclined to fly from quitting the city; he fixed both the 
 place and time for mourning, allowed thirty days for that pur¬ 
 pose in a man’s own house, and no more for the city in gene 
 ral; and as the feast of Ceres fell within that time, it was 
 thought better entirely to omit the solemnity, than by the small 
 numbers, and the melancholy looks of those that should attend 
 it, to discover the greatness Gf their loss;* for the worship 
 most acceptable to the gods is that which comes from cheerful 
 hearts. Indeed, whatever the augurs ordered for propitiating 
 the divine powers, and averting inauspicious omens, was care¬ 
 fully performed; for Fabius Fictor, the near relation of Fabius 
 Maximus, was sent to consult the oracle at Delphi; and of the 
 two vestals who were then found guilty of a breach of their 
 vow of chastity, one was buried alive, according to custom, 
 and the other died by her own hand. 
 
 But what most deserves to be admired, is the magnanimity 
 and temper of the Romans, when the consul Varro returned 
 after his defeat,t much humbled and very melancholy, as one 
 who had occasioned the greatest calamity and disgrace ima 
 ginable to the republic. The whole senate and people went to 
 welcome him at the gates; and, when silence was commanded, 
 the magistrates and principal senators, amongst whom was 
 Fabius,, commended him for not g'vmg up the circumstances 
 of the state as desperate after so great a misfortune, but re¬ 
 turning to take upon him the administration', and to make 
 what advantage he could for his country of the laws and citi¬ 
 zens, as not being utterly lost and ruined. 
 
 When they found that Hannibal, after the battle, instead of 
 marching to Rome, turned to another part of Italy, they took 
 courage, and sent their armies and generals into the field. 
 The most eminent of these were Fabius Maximus and Claudi 
 us Marcellus, men distinguished by characters almost entirely 
 opposite. Marcellus (as we have mentioned in his life) was 
 a man of a buoyant and animated valour, remarkably well 
 
 * This was not the real cause of deferring* the festival, but that which Plu¬ 
 tarch hints at just after, viz. because it was unlawful for persons in mourn 
 ing* to celebrate it; and at that time there was not one matron in Rome who 
 was not in mourning*. In fact, the feast was not entirely omitted, but kept 
 as soon as the mourning was expired. 
 
 j- Valerius Maximus tells us (lib. iii. c. 6,) that the senate and people of¬ 
 fered Varro the dictatorship, which he refused, and by his modest refusal, 
 vviped off, in some measure, the shame of his former behaviour. Thus the 
 Romans, by treating their unfortunate commanders with humanity, lessened 
 the disgrace of their being vanquished or discharged, while the Carthaginian* 
 condemned their generals to cruel deaths, upon their being overcome, though 
 it was often \» i*’\out their own fault- 
 
FAB1US MAXIMUS. 
 
 353 
 
 skilled in the use of weapons, and naturally enterprising; such 
 an one, in short as Homer calls lofty in heart , in courage fierce , 
 in war delighting. So intrepid a general was very fit to be 
 opposed to an enemy as daring as himself, to restore the cou¬ 
 rage and spirits of the Romans, by some vigorous stroke in 
 the first engagements. As for Fabius, he kept to his first sen¬ 
 timents, and hoped, that if he only followed Hannibal close, 
 without fighting him, he and his army would wear themselves 
 ou f :, and lose their warlike vigour, just as a wrestler does, who 
 keeps continually in the ring, and allows himself no repose to 
 recruit his strength after excessive fatigues. Hence it was 
 that the Romans (as Posidonius tells us) called Fabius their 
 shield , and Marcel!us their sword , and used to say, that the 
 steadiness and caution of the one, mixed with the vivacity and 
 Boldness of the other, made a compound very salutary to 
 Rome. Hannibal, therefore, often meeting Marcellus, whose 
 motions were like those of a torrent, found his forces broken 
 and diminished; ard by Fabius, who moved with a silent but 
 constant stream, h^ was undermined and insensibly weakened. 
 Such, at length, was the extremity he was reduced to, that he 
 was tired of fightmg Marcellus, and afraid of Fabius. And 
 these were the persons he had generally to do with during the 
 remainder of the war, as praetors, consuls, or proconsuls; for 
 each of them w°s five times consul. It is true, Marcellus, in 
 his fifth consulate, was drawn into his snares, and killed, by 
 means of an ambuscade. Hannibal often made the like at¬ 
 tempts upon Fabius, exerting all his arts and stratagems, but 
 without effect Once only he deceived him, and had nearly 
 led him into a fatal error. He forged letters to him, as from 
 the principal inhabitants of Metapontum, offering to delivei 
 up the city to him, and assuring him that those who had taken 
 this resolution,- only waited till he appeared before it. Fabius, 
 giving credit to these letters, ordered a party to be ready, in¬ 
 tending to march thither in the night; but finding the auspices 
 unpromismg, he altered his design, and soon after discovered 
 that the letters were forged by an artifice of Hannibal’?, and 
 that he was lying in ambush for him near the town. But this, 
 perhaps, may be ascribed to the favour and protection of the 
 gods. 
 
 Fabius was persuaded that it was better to keep the cities 
 from revolting, and to prevent any commotions among the 
 allies, oy affability and mildness, than to entertain every sus- 
 
 i iicion, or to use severity against those whom he did suspect, 
 [t is reported of him, that being informed that a certain Mar¬ 
 xian in his army,* who was a man not inferior in courage or 
 
 * Livy tells this story of Marcellus, which Plutarch here applies to Fabuts 
 
 Vox I -3 A 
 
354 
 
 FABIUS MAXIMUS. 
 
 family to any among the allies, solicited some of his men U 
 desert, he did not treat him harshly, but acknowledged that 
 he had been too much neglected; declaring, at the sam° time, 
 that he was now perfectly sensible how much his officers had 
 been to blame, in distributing honours more out of favour 
 than regard to merit; and that, for the future, he should take 
 it ill if he did not apply to him when he had any request to 
 make. This was followed with a present of a war-horse, and 
 with other marks of honour; and from that time the man be¬ 
 haved with great fidelity and zeal for the service. Fabius 
 thought it hard, that, while those that bred dogs and horses 
 soften their stubborn tempers, and bring down their fierce 
 spirits, by care and kindness, rather than with whips and 
 chains, he who has the command of men should not endeavour 
 to correct their errors by gentleness and goodness, but treat 
 them even in a harsher and more violent manner than garden¬ 
 ers do the wild fig-trees, wild pears and olives, whose nature 
 they subdue by cultivation, and which, by that means, they 
 bring to produce very agreeable fruit. 
 
 Another time, some of his officers informed him, that one 
 of the soldiers, a native of Lucania, often quitted his post, 
 and rambled out of the camp. Upon this report, he asked 
 what kind of a man he was in other respects; and they all de¬ 
 clared it was not easy to find so good a soldier, doing him the 
 justice to mention several extraordinary instances of his valour. 
 On inquiring into the cause of this irregularity, he found that 
 the man was passionately in love, and that, for the sake of see¬ 
 ing a young woman, he ventured out of the camp, and took a 
 long and dangerous journey, every night. Hereupon Fabius 
 gave orders to some of his men to find out the woman, and 
 convey her into his own tent, but took care that the Lucanian 
 should not know it. Then he sent for him, and taking him 
 aside, spoke to him as follows:—“ I very well know that you 
 have lain many nights out of the camp, in breach of the Ro¬ 
 man discipline and laws; at the same time, I am not ignorant 
 of your past services. In consideration of them, I forgive 
 your present crime; but, for the future, I will give you ir* 
 charge to a person who shall be answerable for you.” While 
 the soldier stood much amazed, Fabius produced the worn a a 
 and putting her in his hands, thus expressed himself :—“ This 
 is the person who engages for you, that you will remain in 
 camp, and now we shall see whether there was not some trai¬ 
 torous design which drew you out, and which you made the 
 love of this woman a cloak for. ” Such is the account we have 
 of this affair. 
 
 By means of another love-affair, Fabius recovered the cityr 
 f Tarentum, which had been treache 'ously delivered up tc 
 
FABIUS MAXIMUS. 
 
 35i 
 
 Hannibal. A young man, a native of that place, who served 
 under Fabius, had a sister there, who loved him with grea 
 tenderness. This youth being informed that a certain Bru¬ 
 tian,* one of the officers of the garrison which Hannibal had 
 put in Tarentum, entertained a violent passion for his sister, 
 hoped to avail himself of this circumstance to the advantage 
 of the Romans. Therefore, with the permission of Fabius, 
 he returned to his sister at Tarentum, under colour of having 
 deserted. Some days passed, during which the Brutian for¬ 
 bore his visits, for she supposed that her brother knew nothing 
 of the amour. This obliged the young man to come to an ex¬ 
 planation:—“ It has been currently reported,” said he, “ that 
 you receive addresses from a man of some distinction. Pray 
 who is he? If he is a man of honour and character, as they say 
 he is, Mars, who confounds all things, takes but little thought 
 of what country he may be. What necessity imposes is no 
 disgrace; but we may rather think ourselves fortunate, at a 
 ;ime when justice yields to force, if that which force might 
 compel us to, happens not to be disagreeable to our own incli¬ 
 nations.” Thus encouraged, the young woman sent for the 
 Brutian, and presented him to her brother. And as she be¬ 
 haved to him in a kinder and more complying manner, through 
 her brother’s means, who was very indulgent to his passion, 
 it was not very difficult to prevail with the Brutian, who was 
 deeply in love, and was withal & mercenary,t to deliver up the 
 town, upon promises of great rewards from Fabius. 
 
 This is the account which most historians give us; yet some 
 say, that the woman by whom the Brutian was gained, was not 
 a Tarentine, but a Brutian; that she had been concubine to Fa¬ 
 bius; and that when she found the governor of Tarentum was 
 her countryman and acquaintance, she told Fabius of it, and 
 finding means, by approaching the walls, to make him a pro¬ 
 posal, she drew him over to the Roman interest. 
 
 During these transactions, Fabius, in order to make a diver¬ 
 sion, gave directions to the garrison of Rhegium, to lay waste 
 the Brutian territories, and, if possible, to make themselves 
 masters of Caulonia. These were a body of eight thousand 
 men, composed partly of deserters and partly of the most 
 worthless of that infamous band brought by Marcellus out of 
 Sicily, X and therefore the loss of them would not be great, nor 
 
 *T»v <TircLy/uevcv * vtc 9 A vvi@x mv 7ro\tv /» \<p 9 vyt/uovicte. 
 
 f A t^pet7ra /ui7$oq>c,p>i -. This' has been mistranslated a man of a mer¬ 
 
 cenary dispositim. T u ~ words only import that he was not of Hannibal’s 
 own troops, but of the mercenaries. Hence all governments should learn 
 to beware how they entrust d towns with garrisons of hired troops and 
 strangers. 
 
 i These men were brouglV A, om Si. ‘ * • * * Mr Marcellus, but by his col 
 league Lxvinti* 
 
356 
 
 FABIUS MAXIMUS. 
 
 much lamented by the Romans. These men he threw out as 
 a Dait for Hannibal, and by sacrificing them, hoped to draw 
 him to a distance from Tarentum. The design succeeded ac¬ 
 cordingly; for Hannibal marched with his forces to Caulonia, 
 and Fabius.in the mean time laid siege to Tarentum. The 
 sixth day of the siege, the young man having settled tne mat¬ 
 ter with the Brutian officer, by means of his sister, and having 
 well observed the place where he kept guard, and promised to 
 let in the Romans, went to Fabius by night and gave him an 
 account of it. The consul moved to the appointed quarter, 
 though not entirely depending upon the promise that the town 
 would be betrayed. There he himself sat still, but at the same 
 time ordered an assault on every other part, both by sea and 
 land. This was put in execution with great noise and tumult, 
 which drew most of the Tarentines that way, to assist the 
 garrison, and repel the besiegers. Then the Brutian giving 
 Fabius the signal, he scaled the walls, and got possession of 
 the town. 
 
 On this occasion Fabius seems to have indulged a criminal 
 ambition.* For that it might not appear that the place was 
 betrayed to him, he ordered the Brutians to be first put to the 
 sword. But he failed in his design; for the former suspicion 
 still remained, and he incurred, besides, the reproach of per¬ 
 fidy and inhumanity. Many of the Tarentines also were kill¬ 
 ed; thirty thousand of them were sold for slaves; the army 
 had the plunder of the town, and three thousand talents were 
 brought into the public treasury. Whilst every thing was 
 ransacked, and the spoils were heaped before Fabius, it is re¬ 
 ported that the officer who took the inventory, asked, “ What 
 he would have them do with the gods?” meaning the statues 
 and pictures: Fabius answered, “ Let us leave the Tarentines 
 their angry gods.t However, he carried away a colossus of 
 Hercules, which he afterwards set up in the Capitol, and near 
 it an equestrian statue of himself in brass, % Thus he showed 
 himself inferior to Marcellus in his taste for the fine arts, and 
 still more so in mercy and humanity. Marcellus in this re¬ 
 spect had greatly the advantage, as we have already observed 
 in his life. 
 
 Hannibal had hastened to the relief of Tarentum; and being 
 
 * Livy does not say that Fabius gave such orders. He only says, “ There 
 were many Brutians slain, either through ignorance, or through the ancient 
 hatred which the Romans bore them, or because the Romans were desirous 
 that Tarentum should seem to be taken sw ord in hand, rather than betray¬ 
 ed to them. ,, 
 
 -(■The gods were in the attitude of combatants: and they appeared to have 
 fought against the Tarentines, 
 
 t The w r ork of Lysippus. 
 
FABIUS MAXIMUS, 
 
 within five miles of it, when it was taken, he scrupled not tc 
 say publicly, “ The Romans, too, have their Hannibal; for we 
 have lost Tarentum in the same manner that we gained it.” 
 And, in private, he then first acknowledged to his friends, 
 “That he had always thought it difficult, but now saw it was 
 impossible, with the forces he had, to conquer Italy.” 
 
 Fabius for this was honoured with a triumph more splendid 
 than the former, having gloriously maintained the field against 
 Hannibal and baffled all his schemes with ease, just as an able 
 wrestler disengages himself from the arms of his antagonist, 
 whose grasp no longer retains the same vigour. For Hanni¬ 
 bal’s army was now partly enervated with opulence and luxu¬ 
 ry, and partly impaired and worn out with continual action. 
 
 Marcus Livius, who commanded in Tarentum when it was 
 betrayed to Hannibal, retired into the citadel, and held it 
 till the town was retaken by the Romans. This officer beheld 
 with pain the honours conferred upon Fabius; and one day 
 his envy and vanity drew from him this expression in the 
 senate: “I, not Fabius, was the cause of recovering Taren¬ 
 tum. ” True,” said Fabius laughing, “for if you had not 
 lost the town, I had never recovered it.” 
 
 Among other honours which the Romans paid to Fabius, 
 they elected his son consul. * When he had entered upon his 
 office, and was settling some point relating to the war, the 
 father, either on account of his age and infirmities, or else to 
 try his son, mounted his horse to ride up to him. The young 
 consul seeing him at a distance, would not suffer it, but sent 
 one of the liciors to his father, with orders for him to dis¬ 
 mount, and to come on foot to the consul, if he had any occa¬ 
 sion to apply to him. The whole assembly were moved at 
 this, and cast their eyes upon Fabius, by their silence and 
 their looks expressing their resentment of the indignity of¬ 
 fered to a person of his character. But he instantly alighted, 
 and ran to his son, and embraced him with great tenderness:—■ 
 “My son,” said he, “I applaud your sentiments and your 
 behaviour. You know what a people you command, and 
 have a just sense of the dignity of your office. This was the 
 way that we and our forefathers took to advance Rome to her 
 present height of glory, always considering the honour and 
 interest of our country before that of our own fathers and 
 children.” 
 
 And indeed it is reported that the great-grandfather of oui 
 Fabius,t though he was one of the greatest men in Rome, 
 
 * The son was elected consul four years before the father took Ta 
 rentun. 
 
 -f Fabius Rullus. 
 
 32 
 
358 
 
 FABIUS MAXIMUS 
 
 whether we consider his reputation or authority, though h 
 had been five times consul, and had been honoured with se¬ 
 veral glorious triumphs on account of his success in wars of the 
 last importance, yet condescended to serve as lieutenant to his 
 son, then consul,* in an expedition against the Samnites: and 
 while his son, in the triumph which was decreed him, drove 
 into Rome in a chariot and four, he, with others, followed him 
 on horseback. Thus, while he had authority over his son. 
 considered as a private man, and while he_was,t both especi¬ 
 ally and reputedly, the most considerable member of the com¬ 
 monwealth, vet he gloried in showing his subjection to the 
 laws and to the magistrate. Nor was this the only part of hi? 
 character that deserves to be admired. 
 
 When Fabius Maximus had the misfortune to lose his son 
 he bore that loss with great moderation, as became a wise man 
 and a good father; and the funeral oration,f which, on occa¬ 
 sion of the deaths of illustrious men, is usually pronounced by 
 some near kinsman, he delivered himself; and having commit¬ 
 ted it to writing, made it public. 
 
 When Publius Cornelius Scipio, who was sent proconsul 
 into Spain, had defeated the Carthaginians in many battles, 
 and driven them out of that province; and when he had, more¬ 
 over, reduced several towns and nations under the obedience 
 of Rome, on returning loaded with spoil, he was received 
 with great acclamations and general joy. Being appointed con¬ 
 sul, and finding that the people expected something great 
 and striking at his hands, he considered it as an antiquated 
 method, and worthy only of the inactivity of an old man, to 
 watch the motions of Hannibal in Italy; and therefore deter¬ 
 mined to remove the seat of war from thence into Africa, to 
 fill the enemy’s country with his legions, to extend his ravages 
 far and wide, and to attempt Carthage itself. With this view, 
 he exerted all his talents to bring the people into his design. 
 But Fabius, on this occasion, filled the city with alarms, as if 
 the commonwealth was going to be brought into the most ex¬ 
 treme danger, by a rash and indiscreet young man; in short, 
 he scrupled not to do or to say any thing he thought likely to 
 
 * Fabius Guages, who had been defeated by the Samnites, and would have 
 been degraded, had not his father promised to attend him in his second ex¬ 
 pedition as his lieutenant. 
 
 f- Kelt \v, ‘7rpoffa.yopiuc/t/.ivos - 
 
 i Cicero, in his treatise on old age, speaks in high terms, both of Fabi'us 
 and this oration of his :—“ Many extraordinary things have I known in that 
 man, but nothing more admirable than the manner in which he bore the 
 death of his son, a person of great merit and of consular dignity. His eulo- 
 gium is in our hands; and whde we *ead it, do we not look down on the 
 best of the philosophers 
 
FABIUS MAXIMUS 
 
 35S 
 
 dissuade his counti/men from embracing the proposal. With 
 the senate he carried his point. * But the people believed that 
 his opposition to Scipio proceeded either from envy of his 
 success, or from a secret fear, that if this young hero should 
 perform some signal exploit, put an end to the war, or even 
 remove it out of Italy, his own slow proceedings through the 
 course of so many years might be imputed to indolence or 
 timidity. 
 
 To me Fabius seems at first to have opposed the measures 
 cf Scipio, from an excess of caution and prudence, and to have 
 really thought the danger attending his project great; but in 
 the progress of the opposition I think he went too great lengths, 
 misled by ambition and a jealousy of Scipio’s rising glory; for 
 he applied to Crassus, the colleague of Scipio, and endeavour¬ 
 ed to persuade him not to yield that province to Scipio, but, if 
 he thought it proper to conduct the war in that manner, to go 
 himself against Carthage.t Nay, even hindered the raising 
 of money for that expedition; so that Scipio was obliged to 
 find the supplies as he could: and he effected it through his in¬ 
 terest with the cities of Hetruria, which were wholly devoted 
 to him. % As for Crassus, he staid at home, partly induced to 
 it by his disposition, which was mild and peaceful, and partly 
 by the care of religion, which was entrusted to him as high 
 priest. 
 
 Fabius, therefore, took another method to traverse the de¬ 
 sign. He endeavoured to prevent the young men, who offer¬ 
 ed to go volunteers, from giving in their names, and loudly 
 declared, both in the senate and forum, “ That Scipio did not 
 only himself avoid Hannibal, but intended to carry away with 
 him the remaining strength of Italy, persuading the young 
 men to abandon their parents, their wives, and native city, 
 whilst an unstibdued and potent enemy was still at their 
 doors. 99 With these assertions he so terrified the people, that 
 they allowed Scipio to take with him only the legions that 
 were in Sicily, and three hundred of those men who had serv¬ 
 ed him with so much fidelity in Spain. In this particular Fa¬ 
 bius seems to have followed the dictates of his own cautious 
 temper. 
 
 * See the debates in the senate on that occasion, in Livy, lib. xxviii. 
 f This Crassus could not do; for being Pontifex Maximus y it was necessa¬ 
 ry that he should remain in Italy. 
 
 i Scipio was empowered to ask of the allies all things necessary for build¬ 
 ing and equipping a new fleet. And many of the provinces and cities vo¬ 
 luntarily taxed themselves to furnish him with corn, iron, timber, cloth for 
 sails, &c. so that in forty dsys after the cutting of the timber, he was in a con¬ 
 dition to set sail with a fleet of thirty new galleys, besides the thirty he hao 
 before. There went w ; th him about seven thousand volunte* 
 
360 
 
 FABIUS MAXIMUS 
 
 After Scipio was gone over into Africa, an account was 
 soon brought to Rome of his glorious and wonderful achieve¬ 
 ments. This account was followed by rich spoils, which con¬ 
 firmed it. A Numidian king was taken prisoner; two camps 
 were burnt and destroyed, and in them a vast number of men, 
 arms, and horses; and the Carthaginians sent orders to Han¬ 
 nibal to quit his fruitless hopes in Italy, and return home to 
 defend his own country. Whilst every tongue was applaud¬ 
 ing these exploits of Scipio, Fabius proposed that his successor 
 should be appointed, without any shadow of reason for it, ex¬ 
 cept what this well-known maxim implies, viz. 66 That it is 
 dangerous to trust affairs of such importance to the fortune of 
 one man, because it is not likely that he will always be suc¬ 
 cessful.” 
 
 By this he offended the people, who now considered him as 
 a captious and envious man; or as one whose courage and 
 hopes were lost in the dregs of years, and who therefore look¬ 
 ed upon Hannibal as much more formidable than he really 
 was. Nay, even when Hannibal embarked his army, and 
 quitted Italy, Fabius ceased not to disturb the general joy, 
 and to damp the spirits of Rome. For he took the liberty to 
 affirm,—“That the commonwealth was now come to her last 
 and worst trial: that she had the most reason to dread the ef¬ 
 forts of Hannibal when he should arrive in Africa, and attack 
 her sons under the walls of Carthage; that Scipio would have 
 to do with an army yet warm with the blood of so many Ro¬ 
 man generals, dictators, and consuls,” The city was alarmed 
 with these declamations; and though the war was removed in¬ 
 to Africa, the danger seemed to approach nearer Rome than 
 ever. 
 
 However, soon after Scipio defeated Hannibal in a pitched 
 battle, pulled down the pride of Carthage, and trod it under 
 foot. This afforded the Romans a pleasure beyond all their 
 hopes, and restored a firmness to their empire, which had been 
 shaken with so many tempests. But Fabius Maximus did 
 not live to the end o? the war, to hear of the overthrow of 
 Hannibal, or to see the prosperity of his country re-establish¬ 
 ed; for about the time that Hannibal left Italy, he fell sick, 
 and died. We are assured, that Epaminondas died so poor, 
 that the Thebans buried him at the public charge; for at his 
 death nothing was found in his house but an iron spit.* The 
 
 * Xylander is of opinion, that the word c in this place does not sig¬ 
 
 nify a spit, but a piece of money,- and he shows, from a passage in the life of 
 X^ysander, that money anciently was made in a pyramidical form. But he 
 did not consider that iron money was not in use at Thebes, and Plutarch says 
 that th ; s obeliscus was of iron. 
 
PERICLES AND FABIUS MAXIMUS COMPARED. 361 
 
 expense of Fabius’s funeral was not indeed defrayed out of the 
 Roman treasury, but every citizen contributed a small piece 
 of money towards it: not that he died without effects, but that 
 they might bury him as the father of the people, and that the 
 honours paid him at his death might be suitable to the dignity 
 ol his life. 
 
 PERICLES AND FABIUS MAXIMUS 
 
 COMPARED. 
 
 Such were the lives of those two persons, so illustrious 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 Athenians 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 mor¬ 
 tifying turn of fortune, he had not to preserve the well-estab¬ 
 lished prosperity of a nourishing state, but to draw his country 
 from an abyss of misery, and raise it to happiness. Besides, 
 the successes of Cimon, the victories of Myronides and Leo- 
 crates, and the many great achievements of Tolmides, rather 
 furnished occasion to Pericles, during his administration, to 
 entertain the city with feasts and games,t than to make new 
 acquisitions, or to defend the old ones by arms. On the othei 
 hand, Fabius had the frightful objects before his eves, of de¬ 
 feats and disgraces, of Roman consuls and generals 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 commonwealth, 
 he was to support it by his counsels and his vigour, and to keep 
 it from falling into absolute ruin, to which it was brought so 
 near by the errors of former commanders. 
 
 It may seem, indeed, a less arduous performance to manage 
 the tempers of a people humbled by calamities, and compelled 
 
 * TloXXct K'JU K'JLXH TTtt^tS'iiyfJt.K'TCl K'JL<tO.XiXOt 
 ■j* ’H tinryiasLoScLi ttox^u kki <puXoi£cio-&at, 
 
 Vol. i.-3 B 32* 
 
362 PEDICLES AND FABIUS MAXIMUS COMPARED. 
 
 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 go¬ 
 vernment. But then, undauntedly to keep to his first resolu¬ 
 tions, and not to be discomposed by the vast weight of misfor¬ 
 tunes with which Rome was then oppressed, discovers in Fa- 
 bius 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 Campania. As for Capua, it was re¬ 
 covered afterwards by the consuls Furius and Appius. Fa- 
 bius 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 victo¬ 
 ries of Pericles can be compared with that memorable rescue 
 of Minutius, by which Fabius redeemed him and his whole 
 army from utter destruction; an action truly groat, 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 Hanni¬ 
 bal’s stratagem of the oxen; let his enemy slip in the night 
 through those straights in which he had been entangled by ac¬ 
 cident, and where he could not possibly have forced his way 
 out: and as soon as it was day, saw himself repulsed by the 
 man who was so lately at his mercy. 
 
 If it is the part of a good general, not only to make a pro¬ 
 per 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 Romans sent Scipio into Africa, and yet they were 
 victorious there, not by the favour of fortune, but by the cou 
 rage 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, 
 and 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 sometimes leaves too little. Thus far 
 concerning their abilities in war. 
 
 * This ciTTitpidt signifies as well, inexperience. Fabius had as much experi 
 ence as Pericles, and yet was not equ/’lv happy in his conjectures with re 
 gard to future events. 
 
PERICLES AND FABIUS MAXIMUS COMPARED. 363 
 
 And if we consider them in their political capacity, we shall 
 find that the greatest fault laid to the charge of Pericles was, 
 that he caused the Peloponnesian war, through opposition to 
 the Lacedaemonians, which made him unwilling to give up the 
 least point to them. I do not suppose that Fabius Maximus 
 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 Minutius, 
 sets in a very disadvantageous light the conduct of Pericles, 
 in his implacable persecution of 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 tha + 
 of Fabius; and therefore he did not suffer any misfortune to 
 be brought upon Athens by the wrong measures of other g.ene- 
 rals. 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 ac¬ 
 count of his superior authority; whereas, Fabius, whose mea¬ 
 sures were salutary and safe, as far as they depended upon 
 himself, appears only to have fallen short by his inability to 
 prevent the miscarriage of others. For the Romans would 
 not have had so many misfortunes to deplore, if the power of 
 Fabius had been 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 ran¬ 
 soming 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 ac¬ 
 count of his great authority; yet no man ever kept himself 
 more free from corruption. 
 
 As for the temples, the public edifices, ana ctner works, 
 with which Pericles adorned Athens, all the structures of that 
 kind in Rome put together, until the times of the Caesars, de¬ 
 served not to be compared with them, either in the greatness 
 of the design, or the excellence of the execution. 
 
 * Probably this is an error of the transcribers. For Fabius was to pay two 
 hundred and fifty drachmas for each prisoner, and he ransomed two hundred 
 and forty-seven, which would stand him sixty-one thousand seven hundred 
 and fifty drachmas, that is, more than ten talents; a very considerable ex* 
 pense to Fabius, which he could not answer without selling his es+Vce. 
 
LIFE OF ALCIBIADES. 
 
 Those that have searched into the pedigree of Alcibiades 
 &ay, that Eurysaces, the son of Ajax, was founder of the fa¬ 
 mily; and that, by his mother’s side, he was descended from 
 Alcmseon; for Dinomache his mother, was the daughter of 
 Megacles, who was of that line. His father Clinias gained 
 great honour in the sea-fight of Artemisium, where he fought 
 in a galley fitted out at his own expense, and afterwards was 
 slain in the battle of Coronae, where the Boeotians won the 
 day. Pericles and Ariphron, the sons of Xanthippus, and 
 near relations to Alcibiades, were his guardians. It is said, 
 and not without reason, that the affection and attachment of 
 Socrates contributed much to his fame. For Nicias, Demos¬ 
 thenes, Lamachus, Phormio, Thrasybulus, Theramenes, were 
 illustrious persons, and his contemporaries, yet we do not so 
 much as know the name of the mother of either of them; 
 whereas we know even the nurse of Alcibiades, that she was 
 of Lacedaemon, and that her name was Amycla; as well as 
 that Zopyrus was his schoolmaster; the one being recorded by 
 Antisthenes, and the other by Plato. 
 
 As to the beauty of Alcibiades, it may be sufficient to say, 
 that it retained its charms through the several stages of child¬ 
 hood, youth, and manhood. For it is not universally true 
 what Euripides says,— 
 
 The very autumn of a form once fine 
 
 Retains its beauties. 
 
 Yet this was the case of Alcibiades, amongst a few others, by 
 reason of his natural vigour and happy constitution. 
 
 He had a lisping in his speech, which became him, and gave 
 a grace and persuasive turn to his discourse. Aristophanes, 
 m those verses wherein he ridicules Theorus, takes notice, 
 that Alcibiades lisped, for instead of calling him Corax, Ra¬ 
 ven , he called him Colax, Flatterer; from whence the poet takes 
 occasion to observe, that the term in that lisping pronuneia 
 t\on, too, was very applicable to him. With this agrees ths 
 
ALCIBIADES. 
 
 3bo 
 
 satirical description which Archippus gives of the son of AI 
 cibiades:— 
 
 With sauntVmg’ step, to imitate his father. 
 
 The vain youth moves; his loose robe wildly floats, 
 
 He bends the neck; he lisps. 
 
 His manners were far from being uniform; nor is it strange, 
 that they varied according to the many vicissitudes and won 
 derful turns of his fortune. He was naturally a man of strong 
 passions; but his ruling passion was an ambition to contend 
 and overcome. This appears from what is related of his say¬ 
 ings when a boy. When hard pressed in wrestling, to prevent 
 his being thrown, he bit the hands of his antagonist, who let 
 go his hold, and said, “ You bite, Alcibiades, like a woman.” 
 “No,” says he, “like a lion.” 
 
 One day he was playing at dice with other boys in the street; 
 and when it came to his turn to throw, a loaded wagon came 
 up. At first he called to the driver to stop, because he was to 
 throw in the way over which the wagon was to pass. The 
 rustic disregarding him and driving on, the other boys broke 
 away; but Alcibiades threw himself upon his face directly be¬ 
 fore the wagon, and stretching himself out, bade the fellow 
 drive on if he pleased. Upon this he was so startled, that he 
 stopped his horses, while those that saw it ran up to him with 
 terror. 
 
 In the course of his education, he willingly took the lessons 
 of his other masters, but refused learning to play upon the 
 flute, which he looked upon as a mean art, and unbecoming a 
 gentleman. “ The use of the plectrum and the lyre,” he would 
 say, “has nothing in it that disorders the features or form, but 
 a man is hardly to be known by his most intimate friends when 
 he plays upon the flute. Besides, the lyre does not hinder the 
 performer from speaking or accompanying it with a song, 
 whereas the flute so engages the mouth and the breath, that "it 
 leaves no possibility of speaking. Therefore, let the Theban 
 youth pipe, who know not how to discourse; but we Atheni¬ 
 ans, according to the account of our ancestors, have Minerva 
 for our patroness, and Apollo for our protector, one of whom 
 threw away the flute, and the other stripped off the man’s skin 
 who played upon it.”* Thus, partly by raillery, and partly 
 by argument, Alcibiades kept both himself and others from 
 learning to play upon the flute; for it soon became the talk 
 among the young men of condition, that Alcibiades was right 
 in holding that art in abomination, and ridiculing those that 
 
 * Malay as. 
 
366 
 
 ALCI13IADES. 
 
 practised it. Thus it 1 jst its place in the number of liberal ac¬ 
 complishments, and was universally exploded. 
 
 In the invective which Antipho wrote against Alcibiades, 
 one story is, that when a boy, he ran away from his guardians 
 to one of his friends named Democrates; and that Ariphron 
 would have had proclamation made for him, had not Pericles 
 diverted him from it, by saying, “ If he is dead, we shall only 
 find him one day the sooner for it; if he is safe, it will be a 
 reproach to him as long as he lives.” Another story is, that 
 he killed one of his servants with a stroke of his stick, in Si- 
 byrtius’s place of exercise. But, perhaps, we should not give 
 entire credit to these things, which were professedly written 
 by an enemy to defame him. 
 
 Many persons of rank made their court to Alcibiades; but 
 it is evident that they were charmed and attracted by the 
 beauty of his person. Socrates was the only one whose re¬ 
 gards were fixed upon the mind, and bore witness to the young 
 man’s virtue and ingenuity; the rays of which he could dis¬ 
 tinguish through his fine form; and fearing lest the pride of 
 riches and high rank, and the crowd of flatterers, both Athe¬ 
 nians and strangers, should corrupt him, he used his best en¬ 
 deavours to prevent it, and took care that so hopeful a plant 
 should not lose its fruit, and perish in the very flower. If ever 
 fortune so enclosed and fortified a man with what are called 
 her goods, as to render him* inaccessible to the incision-knife 
 of philosophy, and the searching-probe of free advice, surely 
 it was Alcibiades. From the first, he was sin.ounded with 
 pleasure, and a multitude of admirers, determined to say no 
 thing but what they thought would please, and to keep him 
 from all admonition and reproof; yet, by his native penetra 
 tion, he distinguished the value of Socrates, and attached him¬ 
 self to him, rejecting the rich and great, who sued for his re¬ 
 gard. 
 
 With Socrates he soon entered into the closest intimacy, 
 and finding that he did not, like the rest of the unmanly crew, 
 want improper favours, but that he studied to correct the er¬ 
 rors of his heart, and to cure him of his empty and foolish ar¬ 
 rogance, 
 
 Then his crest fell, and all his pride was gone. 
 
 He droop’d the conquer’d wing. 
 
 In fact, he considered the discipline of Socrates as a provision 
 from heaven for the preservation and benefit of youth. Thus 
 
 • Plutarch’s expression here is not exactly the same with that of the trans¬ 
 lation, but it is couched in figures which tend the same way, a/rr 9 ctrpoo tov vrt 
 Q!Xq<tg<pi&c yiviv^eti, xoyoig ctTrpcanov 7rci^>i<nuv ksu J'ny/uov t^aaiv. 
 
ALCIBIADES. 
 
 367 
 
 despising himself, admiring his friend, adoring his wisdom, 
 and revering his virtue, he insensibly formed in his heart the 
 image of love, or rather came under the influence of that pow¬ 
 er, who, as Plato says, secures his votaries from vicious love 
 It surprised all the world to see him constantly sup with So¬ 
 crates, take with him the exercise of wrestling, lodge in the 
 same tent with him; while to his other admirers he was re¬ 
 served and rough. Nay, to some he behaved with great inso¬ 
 lence, to Anytus (for instance) the son of Anthemion. Any 
 tus vvas very fond of him, and happening to make an entertain¬ 
 ment for some strangers, he desired Alcibiadesto give him his 
 company. Alcibiades would not accept of the invitation; but 
 having drunk deep with some of his acquaintance at his own 
 house, he went thither to play some frolic. The frolic was this* 
 He stood at the door of the room where the guests were enter¬ 
 tained, and seeing a great number of gold and silver cups upon 
 the table, he ordered his servants to take half of them, and 
 carry them to his own house;* and then, not vouchsafing so 
 much as to enter into the room himself, as soon as he had done 
 this, he went away. The company resented the affront, and 
 said he had behaved very rudely and insolently to Anytus. 
 “Not at all,” said Anytus, “but rather kindly, since he has 
 left us half, when he knew it was in his power to take the 
 whole.” 
 
 He behaved in the same manner to his other admirers, ex 
 cept only one stranger. This man (they tell us) was but in 
 indifferent circumstances; for when he had sold all, he could 
 make up no more than the sum of one hundred staters ;t which 
 he carried to Alcibiades, and begged of him to accept it. Alci¬ 
 biades was pleased at the thing, and, smiling, invited him to 
 supper. After a kind reception and entertainment, he gave 
 him the gold again, but required him to be present next day 
 when the public revenues were to be offered to farm, and to 
 be sure to be the highest bidder. The man endeavouring to 
 excuse himself, because the rent would be many talents, Alci 
 biades, who had a private pique against the old farmers, threat¬ 
 ened to have him beaten if he refused. Next morning, there- 
 
 * Athenseus says, he did not keep them himself, but having* taken them 
 from this man, who was rich, gave them to Thrasyllu§, who was poor. 
 
 f The stater was a coin which weighed four Attic drachmas, and was either 
 of gold or silver. The silver was worth about two shillings and six pence 
 sterling; the stater daricus , a gold coin, was worth twelve shillings and three 
 pence halfpenny; but the Attic stater of gold must be worth much more, if 
 we reckon the proportion of gold to silver only at ten to one, as it was 
 then; whereas now it is about sixteen to one. Dacier, then, is greatly mis* 
 taken, when he says the stater here mentioned by Plutarch was worth only- 
 forty French sols, for Plutarch says expressly, that these staters were of goto 
 
368 
 
 ALCIBIADES 
 
 fore, the stranger appeared in the market-place, and offered a 
 talent more than the former rent. The farmers, uneasy and 
 angry at this, called upon him to name his security, supposing 
 that he could not find any. The poor man was indeed much 
 startled, and going to.retire with shame, when Alcibiades, who 
 stood at some distance, cried out to the magistrates, “ Set 
 down my name, he is my friend, and 1 will be his security.” 
 When the old farmers of the revenue heard this, they were 
 much perplexed; for their way was, with the profits of the 
 present year to pay the rent of the preceding; so that, seeing 
 no other way to extricate themselves out of the difficulty, they 
 applied to the stranger in an humble strain, and offered him mo¬ 
 ney. But .Alcibiades would not suffer him to take less than a 
 talent, which accordingly was paid. Having done him this 
 service, he told him he might relinquish his bargain. 
 
 Though Socrates had many rivals, yet he kept possession of 
 Alcibiades’s heart by the excellence of his genius, and the pa¬ 
 thetic turn of his conversation, which often drew tears from 
 his young companion; and though sometimes he gave Socrates 
 the slip, and was drawn away by his flatterers, who exhausted 
 all the art of pleasure for that purpose, yet the philosophei 
 took care to hunt out his fugitive, who feared and respected 
 none but him; the rest he held in great contempt. Hence 
 that saying of Cleanthes, “ Socrates gains Alcibiades by the 
 ear, and leaves to his rivals other parts of his body, with which 
 he scorns to meddle.” In fact, Alcibiades was very capable 
 of being led by the allurements of pleasure; and what Thucy¬ 
 dides says concerning his excesses in his way of living, gives 
 occasion to believe so. Those who endeavoured to corrupt 
 him, attacked him. on a still weaker side, his vanity and love 
 of ditsinction, and led him into vast designs and unseasona- 
 able projects; persuading him, that as soon as he should appl)’ 
 himself to the management of public affairs, he should not only 
 eclipse the other generals and orators, but surpass even Peri¬ 
 cles himself, in point of reputation, as well as interest with 
 the powers of Greece. But as iron, when softened by the fire, 
 is soon hardened again, and brought to a proper temper by cold 
 water; so, when Alcibiades was enervated by luxury, or swoln 
 with pride, Socrates corrected and brought him to himself by 
 his discourses; for from them he learned the number of his de¬ 
 fects, and the imperfection of his virtue. 
 
 When he was past his childhood, happening to go into a 
 grammar-school, he asked the master for a volume of Homer; 
 and upon his making answer that he had nothing of Homer’?, 
 he gave him a box on the ear, and so left him. Another 
 schoolmaster telling him he had Homer corrected by himself: 
 “How!” said Alcibiades, “and do you employ your time 
 
ALCIBIADES. 
 
 369 
 
 teaching children to read; you, who are able to correct Ho 
 mer, might seem to be fit. to instruct men.” 
 
 One day, wanting to speak to Pericles, he went to his house, 
 and being told there that he was busied in considering how to 
 give in his accounts to the people, and therefore not at leisure, 
 he said, as he went away, “ He had better consider how to 
 avoid giving in any account at all.” 
 
 While he was yet a youth, he made the campaign at Poti 
 daea, where Socrates lodged in the same tent with him, and 
 was his companion in every engagement. In the principal 
 battle, they both behaved with great gallantry; but Alcibiades 
 at last falling down wounded, Socrates advanced to defend 
 him, which he did effectually, in the sight of the whole army, 
 saving both him and his arms. For this the prize of valoui 
 was certainly due to Socrates, yet the generals inclined to give 
 it to Alcibiades, on account of his quality; and Socrates, will¬ 
 ing to encourage this thirst after true glory, was the first who 
 gave his suffrage for him, and pressed them to adjudge him the 
 crown, and the complete suit of armour. On the other hand, 
 at the battle of Delium, where the Athenians .were routed,* 
 and Socrates, with a few others, was retreating on foot, Alci¬ 
 biades observing it, did not pass him, but covered his retreat, 
 and brought him safe off, though the enemy pressed furiously 
 forward, and killed great numbers of the Athenians. But this 
 happened a considerable time after. 
 
 To Hipponicus, the father of Callias, a man respectable both 
 for his birth and fortune, Alcibiades one day gave a box on 
 the ear; not that he had any quarrel with him, or was heated 
 by passion, but purely because in a wanton frolic, he had 
 agreed with his companions to do so. The whole city being 
 full of the story of his insolence, and every body (as it was 
 natural to expect) expressing some resentment, early next 
 morning Alcibiades went to wait on Hipponicus, knocked at 
 the door and was admitted. As soon as he came into his pre¬ 
 sence, he stripped off his garment, and presenting his naked 
 body, desired him to beat and chastise him as he pleased. But 
 instead of that, Hipponicus pardoned him, and forgot all his 
 resentment: nay, some time after, he even gave him his 
 daughter Hipparete in marriage. Some say it was not Hip¬ 
 ponicus, but his son Callias, who gave Hipparete to Alcibiades, 
 with ten talents to her portion; and that, when she brought 
 him a child, he demanded ten talents more, as if he had taken 
 
 * Laches, as introduced by Plato, tells us, that if others had done their 
 duty, as Socrates did his, the Athenians would not have been defeated in the 
 battle of Delium. That battle was fought the first year of the eighty-ninth 
 Olympiad; eight years after the battle of Potidrea. 
 
 Vol. I.-3 C 33 
 
370 
 
 ALCIBIADES. 
 
 her on that condition. Though this was but a groundless pm 
 /ext, yet Callias, apprehensive of some bad consequence from 
 nis artful contrivances, in a full assembly of the people, declar¬ 
 ed, that if he should happen to die without children, Alcibia- 
 des should be his heir. 
 
 Hipparete made a prudent and affectionate wife; but at last, 
 growing very uneasy at her husband’s associating with such a 
 number of courtezans, both strangers and Athenians, she 
 quitted his house, and went to her brother’s. Alcibiades went 
 on with his debaucheries, and gave himself no pain about his 
 wife; but it was necessary for her, in order to a legal separa¬ 
 tion, to give in a bill of divorce to the archon, and to appear 
 personally with it; for the sending of it by another hand would 
 not do. When she came to do this according to law, Alcibi¬ 
 ades rushed in, caught her in his arms, and carried her through 
 the market-place to his own house, no one presuming to op¬ 
 pose him, or take her from him. From that time she remain 
 ed with him until her death, which happened not long after, 
 when Alcibiades was upon his voyage to Ephesus. • Nor does 
 the violence used, in this case, seem to be contrary to the laws, 
 either of society in general, or of that republic in particular. 
 For the law of Athens, in requiring her who wants to be di¬ 
 vorced to appear publicly in person, probably intended to give 
 the husband an opportunity to meet with her and to recover 
 her. 
 
 Alcibiades had a dog of an uncommon size and beauty, 
 which cost him seventy minx, and yet his tail, which was his 
 principal ornament, he caused to be cut off. Some of his ac¬ 
 quaintance found great fault with his acting so strangely, and 
 told him that all Athens rung with the story of his foolish treat 
 ment of the dog: At which he laughed, and said, “ This is the 
 very thing I wanted; for I would have the Athenians talk of 
 this, lest they should find something worse to say of me.” 
 
 The first thing that made him popular,* and introduced him 
 into the administration, was his distributing of money, not by 
 design, but accident. Seeing one day a great crowd of people, 
 as he was walking along, he asked what it meant; and being 
 informed there was a donative made to the people, he distri¬ 
 buted money too as he went in amongst them. This meeting 
 with great applause, he was so much delighted that he forgot 
 a quail which he had under his robe,t and the bird, frightened 
 
 * n§aT&y«P '7r*£oS'ovit; to S'y./uca-tcv. —Demosthenes and iEschines both 
 make use of the word Sn/uccrtov to express the administration. 
 
 •fit was the fashion in those days to breed quails. Plato reports, that So¬ 
 crates having brought Alcibiades to acknowledge, that the way to rise to dis¬ 
 tinction among the Athenians was to study to excel the generals of their ene- 
 
ALCIBIADES. 
 
 371 
 
 with the noise, flew away. Upon this, the people set up still 
 louder acclamations, and many of them assisted him to recover 
 the quail. The man who did catch it and bring it to him, was 
 one Antiochus,* a pilot, for whom he had ever after a particu¬ 
 lar regard. 
 
 He had great advantages for introducing himself into the 
 management of public affairs, from his birth, his estate, his 
 personal valour, and the number of his friends and relations: 
 but what he chose above all the rest to recommend himself by 
 to the people was the charms of his eloquence. That he was 
 a fine speaker the comic writers bear witness; and so does the 
 prince of orators, in his oration against Midias,t where he 
 says that Alcibiades was the most eloquent man of his time. 
 And, if we believe Theophrastus, a curious searcher into an¬ 
 tiquity, and more versed in history than the other philoso 
 phers, Alcibiades had a peculiar happiness of invention, and 
 readiness of ideas, which eminently distinguished him. But 
 as his care was employed not only upon the matter but the ex¬ 
 pression, and he had not the greatest facility in the latter, he 
 often hesitated in the midst of a speech, not hitting upon the 
 word he wanted, and stopping until it occurred to him. 
 
 He was famed for his breed of horses and the number of 
 chariots. For no one besides himself, whether private person 
 or king, ever sent seven chariots at one time to the Olympic 
 games. The first, the second, and the fourth prizes, accord¬ 
 ing to Thucydides, or the third, as Euripides relates it, he 
 bore away at once, which exceeds every thing performed by 
 the most ambitious in that way. Euripides thus celebrates 
 his success:— 
 
 Great son of Clinias, I record thy glory, 
 
 First on the dusty plain 
 The threefold prize to gain; 
 
 What hero boasts thy praise in Grecian story? 
 
 Twice* does the trumpet’s voice proclaim 
 
 Around the plausive cirque thy honour’d name: 
 
 mies, replied with this severe irony, “No, no, Alcibiades, your only study is 
 how to surpass Midias in the art of breeding quails.”— Plat . in 1 Alcib . 
 
 * The name of the man who caught the quail would hardly have been 
 mentioned, had not Alcibiades afterwards entrusted him with the command 
 of the fleet in his absence; when he took the opportunity to fight, and was 
 beaten. 
 
 j It appears, from the passage of Demosthenes, that he spoke only from 
 common fame, and consequently that there was little of Alcibiades’s then 
 extant. We find some remains of his oratory in Thucydides. 
 
 t Alcibiades won the first, second, and third prizes in person; beside which, 
 his chariots won twice in his absence. The later is what Euripides refers to 
 the words a^rovyirt and Sis sn^eyrn. 
 
372 
 
 ALCIBIADES. 
 
 Twice on thy brow was seen 
 The peaceful olive’s green, 
 
 The glorious palm of easy-purchas’d fame.* 
 
 The emulation which several Grecian cities expressed in tha 
 presents they made him gave a still greater lustre to his suc¬ 
 cess. Ephesus provided a magnificent pavilion for him; Chios 
 was at the expense of keeping his horses and beasts for sacrifice; 
 and Lesbos found him in wine and every thing necessary for 
 the most elegant public table. Yet, amidst this success, he 
 escaped not without censure, occasioned either by the malice 
 of his enemies, or by his own misconduct. It seems there was 
 at Athens one Diomedes, a man of good character and a friend 
 of Alcibiades, who v/as very desirous of winning a prize at 
 the Olympic games: and being informed that there was a 
 chariot to be sold, which belonged to the city of Argos, where 
 Alcibiades had a strong interest, he persuaded him to buy it 
 for him. Accordingly he did buy it, but kept it for himself, 
 leaving Diomedes to vent his rage, and to call gods and men 
 to bear witness of the injustice. For this there seems to have 
 been an action brought against him; and there is extant an 
 oration concerning a chariot, written by Isocrates, in defence 
 of Alcibiades, then a youth; but there the plaintiff is named 
 Tisias, not Diomedes. 
 
 Alcibiades was very young when he first applied himself to 
 the business of the republic, and yet he soon showed himself 
 superior to the other orators. The persons capable of stand¬ 
 ing in some degree of competition with him, were Phaeax the 
 son of Erasistratus, and Nicias the son of Niceratus. The lat¬ 
 ter was advanced in years, and one of the best generals of his 
 time. The former was but a youth, like himself, just begin¬ 
 ning to make his way; for which lie had the advantage of high 
 birth; but in other respects, as well as in the art of speaking, 
 was inferior to Alcibiades. He seemed fitter for soliciting and 
 persuading in private, than for stemming the torrent of a pub- 
 
 * Antisthenes, a disciple of Socrates, writes, that Chios fed his horses, and 
 Cyzicus provided his victims. The passage is remarkable, for we learn from 
 it, that this was done, not only when Alcibiades went to the Olympic games, 
 but in his warlike expeditions, and even in his travels. “ Whenever,” says 
 he, “ Alcibiades travelled, four cities of the. allies ministered to him as his 
 hand-maids. Ephesus furnished him with tents as sumptuous as those of the 
 Persians; Chios found provender for his horses; Cyzicus supplied him with 
 victims and provisions for his table; and Lesbos with wine and all other 
 necessaries for his household.” None but opulent cities were able to an 
 swer such an expense; for at the time when Alcibiades won the three prizes 
 in person at the Olympic games, after he had offered a very costly sacrifice 
 to Jupiter, he entertained at a magnificent repast that innumerable company 
 vhich had assisted at the games. 
 
ALCIBIADES. 
 
 373 
 
 lie debate; in short, he was one of those, of whom Eupolis 
 says, “True, he can talk, and yet he is no speaker.” There 
 is extant an oration against Alcibiades and Phaeax, in which, 
 amongst other things, it is alleged against Alcibiades, that he 
 used at his table many of the gold and silver vessels provided 
 for the sacred processions, as if they had been his own. 
 
 There was at Athens one Hyperbolus, of the ward of Peri- 
 thois, whom Thucydides makes mention of as a very bad man, 
 and who was a constant subject of ridicule for the comic wri¬ 
 ters. But he was unconcerned at the worst things they could 
 say of him; and being regardless of honour, he was also insen 
 sible of shame. This, though really impudence and folly, is 
 by some people called fortitude and a noble daring. But 
 though no one liked him, the people nevertheless made use of 
 him, when they wanted to strike at persons in authority. At 
 his instigation, the Athenians were ready to proceed to the 
 oan of ostracism , by which they pull down and expel such of 
 the citizens as are distinguished by their dignity and power, 
 therein consulting their envy rather than their fear. 
 
 As it was evident that this sentence was levelled against one 
 of the three, Phaeax, Nicias, or Alcibiades, the latter took care 
 to unite the contending parties, and leaguing with Nicias, 
 caused the ostracism to fall upon Hyperbolus himself. Some 
 say, it was not Nicias, but Phaeax, with whom Alcibiades 
 joined interest, and by whose assistance he expelled their 
 common enemy, when he expected nothing less; for no vile 
 or infamous person had ever undergone that punishment. So 
 Plato, the <;omic poet, assures us, thus speaking of Hyperbolus* 
 
 Well had the caitiff earned his banishment, 
 
 But not by ostracism: that sentence sacred 
 
 To dangerous eminence. 
 
 But we have elsewhere given a more full account of what his 
 tory has delivered down to us concerning this matter.* 
 
 Alcibiades was not less disturbed at the great esteem in 
 which Nicias was held by the enemies of Athens, than at the 
 respect which the Athenians themselves paid him. The 
 rights of hospitality had long subsisted between the family of 
 Alcibiades and the Lacedaemonians, and he had taken particu¬ 
 lar care of such of them as were made prisoners at Pylos; yet 
 when they found that it was chiefly by the means of Nicias 
 that they obtained a peace and recovered the captives, their 
 regards centred in him. It was a common observation among 
 the Greeks, that Pericles had engaged them in a war, and 
 Nicias had set them free from it; nay, the peace was even call 
 
 * In the lives of Aristides and Nicias. 
 33* 
 
S?4 
 
 ALUIUADES, 
 
 ed the Nician peace. Alcibiades was very uneasy at this, and 
 out of envy to Nicias determined to break the league. 
 
 As soon, then, as he perceived that the people of Argos both 
 feared and hated the Spartans, and consequently wanted to get 
 clear of all connection with them, he privately gave them 
 hopes of assistance from Athens; and, both by his agents and 
 in person, he encouraged the principal citizens not to entertain 
 any fear, or to give up any point, but to apply to the Athe¬ 
 nians, who were almost ready to repent of the peace they had 
 made, and would soon seek occasion to break it. 
 
 But after the Lacedaemonians had entered into alliance with 
 the Boeotians, and had delivered Panactus to the Athenians, 
 not with its fortifications, as they ought to have done, but quite 
 dismantled, he took the opportunity, while the Athenians 
 were incensed at this proceeding, to inflame them still more 
 At the same time he raised a clamour against Nicias, alleging 
 things which had a face of probability; for he reproached him 
 with having neglected, when commander-in-chief, to make 
 that* party prisoners who were left by the enemy in Sphacte- 
 ria, and with releasing them, when taken by others, to ingra 
 liate himself with the Lacedsemonians. He farther asserted, 
 that though Nicias had an interest with the Lacedaemonians, 
 he w T ould not make use of it to prevent their entering into the 
 confederacy with the Boeotians and Corinthians;J)ut that when 
 an alliance was offered to the Athenians by any of the Grecian 
 states, he took care to prevent their accepting it, if it were 
 likely to give umbrage to the Lacedaemonians. 
 
 Nicias was greatly disconcerted; but at that very juncture 
 it happened that ambassadors from Lacedaemon arrived with 
 moderate proposals, and declared that they had full powers to 
 treat and decide all differences in an equitable way. The se 
 nate was satisfied, and next day the people were to be con 
 vened: but Alcibiades, dreading the success of that audience, 
 
 * After the Lacedaemonians had lost the fort of Pylos in Messenia, they 
 left in the isle of Sphacteria, which was opposite that fort, a garrison of three 
 hundred and twenty men, besides Helots, under the command of Epitades 
 the son of Molobrus. The Athenians would have sent Nicias, while com- 
 mander-in-chiefi with a fleet against that island, but he excused himself. Af¬ 
 terwards Cleon, in conjunction with Demosthenes, got possession of it, after 
 a long dispute, wherein several of the garrison were slain, and the rest made 
 prisoners, and sent to Athens. Among those prisoners were a hundred and 
 twenty Spartans, who by the assistance of Nicias got released. The Lace¬ 
 daemonians afterwards recovered the port of Pylos; for Anytus, who was 
 sent with a squadron to support it, finding the wind directly against him, 
 returned to Athens; upon which the people, according to their usual custom, 
 condemned him to die; which sentence, however, he commuted, by paying 
 a vast sum of money, being the first who reversed a judgment in i^at man 
 
ALCIBIADES. 
 
 375 
 
 tound means to speak with the ambassadors in the mean time, 
 and thus he addressed them :— 66 Men of Lacedaemon, what is 
 it you are going to do? Are you not apprised that the be¬ 
 haviour of the senate is always candid and humane to those 
 who apply to it, whereas the people are haughty, and expect 
 great concessions? If you say that you are come with full 
 powers, you will find them untractable and extravagant in their 
 demands. Come, then, retract that impudent declaration; and 
 if you desire to keep the Athenians within the bounds of rea¬ 
 son, and not to have terms extorted from you, which you can 
 not approve, treat with them as if you had not a discretionary 
 commission, I will use my best endeavours in favour of the 
 Lacedaemonians.” He confirmed his promise with an oath, 
 and thus drew them over from Nicias to himself. In Alci- 
 biades th$y now placed an entire confidence, admiring both 
 his understanding and address in business, and regarding him 
 as a very extraordinary man. 
 
 Next day the people assembled, and the ambassadors were 
 introduced. Alcibiades asked them in an obliging manner, 
 what their commission was, and they answered, that they did 
 not come as plenipotentiaries. Then he began to rave and 
 storm, as if he had received an injury, not done one; calling 
 them faithless, prevaricating men, who were come neither to 
 do nor to say any thing honourable. The senate was incensed, 
 the people were enraged, and Nicias, who was ignorant of the 
 deceitful contrivance of Alcibiades, was filled with astonish¬ 
 ment and confusion at this change. 
 
 The proposals of the ambassadors thus rejected, Alcibiades 
 was deelare'd general, and soon engaged the Argives,* the 
 Mantineans, and Eleans, as allies to the Athenians. Nobody 
 commended the manner of this transaction, but the effect was 
 very great, since it divided and embroiled almost all Pelopon¬ 
 nesus, in one day lifted so many arms against the Lacedaemo¬ 
 nians at Mantinea, and removed to so great a distance from 
 Athens the scene of war; by which the Lacedaemonians, if 
 victorious, could gain no great advantage, whereas a miscar 
 riage would have risked the very being of their state. 
 
 Soon after this battle at Mantinea,t the principal officers ): 
 
 * He concluded a league with these states for a hundred years, which 
 Thucydides has inserted at full length in his fifth book; and by which we 
 learn that the treaties of the ancient Greeks w'ere no less perfect and ex¬ 
 plicit than ours. Their treaties were of as little consequence too; for how 
 6oon was that broken which the Athenians had made with the Lacedaemo¬ 
 nians! 
 
 f That battle was fought near three year.s after the conclusion of the treaty 
 with Argos. 
 
 i Those officers availed themselves of the consternation the peopk at 
 
376 
 
 ALCIBIADES 
 
 of the Argive army attempted to abolish the popular govern 
 ment of Argos, and to take the administration into their own 
 hands. The Lacedaemonians espoused the design, and assist¬ 
 ed them to carry it into execution. But the people took up 
 arms again, and defeated their new masters; and Alcibiades 
 coming to their aid, made the victory more complete. At the 
 same time he persuaded them to extend their walls down to 
 the sea, that they might always be in a condition to receive 
 succours from the Athenians. From Athens he sent them 
 carpenters and masons, exerting himself greatly on this occa¬ 
 sion; which tended to increase his personal interest and power, 
 as well as that of his country. He advised the people of Patrae, 
 too, to join their city to the sea by long walls. And somebody 
 observing to the Patrensians, “That the Athenians would one 
 day swallow them up:” “ Possibly it may be so, said AIcd 
 biades, “but they will begin with the feet, and do it by little 
 and little, whereas the Lacedaemonians will begin with the 
 head and do it all at once.” He exhorted the Athenians to 
 assert the empire of the land, as well as of the sea; and was 
 ever putting the young warriors in mind to show by theii 
 deeds that they remembered the oath they had taken in the 
 temple of Agraulos.* The oath is, that they will consider 
 wheat, barley, vine, and olives, as the bounds of Attica; by 
 which it is insinuated, that they should endeavour to possess 
 themselves of all lands that are cultivated and fruitful. 
 
 But these his great abilities in politics, his eloquence, his 
 reach of genius, and keenness of apprehension, were tarnished 
 by his luxurious living, his drinking and debauches, his effemi¬ 
 nacy of dress, and his insolent profusion. He wore a purple 
 robe with a long train when he appeared in public. He caused 
 the planks of his galley to be cut away, that he might lie the 
 softer, his bed not being placed upon the boards, but hanging 
 upon girths. And in the wars he bore a shield of gold, which 
 nad none of the usualt ensigns of his country, but, in their 
 
 Argos were in after the loss of the battle; and the Lacedaemonians gladly 
 supported them, from a persuasion that if the popular government were 
 abolished, and an aristocracy (like that of Sparta) set up in Argos, they 
 should soon be masters there. 
 
 * Agraulos, one of the daughters of Cecrops, had devoted herself to death 
 for the benefit of her country; it has been supposed, therefore, that the oath 
 which the young Athenians took, bound them to do something of that na* 
 ture, if need should require; though as given by Plutarch, it implies only an 
 unjust resolution to extend the Athenian dominions to all lands that were 
 worth seizing. Demosthenes mentions the oath in his oration de fals. Legat. 
 but does not explain it. 
 
 j* Both cities and private persons had of old their ensigns, devices, or arms. 
 Those of the Athenians were commonly Minerva, the owl, or the olive. 
 None but people of figure were allowed to bear any devices; lor even 
 
ALCIBIADES. 
 
 377 
 
 steaa, a Cupid bearing a thunderbolt The greal: men oi 
 Athens saw his behaviour with uneasiness and indignation* 
 and even dreaded the consequence. They regarded his foreign 
 manners, his profusion, and contempt of the laws, as so many 
 means to make himself absolute. And Aristophanes well ex 
 presses how the bulk of the people were disposed toward? 
 him:— 
 
 They love, they hate, but Jan not live without him. 
 
 And again he satirizes him still more severely by the follow 
 mg allusion:— 
 
 Nurse not a lion’s whelp within your walls; 
 
 But if he is brought up there, sooth the brute. 
 
 The truth is, his prodigious liberality, the games he exhibit¬ 
 ed, and the other extraordinary instances of his munificence 
 to the people, the glory of his ancestors, the beauty of his per¬ 
 son, and the force of his eloquence, together with his heroic 
 strength, his valour and experience in war, so gained upon 
 the Athenians, that they connived at his errors, and spoke of 
 them with all imaginable tenderness, calling them sallies of 
 youth, and good-humoured frolics. Such were his confining 
 Agatharcus the painter,* until he had painted his house, and 
 then dismissing him with a handsome present; his giving a 
 box on the ear to Taureus, who exhibited games in opposition 
 to him, and vied with him for the preference; and his taking 
 one of the captive Melian women for his mistress, and bring¬ 
 ing up a child he had by her. These were what they called 
 his good-humoured frolics; but surely we can not bestow that 
 appellation upon the slaughtering of all the males in the isle of 
 Melos,t who had arrived at years of puberty, which was in 
 consequence of a decree that he promoted. Again, when Ar- 
 istophon had painted the courtezan Nemea with Alcibiades in 
 her arms, many of the people eagerly crowded to see it; but 
 
 they, until they had performed some action to deserve them; in the mean 
 time their shields were plain white. Alcibiades, in his device, referred to 
 the beauty of his person &nd hia martial prowess. Mottos, too, were used, 
 Capaneus, for induce, here a naked man with a torch in his hand, the motto 
 this, I will bum t.kt diy . See more in jEschylus’s tragedy of the Seven 
 Chiefs, 
 
 * This painter had been familiar with Alcibiadcs’s mistress. 
 
 f Hie isle of MeV/fl, ore of the Cyclades, and a colony of Lacedaemon, 
 was attempted by Alcibiades, the last year of the ninetieth Olympiad, and 
 taken the year following. Thucydides, who lias given us an account of this 
 slaughter of the Melians, makes no mention of the decree. Probably he 
 .vas willing to have the carnage thought the effect of a sudden transport in 
 .he soldiery, and not of a cruel and cool resolution of the people of Athens 
 
 Vor.. t -3 D 
 
ALCIB1ADES. 
 
 378 
 
 such oi the Athenians as were more advanced in years, were 
 much displeased, and considered these as sights fit only for a 
 tyrant’s court, and as insults on the laws of Athens. Nor was 
 it ill observed by Archestratus, “that Greece could not bear 
 another Alcibiades.” When Timon, famed for his misan¬ 
 thropy, saw Alcibiades, after having gained his point, con¬ 
 ducted home with great honour from the place of assembly, he 
 did not shun him as he did other men, but went up to him, 
 and shaking him by the hand, thus addressed him:—“Go on, 
 my brave boy, and. prosper; for your prosperity will bring on 
 the ruin of all this crowd.” This occasioned various reflec¬ 
 tions; some laughed, some railed, and others were extremely 
 moved at the saying; so various were the judgments formed of 
 Alcibiades, by reason of the inconsistency of his character. 
 
 In the time of Pericles,* the Athenians had a desire after 
 Sicily; and when he had paid the last debt to nature, they at¬ 
 tempted it; frequently under pretence of succouring their 
 allies, sending aids of men and money to such of the Sicilians 
 as were attacked by the Syracusans. This was a step to great¬ 
 er armaments. But Alcibiades inflamed this desire to an ir¬ 
 resistible degree, and persuaded them not to attempt the island 
 in part, and by little and little, but to send a powerful fleet en¬ 
 tirely to subdue it. He inspired the people with hopes of 
 great things, and indulged himself in expectations still more 
 lofty; for he did not, like the rest, consider Sicily as the end 
 of his wishes, but rather as an introduction to the mighty ex¬ 
 peditions he had conceived. And while Nicias was dissua¬ 
 ding the people from the siege of Syracuse, as a business too 
 difficult to succeed in, Alcibiades was dreaming of Carthage 
 and of Lyhiat t> after these were gained, he designed to 
 grasp Italy and Peloponnesus, regarding Sicily as little more 
 than a magazine for pm/isions and warlike stores. 
 
 The young men immediately entered into his schemes, and 
 listened with great attention to those who, under the sanction 
 of age, related wonders concerning the intended expeditions; 
 
 * Pericles, by his prudence and authority, had restrained this extravagant 
 ambition of the Athenians. He died the last year of the eighty-seventh 
 Olympiad, in the third year of the Peloponnesian war. Two years after this, 
 the Athenians sent some ships to Rhegium, which were to go from thence to 
 the succour of the Leontines, who were attacked by the Syracusans. The 
 year following, they sent a still greater number; and two years after that, 
 they fitted out another fleet of a greater force than the former; but the Sicili¬ 
 ans having put an end to their divisions, and by the advice of Hermocrates 
 (whose speech Thucydides, in his fourth book, gives us at large), having sent 
 back the fleet, the Athenians were so enraged at their generals for not hav¬ 
 ing conquered Sicily, that they banished two of them, Pythodorus and So¬ 
 phocles, and laid a heavy fine upen Eurymedon. So infatuated were the} 
 by their prosperity, that they imagined themselves irresistible. 
 
LLCIBIADES. 
 
 379 
 
 %o that many of them sat whole days in the places of exercise, 
 drawing in the dust the figure of the island, and plans of Lybia 
 and Carthage. However, we are informed, that Socrates the 
 philosopher, and Meton the astrologer, were far from expect¬ 
 ing that there wars would turn to the advantage of Athens; 
 the former, it should seem, influenced by some prophetic no* 
 tices with which he was favoured by the genius who attended 
 him; and the latter, either by reasonings which led him to fear 
 what was to come, or else by knowledge with which his art 
 supplied him. Be that as it may, Meton feigned himself mad, 
 and taking a flaming torch, attempted to set his house on fire. 
 Others say, that he made use of no such pretence, but burnt 
 down his house in the night, and in the morning went and 
 begged of the peon 1 e to excuse his son from that campaign, that 
 he might De a comfort to him under his misfortune. By this 
 artifice he fcpou them, and gained his point. 
 
 Nicipj was one of his generals, much against his 
 
 inclination; f-r ne would have declined the command, if it 
 had been only on account of his having such a colleague. The 
 Athenians, however, thought the war would be belter con¬ 
 ducted, if they did not give free scope to the impetuosity of 
 Alcibiades, but tempered his boldness with the prudence of 
 Nicias. For as to the third general, Lamachus, though well 
 advanced in years, he did not seem to come at all short of A1 
 cibiades in heat and rashness. 
 
 When they came to deliberate about the number of the 
 troops, and the necessary preparations for the armament, Ni¬ 
 cias again opposed their measures, and endeavoured to prevent 
 the war. But Alcibiades replying to his arguments, and car¬ 
 rying all before him, the orator Demostratus proposed a de¬ 
 cree, that the generals should have the absolute direction of 
 the war, and of all the preparations for it. When the people 
 had given their assent; and every thing was got ready for set¬ 
 ting sail, unlucky omens occurred, even on a festival which 
 was celebrated at that time. It was the feast of Adonis,* the 
 women walked in procession with images, which represented 
 the dead carried out to burial, acting the lamentations, and 
 singing the mournful dirges usual on such occasions. 
 
 * On the feast of Adonis all the cities put themselves in mourning’; coffins 
 were exposed at every door; the statues of Venus and Adonis were borne in 
 procession, with certain vessels filled with earth, in which they had raised 
 corn, herbs, and lettuce, and these vessels were called the gardens of Adonis. 
 After the ceremony was over, the gardens were thrown into the sea, or some 
 river. This festival was celebrated throughout all Greece and Egypt, and 
 among the Jews too, when they degenerated into idolatry, as we learn from 
 Ezekiel , viii. 14: And behold there, sat women weeping for Tammuz , that is, 
 Vdonis. 
 
380 
 
 ALCIBIADES. 
 
 Add to this the mutilating and disfiguring of almost all tin 
 statues of Mercury,* which happened in one night; a circurr 
 stance which alarmed even those who had long despised things 
 of that nature. It was imputed to the Corinthians, of whom 
 the Syracusans were a colony; and they were supposed to have 
 done it, in hopes that such a prodigy might induce the Athe¬ 
 nians to desist from the war. But the people paid little re¬ 
 gard to this insinuation, or to the discourses of those who said 
 that there was no manner of ill presage in what happened, and 
 that it was nothing but the wild frolic of a parcel of young fel¬ 
 lows, flushed with wine, and bent on some extravagance. In¬ 
 dignation and fear made them take this event not only for a 
 bad omen, but for the consequence of a plot which aimed at 
 greater matters; and therefore both senate and people assem¬ 
 bled several times within a few days, and very strictly exam¬ 
 ined every suspicious circumstance. 
 
 In the mean time, the demagogue Androcles produced some 
 Athenian slaves and certain sojourners, who accused Alcibia- 
 des and his friends of defacing some other statues, and of mim¬ 
 icking the sacred mysteries in one of their drunken revels; on 
 which occasion, they said, one Theodorus represented tht 
 herald, Polytion the torch-bearer, and Alcibiades the high- 
 priest; his other companions attending as persons initiated, 
 and therefore called Mystse. Such was the import of the de¬ 
 position of Thessalus the son of Cimon, who accused Alcibia¬ 
 des of impiety towards the goddesses Ceres and Proserpine. 
 The people being much provoked at Alcibiades, and Andro¬ 
 cles his bitterest enemy exasperating them still more, at first 
 he was somewhat disconcerted. But when he perceived that 
 the seamen and soldiers too, intended for the Sicilian expedi¬ 
 tion, were on his side, and heard a body of Argives and Man- 
 tineans, consisting of a thousand men, declare that they were 
 willing to cross the seas, and to run the risk of a foreign war 
 for the sake of Alcibiades, but that if any injury were done to 
 him, they would immediately march home again; then he re¬ 
 covered his spirits, and appeared to defend himself. It was 
 now his enemy’s turn to be discouraged, and to fear that the 
 people, on account of the need they had of him, would be fa¬ 
 vourable in their sentence. To obviate this inconvenience, 
 they persuaded c< rtain orators, who were not reputed to be his 
 enemies, but hated him as heartily as the most professed ones, 
 to move it to the people,—“That it was extremely absurd, 
 that a general who was invested with a discretionary power, 
 and a very important command, when the troops were collect 
 
 * The Athenians had statues of Merc iry at the doors of their houses, made 
 of stones of a cubical form. 
 
ALCIBIADES. 
 
 381 
 
 ed and the allies all ready to sail, should lose time, while they 
 were casting lots forjudges, and filling the glasses with water, 
 to measure out the time of his defence. In the name of the 
 gods let him sail, and when the war is concluded, be accounta¬ 
 ble to the laws, which will still be the same.” 
 
 Alcibiades easily saw their malicious drift in wanting to put 
 off the trial, and observed,—“ That it would be an intolerable 
 nardship to leave such accusations and calumnies behind him, 
 and be sent out with so important a commission, while he was 
 in suspense as to his own fate. That he ought to suffer death, 
 if he could not clear himself of the charge; but if he could 
 prove his innocence, justice required that he should be set free 
 from ah fear of false accusers lefore they sent him against 
 their enemies.” But he could not obtain that favour. He 
 was indeed ordered to set sail,* which he accordingly did, to¬ 
 gether with his colleagues, having near a hundred and forty 
 galleys in his company, five thousand one hundred heavy 
 armed soldiers, and about a thousand three hundred archers, 
 slingers, and others, light-armed, with suitable provisions and 
 stores. 
 
 Arriving on the coast of Italy, he landed at Rhegium. There 
 he gave his opinion as to the manner in which the war should 
 be conducted, and was opposed by Nicias: but as Lamachus 
 agreed with him, he sailed to Sicily, and made himself master 
 ofCatana.t This was all he performed, being soon sent for 
 by the Aihenians to take his trial. At first, as we have ob¬ 
 served, there was nothing against him but slight suspicions, 
 and the depositions of slaves and persons who sojourned in 
 Athens. But his enemies took advantage of his absence to 
 bring new matter of impeachment, adding to the mutilating of 
 the statues his sacrilegious behaviour with respect to the mys¬ 
 teries, ana alleging that both these crimes flowed from the 
 same sonice;f a conspiracy to change the government. All 
 that were accused of being any wise concerned in it, they com¬ 
 mitted to prison unheard; and they repented exceedingly that 
 they had not immediately brought Alcibiades to his trial, and 
 got him condemned upon so heavy a charge. While this fury 
 lasted, every relation, every friend and acquaintance of his, 
 was very severely dealt with by the people. 
 
 Thucydides has omitted the names of the accusers, but 
 
 * The second year of the eighty-first Olympiad, and seventeenth of the Pe¬ 
 loponnesian war. 
 
 ■f By surprise.— Thucyd. lib. vi. 
 
 i They gave out, that he had entered into a conspiracy to betray the city 
 to the Lacedaemonians, and that he hid persuaded the Argives to undertake 
 something to their prejudice. 
 
 34 
 
ALC1AIADES. 
 
 382 
 
 others mention Dioclides and Teucer. So Phrynichus, the 
 «*omic poet, 
 
 Good Hermes, pray beware a fall; nor break 
 Thy marble nose, lest some false Dioclides 
 Once more his shafts in fatal poison drench. 
 
 Merc. I will; nor e’er again shall that informer 
 Teucer, that faithless stranger, boast from me 
 Rewards for perjury. 
 
 Indeed, no clear or strong evidence was given by the in 
 formers.* One of them being asked how he could distinguish 
 the faces of those who disfigured the statues, answered, that 
 he discerned them by the light of the moon; which was a plain 
 falsity, for it was done at the time of the moon’s change. All 
 persons of understanding exclaimed against such baseness, but 
 this detection did not in the least pacify the people; they went 
 on with the same rage and violence with which they had be¬ 
 gun, taking informations, and committing all to prison whose 
 names were given in. 
 
 Among those that were then imprisoned, in order to their 
 trial, was the orator Andocides, whom Hellanicus the histo¬ 
 rian reckons among the descendants of Ulysses. He was 
 thought to be no friend to a popular government, but a favour¬ 
 er of oligarchy. What contributed not a little to his being sus¬ 
 pected of having some concern in defacing the Hezmae, was, 
 that the great statue of Mercury, wdiich was placed near his 
 house, being consecrated to that god by the tribe called the 
 iEge’fs, was almost the only one, amongst the more remarka¬ 
 ble, which was left entire. Therefore, to this day it is called 
 the Hermes of Andocides, and that title universally prevails, 
 though the inscription does not agree with it. 
 
 It happened, that among those who were imprisoned on the 
 same account, Andocides contracted an acquaintance and 
 friendship with one Timseus, a man not equal in rank to him¬ 
 self, but of uncommon parts and a daring spirit. He advised 
 Andocides to accuse himself and a few more; because the de¬ 
 cree promised impunity to any one that would confess and in¬ 
 form, whereas the event of the trial was uncertain to all, and 
 much to be dreaded by such of them as were persons of dis¬ 
 tinction. He represented that it was better to save his life by 
 a falsity, than to suffer an infamous death as one really guilty 
 of the crime; and that with respect to the public, it would 
 be an advantage to give up a few persons of dubious character, 
 
 ♦- ctnidut The translation of 1758 renders it pregnant 
 
 moofs; though Plutarch observes, a little lower, that the proofs were very 
 weak, and the evidence false and inconsistent 
 
AJLCIBIADES. 383 
 
 in order to rescue many good men from an enraged popu 
 lace. 
 
 Andocides was prevailed upon by these arguments of Ti- 
 mseus: and informing against himself and some others, enjoy 
 ed the impunity promised by the decree, but all the rest whom 
 he named were capitally punished, except a few that fled. 
 Nay, to procure the greater credit to his deposition, he ac 
 cused even his own servants. 
 
 However, the fury of the people was not so satisfied; but 
 turning from the persons who had disfigured the Hermse, as if 
 it had reposed awhile only to recover its strength, it fell total¬ 
 ly upon Alcibiades. At last they sent the Salaminian galley 
 to fetch him, artfully enough ordering their officer not to use 
 violence, or to lay hold on his person, but to behave to him 
 with civility, and to acquaint him with the people’s orders, 
 that he should go and take his trial, and clear himself before 
 them; for they were apprehensive of some tumult and mutiny 
 in the army, now it was in an enemy’s country, which Alci- 
 biades, had he been so disposed, might have raised with all 
 the ease in the world. Indeed, the soldiers expressed great 
 uneasiness at his leaving them, and expected that the war 
 would be spun out to a great length by the dilatory counsels 
 of Nicias, when the spur was taken away. Lamachus, in¬ 
 deed, was bold and brave, but he was wanting both in dignity 
 and weight, by reason of his poverty. 
 
 Alcibiades immediately embarked;* the consequence of 
 which was, that the Athenians could not take Messena. 
 There were persons in the town ready to betray it, whom 
 Alcibiades perfectly knew; and as he apprised some that were 
 friends to the Syracusans of their intention, the affair mis¬ 
 carried. 
 
 As soon as he arrived at Thurii, he went on shore, and con 
 cealing himself there, eluded the search which was made after 
 him. But some person knowing him, and saying,—“Will 
 not you, then, trust your country?” he answered,—“As to 
 any thing else I will trust her; but with my life I would not 
 trust even my mother, lest she should mistake a black bean 
 for a white one.” Afterwards, being told that the republic 
 bad condemned him to die, he said,—“But I will make them 
 find that I am alive.” 
 
 The information against him ran thus:—“ Thessalus, the 
 son of Cimon, of the ward of Licias, accuseth Alcibiades, the 
 son of Clinias, of the ward of Scambonis, of sacrilegiously 
 offending the goddesses Ceres and Proserpine, by counterfeit- 
 
 * He pruden + ly embarked on a ressel of his own, and not on the Salami- 
 nan g-alley. 
 
384 
 
 ALCI131ADES. 
 
 jug their mysteries, and showing them to his companions in 
 his own house: wearing such a robe as the high-priest does 
 while he shows the holy things, he called himself high-priest, 
 as he did Polytion, torch-bearer, and Theodorus, of the ward 
 of Phygea, herald; and the rest of his companions he called 
 persons initiated ,* and brethren of the secret; herein acting con¬ 
 trary to the rules and ceremonies established by the Eumol- 
 pidae,t the heralds and priests at Eleusis.” As he did not ap¬ 
 pear, they condemned him, confiscated his goods, and ordered 
 all the priests and priestesses to denounce an execration against 
 him; which was denounced accordingly by all but Theano the 
 daughter of Menon, priestess of the temple of Agraulus, who 
 excused herself, alleging that she was a priestess for prayer, not 
 for execration . 
 
 While these decrees and sentences were passing against Al- 
 cibiades, he was at Argos; having quitted Thurii, which no 
 longer afforded him a safe asylum, to come into Peloponnesus. 
 Still dreading his enemies, and giving up all hopes of being 
 restored to his country, he sent to Sparta to desire permission 
 to live there under the protection of the public faith, promis¬ 
 ing to serve that state more effectually, now he was their 
 friend, than he had annoyed them whilst their enemy. The 
 Spartans granting him a safe conduct, and expressing their 
 readiness to receive him, he went thither with pleasure. One 
 thing he soon effected, w T hich w^as to procure succours for 
 Syracuse without further hesitation or delay, having persuad¬ 
 ed them to send Gylippus thither, to take upon him the di¬ 
 rection of the war, and to crush the Athenian power in Sicily. 
 Another thing which he persuaded them to, was to declare 
 war against the Athenians, and to begin its operations on the 
 continent: and the third, which was the most important of all, 
 w T as to get Decelea fortified; for this being in tne neighbour¬ 
 hood of Athens, was productive of great mischief to that com¬ 
 monwealth. J 
 
 * The Mystae , or persons initiated, were to remain a year under proba¬ 
 tion, during which time they were to go no farther than the vestibule of 
 the temple; after that term was expired they were called epoptae , and 
 admitted to all the mysteries, except such as were reserved for the priests 
 
 oi y. 
 
 •| Eumolpus was the first who settled these mysteries of Ceres, for which 
 reason his descendants had the care of them after him; and when his line 
 failed, those who succeeded in the function, were, notwithstanding, called 
 Eumolpidx. 
 
 t Agis, king of Sparta, at the head of a very numerous army of Lacedemo¬ 
 nians, Corinthians, and other nations of Peloponnesus, invaded Attica, and 
 according to the advice which Alcibiades had given, seized and fortified 
 Decelea, which stood at an equal distance from Athens and the frontiers of 
 Hcrotia, bv means of which the Athenians were now deprived of the profits 
 
alcibiades. 
 
 385 
 
 These measures procured Alcibiades the public approbation 
 at Sparta, and he was no less admired for his manner of living 
 in private. By conforming to their diet and other austerities, 
 he charmed and captivated the pei pie. When they saw him 
 close shaved, bathing in cold water, feeding on their coarse 
 bread, or eating their black broth, they could hardly believe 
 that such a man had ever kept a cook in his house, seen a per¬ 
 fumer, or worn a robe of Milesian purple It seems, that 
 amongst his other qualifications, he had the very extraordi¬ 
 nary art of engaging the affections of those with whom he 
 conversed, by imitating and adopting their customs and way 
 of living. Nay, he turned himself into all manners of forms 
 with more ease than the chameleon changes his colour. It is 
 not, we are told, in that animal’s power to assume a white, 
 but Alcibiades could adapt himself either to good or bad, and 
 did not find any thing which he attempted impracticable. 
 Thus, at Sparta he was all for exercise, frugal in his diet, and 
 severe in his manners. In Asia he was as much for mirth and 
 pleasure, luxury and ease In Thrace again, riding and drink¬ 
 ing were his favourite amusements; and in the palace of Tissa- 
 phernes the Persian grandee, he outvied the Persians them¬ 
 selves in pomp and splendour. Not that he could with so 
 much ease change his real manners, or approve in his heart the 
 form which he assumed; but because he knew that his native 
 manners would be unacceptable to those whom he happened 
 to be with, he immediately conformed to the ways and fashions 
 of whatever place he came to. When he was at Lacedaemon, 
 if you regarded only his outside, you would say, as the pro¬ 
 verb does; This is not the son of Achilles, hut Achilles himself 
 this man has surely been brought up under the eye of Lycur- 
 gus: but then if you looked more nearly into his disposition 
 and his actions, you would exclaim with Electra in the poet, 
 The same weak woman still!* For while king Agis was employ¬ 
 ed in a distant expedition, he corrupted his wife Timaca so 
 effectually, that she was with child him, and did not pre¬ 
 tend to deny it, and when she was delivered of a son, though 
 in public she called him Leotychidas, yet in her own house 
 she whispered to her female friends and to her servants, that 
 
 of the silver mines, of the rents of their lands, and of the succours of their 
 neighbours. But the greatest misfortune which happened to the Athenians, 
 from the beginning of the war to tins time, was that which befel them this 
 year in Sicily, where they not only lost the conquest they aimed at, to¬ 
 gether with the reputation they had so long maintained, but their fleet, 
 their army, and their generals. 
 
 *This is sp.oken of Hermione, in the Orestes of Euripides, upon her dis¬ 
 covering the same vanity and solicitude about her beauty, when advanced 
 in years, that she had when she was young. 
 
 Vol. i.-3 E 34* 
 
386 
 
 ALCIBIADES. 
 
 his true name was Alcibiades: to such a degree was the wo¬ 
 man transported by her passion. And Alcibiades himself, 
 indulging his vein of mirth, used to say, “ His motive was 
 not to injure the king, or to satisfy his appetite, but that his 
 offspring might one day sit on the throne of Lacedremon.” 
 Agis had information of these matters from several hands, and 
 he was the more ready to give credit to them, because they 
 agreed with the time. Terrified with an earthquake, he had 
 quitted his wife’s chamber, to which he returned not for the 
 next ten months: at the end of which Leotychidas being born, 
 he declared the child was not his; and for this reason he was 
 never suffered to inherit the crown of Sparta. 
 
 After the miscarriage of the Athenians in Sicily, the people 
 of Chios, of Lesbos, and Cyzicum, sent to treat with the 
 Spartans about quitting the interests of Athens, and putting 
 themselves under the protection of Sparta. The Boeotians on 
 this occasion solicited for the Lesbians, and Pharnabazus for 
 the people of Cyzicum; but, at the persuasion of Alcibiades, 
 succours were sent to those of Chios before all others. He 
 likewise passed over into Ionia, and prevailed with almost all 
 that country to revolt; and attending the Lacedaemonian gene* 
 rals in the execution of most of their commissions, he did 
 great prejudice to the Athenians. 
 
 But Agis, who was already his enemy, on account of the 
 injury done to his bed, could not endure his glory and pros¬ 
 perity; for most of the present successes were ascribed to Al¬ 
 cibiades. The great and the ambitious among the Spartans 
 were indeed, in general, touched with envy; and had influence 
 enough with the civil magistrate, to procure orders to be sent 
 to their friends in Ionia to kill him. But timely foreseeing 
 his danger, and cautioned by his fears, in every step he took, 
 he still served the Lacedaemonians, taking care all the while 
 not to put himself in their power. Instead of that, he sought 
 the protection of Tissaphernes, one of the grandees of Persia, 
 or lieutenants of the king. With this Persian he soon attained 
 the highest credit and authority; for himself a very subtle and 
 insincere man, he admired the art and keenness of Alcibiades. 
 Indeed, by the elegance of his conversation, and the charms 
 of his politeness, every man was gained, all hearts were touch 
 ed Even those that feared and envied him were not insenu- 
 ble to pleasure in his company; and while they enjoyed it, 
 their resentment was disarmed. Tissaphernes, in all other 
 cases savage in his temper, and the bitterest enemy tha 
 Greece experienced among the Persians, gave himself up, not 
 withstanding, to the flatteries of Alcibiades, insomuch that he 
 even vied with and exceeded him in address. For of all his 
 gardens, that which excelled in beauty, which was remarka 
 
ALCIBIADES* 
 
 387 
 
 ble for the salubrity of its streams and the freshness of its mea¬ 
 dows, which was set off with pavilions royally adorned, and 
 retirements finished in the most elegant taste, he distinguish¬ 
 ed by the name of Alcibiades; and every one continued to give it 
 that appellation. 
 
 Rejecting, therefore, the interests of Lacedaemon, and fear 
 ing that people as treacherous to him, he represented them and 
 their king Agis in a disadvantageous light to Tissaphernes. 
 He advised him not to assist them effectually, nor absolutely 
 to ruin the Athenians, but to send his subsidies to Sparta with 
 a sparing hand; that so the two powers might insensibty weak¬ 
 en and consume each other, and both at last be easily subject¬ 
 ed to the king. Tissaphernes readily followed his counsels, and 
 it was evident to all the world that he held him in the greatest 
 admiration and esteem, which made him equally considerable 
 with the Greeks of both parties. The Athenians repented of 
 the sentence they had passed upon him, because they had suf¬ 
 fered for it since; and Alcibiades, on his side, was under some 
 fear and concern, lest, if their republic were destroyed, he 
 should fall into the hands of the Lacedaemonians, who hated 
 him. 
 
 At that time the whole strength of the Athenians lay at Sa¬ 
 mos. With their ships sent out from thence, they recovered 
 some of the towns which had revolted, and others they kept to 
 their duty; and at sea they were in some measure able to make 
 head against their enemies. But they were afraid of Tissa¬ 
 phernes, and the Phoenician fleet of a hundred and fifty ships, 
 which were said to be coming against them; for against such 
 a force they could not hope to defend themselves. Alcibiades, 
 apprised of this, privately sent a messenger to the principal 
 Athenians at Samos, to give them hopes that he would pro¬ 
 cure them the friendship of Tissaphernes; not to recommend 
 himself to the people, whom he could not trust, but to oblige 
 the nobility, if they would but exert their superiority, repress 
 the insolence of the commonalty, and taking the government 
 into their own hands, by that means save their country. 
 
 All the officers readily embraced his proposal, except Phry- 
 nichus, who was of the ward of Dirades. He alone suspected 
 what was really the case, that it was a matter of very little con¬ 
 sequence to Alcibiades whether an oligarchy or democracy 
 prevailed in Athens; that it was his business to get himself 
 recalled by any means whatever; and that therefore, by his in¬ 
 vectives against the people, he wanted only to insinuate him¬ 
 self into the good graces of the nobility. Upon these reasons 
 proceeded the opposition of Phrynichus; but seeing his opinion 
 disregarded, and that Alcibiades must certainly become his 
 enemy, he gave secret intelligence to Astyochus the enemy’s 
 
^88 
 
 ALCIBIADES. 
 
 admiral, of the double part which Alcibiades acted, advising 
 him to beware cf his designs, and to secure his person. Bui 
 he knew not that while he was betraying, he was himself be¬ 
 trayed; for Astyochus, wanting to make his court to Tissa- 
 phernes, informed Alcibiades of the affair, who, he knew, had 
 the ear of that grandee. 
 
 Alcibiades immediately sent proper persons to Samos with 
 an accusation against Phrynichus; who seeing no other re¬ 
 source, as every body was against him, and expressed great 
 indignation at his behaviour, attempted to cure one evil with 
 another, and a greater; for he sent to Astyochus to complain 
 of his revealing his secret, and to offer to deliver up to him the 
 whole Athenian fleet and army. This treason of Phrynichus, 
 however, did no injury to the Athenians, because it was again 
 betrayed by Astyochus; for he laid the whole matter before 
 Alcibiades. Phrynichus had the sagacity to foresee and ex¬ 
 pect another accusation from Alcibiades; and to be beforehand 
 with him, he himself forewarned the Athenians that the enemy 
 would endeavour to surprise them, and therefore desired them 
 to be upon their guard, to keep on board their ships, and to 
 fortify their camp. 
 
 While the Athenians were doing this, letters came from Al¬ 
 cibiades again, advising them to beware of Phrynichus, who 
 had undertaken to betray their fleet to the enemy: but they 
 gave no credit to these despatches, supposing that Alcibiades, 
 who perfectly knew the preparations and intentions of the ene¬ 
 my, abused that knowledge to the raising of such a calumny 
 against Phrynichus. Yet afterwards, when Phrynichus w T as 
 stabbed in full assembly by one of Hermon’s soldiers, who 
 kept guard that day, the Athenians, taking cognizance of the 
 matter, after his death, condemned Phrynichus as guilty of trea¬ 
 son, and ordered Hermon and his party to be crowned for de¬ 
 spatching a traitor. 
 
 The friends of Alcibiades, who now had a superior interest 
 at Samos, sent Pisander to Athens, to change the form of go¬ 
 vernment, by* encouraging the nobility to assume it, and to de¬ 
 prive the people of their power and privileges, as the condi¬ 
 tion upon which Alcibiades would procure them the friendship 
 and alliance of Tissaphernes. This was the colour of the pre¬ 
 tence made use of by those who wanted to introduce an oli¬ 
 garchy. But when the body which were called the Jive thou¬ 
 sand, but in fact were only four hundred ,* had got the power 
 
 * It was at first proposed that only the dregs of the people should lose 
 their authority, which was to be vested in five thousand of the most wealthy, 
 who were for the future to be reputed the people. But when Pisander and 
 his associates found the strength of their party, they carried it that the old 
 form of government should be dissolved, and that five Pry tones should be 
 
ALCIB1ADES. 
 
 B89 
 
 into their hands, they paid but little attention to Alcibiades 9 
 and carried on the war but slowly; partly distrusting the citi¬ 
 zens, who did not yet relish the new form of government, and 
 partly hoping that the Lacedaemonians, who were always in¬ 
 clined to favour an oligarchy, would not press them with their 
 usual vigour. 
 
 Such of the commonalty as were at home, were silent 
 through fear, though much against their will; for a number of 
 those who had openly opposed the four hundred , were put to 
 death. But when they that were at Samos were informed of 
 the affair, they were highly incensed at it, and inclined imme¬ 
 diately to set sail for the Piraeus. In the first place, however, 
 they sent for Alcibiades; and having appointed him their ge¬ 
 neral, ordered him to lead them against the tyrants, and de 
 molish both them and their power. On such an occasion, al 
 most any other man, suddenly exalted by the favour of the 
 multitude, would have thought he must have complied with 
 all their humours, and not have contradicted those in any 
 thing, who, from a fugitive and a banished man, had raised him 
 to be commander-in-chief of such a fleet and army. But he 
 behaved as became a great general, and prevented their plung¬ 
 ing into error through the violence of their rage. This care 
 of his evidently was the saving of the commonwealth. For if 
 they had sailed home, as they promised, the enemy would 
 have seized on Ionia immediately, and have gained the Hel¬ 
 lespont and the islands without striking a stroke; while the 
 Athenians would have been engaged in a civil war, of which 
 Athens itself must have been the seat. All this was prevented 
 chiefly by Alcibiades, who not only tried what arguments 
 would do with the army in general, and informed them of their 
 danger, but applied to them one by one, using entreaties to 
 some and force to others; in which he was assisted by the loud 
 harangues of Thrasybulus, of the ward of Stira; who attended 
 him through the whole, and had the strongest voice of any 
 man among the Athenians. 
 
 Another great service performed by Alcibiades was, his un¬ 
 dertaking that the Phoenician fleet, which the Lacedaemonians 
 expected from the king of Persia, should eitner join the Athe¬ 
 nians, or at least not act on the enemy’s side. In consequence 
 of this promise he set out as expeditiously as possible; and 
 prevailed upon Tissaphernes not to forward the ships, which 
 were already come as far as Aspendus, but to disappoint and 
 deceive the Lacedaemonians. Nevertheless, both sides, and 
 
 elected; that these five should choose a hundred; that each of the hundred 
 should choose three; that the four hundred thus elected should become a 
 senate with supreme power, and should consult the five thousand only when 
 and on such matters as they thought fit. 
 
390 
 
 AL JIBIADES. 
 
 particularly the Lacedaemonians, accused Alcibiades of hin 
 dering that fleet from coming to their aid; for they supposed 
 he had instructed the Persians to leave the Greeks to destroy 
 each other. And, indeed, it was obvious enough that such a 
 force added to either side, would entirely have deprived the 
 other of the dominion of the sea. 
 
 After this, the four hundred were soon quashed,* the friends 
 of Alcibiades very readily assisting those who were for a de¬ 
 mocracy. And now the people of the city not only wished 
 for him, but commanded him to return;! yet he thought it not 
 best to return with empty hands, or without having effected 
 something worthy of note, but instead of being indebted to the 
 compassion and favour of the multitude, to distinguish his ap¬ 
 pearance by his merit. Parting, therefore, from Samos with 
 a few ships, he cruised on the sea of Cnidus and about the isle 
 of Coos, where he got intelligence that Mindarus the Spartan 
 admiral, was sailed with his whole fleet towards the Helles¬ 
 pont, to find out the Athenians. This made him hasten to the 
 assistance of the latter, and fortunately enough he arrived 
 with his eighteen ships at the very juncture of time, when the 
 two fleets having engaged near Abydos, continued the fight 
 from morning until night, one side having the advantage in 
 the right wing, and the other on the left. J 
 
 On the appearance of his squadron, both sides entertained 
 a false opinion of the end of his coming; for the Spartans were 
 encouraged, and the Athenians struck with terror. But he 
 soon hoisted the Athenian flag on the admiral galley, and bore 
 down directly upon the Peloponnesians, who now had the ad¬ 
 vantage, and were urging the pursuit. His vigorous impres¬ 
 sion put them to flight, and following them close he drove them 
 ashore, destroying their ships, and killing such of their men 
 as endeavoured to save themselves by swimming, though 
 Pharnabazus succoured them all he could from the shore, and 
 with an armed force attempted to save their vessels. The con¬ 
 clusion was, fuat the Athenians, having taken thirty of the ene¬ 
 my’s ships, and recovered their own, erected a trophy. 
 
 After this glorious success, Alcibiades, ambitious to show 
 himself as soon as possible to Tissaphernes, prepared presents 
 and other proper acknowledgments for his friendship and hos- 
 
 * The same year that they were set up, which was the second of the ninety- 
 second Olympiad. The reader must carefully distinguish this faction of 
 four hundred from the senate of four hundred established by Solon, which 
 these turned out the few months they were in power. 
 
 ■j" Ai/TOC CDiTCD fitv X&VCili fAvf* *7rp*X’'T(,tC. 
 
 $ Thucydides does not speak of this arrival of Alcibiades; but probably 
 he did not live to have a clear account of this action, for he died this yeai 
 Xenonhon, who continued his history, mentions it. 
 
ALCIBIADES. 
 
 39.1 
 
 pitality, and then went to wait upon him with a rmncely train. 
 But he was not welcomed in the manner he expected: for Tis* 
 saphernes, who for some time had been accused by the Lace¬ 
 daemonians, and was apprehensive that the charge might reach 
 the king's ear, thought the coming of Alcibiades a very sea 
 sonable incident, and therefore put him under arrest, and con¬ 
 fined him at Sardis, imagining that injurious proceeding would 
 be a means to clear himself. 
 
 Thirty days after, Alcibiades having by some means or 
 other obtained a horse, escaped from his keepers, and fled to 
 Clazomenae; and, by way of revenge, he pretended that Tis- 
 saphernes privately set him at liberty. From thence he pass¬ 
 ed to the place where the Athenians were stationed; and being 
 informed, that Mindarus and Pharnabazus were together at 
 Cyzicum, he showed the troops that it was necessary for them 
 to fight both by sea and land, nay, even to fight with stone 
 walls, if that should be required, in order to come at their 
 enemies: for if the victory were not complete and universal, 
 they could come at no money. Then he embarked the force, 
 and sailed to Proconesus, where he ordered them to take the 
 lighter vessels into the middle of the fleet, and to have a par¬ 
 ticular care that the enemy might not discover that he was 
 coming against them. A great and sudden rain which hap¬ 
 pened to fall at that time, together with dreadful thunder and 
 darkness, was of great service in covering his operations. 
 For not only the enemy were ignorant of his design, but the 
 very Athenians, whom he had ordered in great haste on 
 board, did not presently perceive that he was under sail 
 Soon after the weather cleared up, and the Peloponnesian 
 ships were seen riding at anchor in the road of Cyzicum. 
 Lest, therefore, the enemy should be alarmed at the largeness 
 of his fleet, and save themselves by getting on shore, he di¬ 
 rected many of the officers to slacken sail, and keep out of 
 sight, while he showed himself, with forty ships only, and 
 challenged the Lacedaemonians to the combat. The stratagem 
 had its effect; for, despising the small number of galleys which 
 they saw, they immediately weighed anchor, and engaged; 
 but the rest of the Athenian ships coming up during the en¬ 
 gagement, the Lacedaemonians were struck with terror and 
 lied. Upon that Alcibiades, with twenty of his best ships, 
 breaking through the midst of them, hastened to the shore, 
 and having made a descent, pursued those that fled from the 
 ships, and killed great numbers of them. He likewise de¬ 
 feated Mindarus and Pharnabazus, who came to their succour. 
 Mindarus made a brave resistance, - \nd was slain; but Pharna¬ 
 bazus saved himself by flight. 
 
 The Athenians remained masters of the field, and of the 
 
392 
 
 ALCIBIADES 
 
 spoils, and took all the enemy’s ships. Having also possessed 
 themselves of Cyzicum, which was abandoned by Pharnaba¬ 
 zus, and deprived of the assistance of the Peloponnesians, whc 
 were almost all cut ofF, they not only secured the Hellespont, 
 but entirely cleared the sea of the Lacedsemonians. The let¬ 
 ter also was intercepted, which, in the laconic style, was to 
 give the Ephori an account of their misfortune. “Our glory 
 is faded. Mindarus is slain. Our soldiers are starving; and 
 we know not what step to take.” 
 
 On the other hand, Alcibiades’s men were so elated, and 
 took so much upon them, because they had always been vic¬ 
 torious, that they would not vouchsafe even to mix with othei 
 troops that had been sometimes beaten. It happened, not 
 long before, that Thrasyllus having miscarried in his attempt 
 upon Ephesus, the Ephesians erected a trophy of brass, in re 
 proach of the Athenians.* The soldiers of Alcibiades, there 
 fore, upbraided those of Thrasyllus with this affair, magnify¬ 
 ing themselves and their general, and disdaining to join the 
 others either in the place of exercise or in the camp. But 
 soon after, when Pharnabazus, with a strong body of horse 
 and foot, attacked the forces of Thrasyllus, who were ravag¬ 
 ing the country about Abydos, Alcibiades marched to their 
 assistance, routed the enemy, and, together with Thrasyllus, 
 pursued them uniil night. Then he admitted Thrasyllus into 
 his company, and, with mutual civilities and satisfaction, they 
 returned to the camp. Next day he erected a trophy, and 
 plundered the province which was under Pharnabazus, with¬ 
 out the least opposition. The priests and priestesses he made 
 prisoners, among the rest, but soon dismissed them, without 
 ransom. From thence he intended to proceed and lay siege 
 to Chalcedon, which had withdrawn its allegiance from the 
 Athenians, and received a Lacedaemonian garrison and go¬ 
 vernor; but being informed that the Chalcedonians had col¬ 
 lected their cattle and corn, and sent it all to the Bithynians, 
 their friends, he led his army to the frontier of the Bithynians, 
 and sent a herald before him, to summon them to surrender it. 
 They, dreading his resentment, gave up the booty, and en 
 lered into an alliance with him. 
 
 Afterwards he returned to the siege of Chalcedon, and en 
 closed it with a wall which reached from sea to sea. Pharna 
 bazus advanced to raise the siege, and Hippocrates the go 
 pernor, sallied out with his whole force to attack the Athe- 
 
 * Trophies before had been of wood, but the Ephesians erected this of 
 brass, to perpetuate the infamy of the Athenians, and it was this new and 
 mortifying' circumstance with which Alcibiades’s soldiers reproached those 
 tjf Thrasyllus.— Diodor. lib. xiii. 
 
ALCIBIADES. 
 
 393 
 
 Qians; but Alcibiades drew up his army so as to engage them 
 both at once, and he defeated them both; Pharnabazus betak¬ 
 ing himself to flight, and Hippocrates being killed, together 
 with the greatest part of his troops. • This done, he sailed in¬ 
 to Ihe Hellespont, to raise contributions in the towns upon the 
 coast. 
 
 In this voyage he took Selybria; but in the action unneces¬ 
 sarily exposed himself to great danger. The persons who 
 promised to surrender the town to him, agreed to give him a 
 signal at midnight with a lighted torch; but they were obliged 
 to do it before the time, for fear of some one that was in the 
 secret, who suddenly altered his mind. The torch, therefore, 
 being held up before the army was ready, Alcibiades took 
 about thirty men with him, and ran to the walls, having or¬ 
 dered the rest to follow as fast as possible. The gate was 
 opened to him; and twenty of the conspirators, lightly armed, 
 joining his small company, he advanced with great spirit, but 
 soon perceived the Selybrians, with their weapons in their 
 hands, coming forward to attack him. As to stand and fight 
 promised no sort of success, and he, who to that hour had 
 never been defeated, did not choose to fly, he ordered a trum¬ 
 pet to command silence, and proclamation to be made, that the 
 Selybrians should not , under the pain of the republic’s high dis 
 pleasure, take up arms against the Athenians. Their inclination 
 to the combat was then immediately damped, partly from a 
 supposition that the whole Athenian army was within the walls, 
 and partly from the hopes they conceived of coming to tolera¬ 
 ble terms. Whilst they were talking together of this order, 
 the Athenian army came up, and Alcibiades rightly conjectur¬ 
 ing that the inclinations of the Selybrians were for peace, was 
 afraid of giving the Thracians an opportunity to plunder the 
 :own. These last came down in great numbers to serve under 
 nim as volunteers, from a particular attachment to his person, 
 out, on this occasion, he sent them all out of the town; and, 
 upon the submission of the Selybrians, he saved them from 
 being pillaged, demanding only a sum of money, and leaving 
 a garrison in the place. 
 
 Mean time, the other generals, who carried on the siege of 
 Chalcedon, came to an agreement with Pharnabazus, on these 
 conditions; namely, that a sum of money should be paid them 
 by Pharnabazus; that the Chalcedonians should return to their 
 allegiance to the republic of Athens; and that no injury should 
 ne done the province of which Pharnabazus was governor, who 
 undertook that the Athenian ambassadors should be conducted 
 safe to the king. Upon the return of Alcibiades, Pharnabazus 
 desired that he too would swear to the performance of the ar 
 tides; but Alcibiades insisted that Pharnabazus should sweaj 
 Vol. i -3 F 3,5 
 
394 
 
 ALCIBIADES. 
 
 first. When the treaty was reciprocally confirmed with an 
 oath, Alcibiades went against Byzantium, which had revolted, 
 and drew a line of circumvallation about the city. While he 
 was thus employed, Anaxilaus, Lycurgus, and some others, 
 secretly promised to deliver up the place, on condition that he 
 would keep it from being plundered. Hereupon he caused it 
 to be reported, that certain weighty and unexpected affairs 
 called him back to Ionia, and in the day-time he set sail, with 
 his whole fleet; but returning at night, he himself disembark 
 ed with the land forces, and posting them under the walls, he 
 commanded them not to make the least noise. At the same 
 time, the ships made for the harbour, and the crews pressing 
 in, with loud shouts and great tumult, astonished the Byzan¬ 
 tines, who expected no such matter. Thus an opportunity 
 was given to those within the walls, who favoured the Athe¬ 
 nians, to receive them in great security, while every body’s 
 attention was engaged upon the harbour and the ships. 
 
 The affair passed not, however, without blows; for the Pe¬ 
 loponnesians, Boeotians, and Megarensians, who were at By¬ 
 zantium, having driven the ships’ crews back to their vessels, 
 and perceiving that the Athenian land forces were got into the 
 town, charged them too with great vigour. The dispute was 
 sharp, and the shock great, but victory declared for Alcibiades 
 and Theramenes. The former of these generals commanded 
 the right wing, and the latter the left. About three hundred 
 of the enemy, who survived, were taken prisoners. Not one 
 of the Byzantines, after the battle, was either put to death or 
 banished; for such were the terms on which the town was 
 given up, that the citizens should be safe in their persons and 
 their goods. 
 
 Hence it was, that when Anaxilaus was tried at Lacedaemon 
 for treason, he made a defence which reflected no disgrace 
 upon his past behaviour; for he told them,—“That not being 
 a Lacedaemonian, but a Byzantine, and seeing not Lacedaemon 
 but Byzantium in danger, its communication with those that 
 might have relieved it stopped, and the Peloponnesians and 
 Boeotians eating up the provisions that were left while the 
 Byzantines, with their wives and children, were starving; he 
 had not betrayed the town to an enemy, but delivered it from 
 calamity and war; herein imitating the worthiest men among 
 the Lacedaemonians, who had no other rule of justice and ho¬ 
 nour, but by all possible means to serve their country.” The 
 Lacedaemonians were so much pleased with this speech, that 
 they acquitted him, and all that were concerned with him. 
 
 Alcibiades, by this time, desirous to see his native country, 
 and still more desirous to be seen by his countrymen, after so 
 m v:i.Y glorious victories, set sail with the Athenian fleet, adorn- 
 
ALCIBIADES. 
 
 395 
 
 ed with many shields, and other spoils of the enemy; a greaj 
 number of ships that he had taken making up the rear, and the 
 flags of many more which he had destroyed, being carried in 
 triumph; for all of them together were not fewer than two 
 hundred. But as to what is added by Duris the Samian, who 
 boasts of his being descended from Alcibiades, that the oars 
 kept time to the flute of Chrysogonus, who had been victori¬ 
 ous in the Pythian games; that Callipides the tragedian, attir- 
 eA in his buskins, magnificent robes, and other theatrical or¬ 
 naments, gave orders to those who laboured at the oars; and 
 that the admiral galley entered the harbour with a purple sail, 
 as if the whole had been a company who had proceeded from 
 a debauch to such a frolic. These are particulars not mention¬ 
 ed either by Theopompus, Ephorus, or Xenophon. Nor is it 
 probable that, at his return from exile, and after such misfor¬ 
 tunes as he had suffered, he would insult the Athenians in that 
 manner. So far from it that he approached the shore with 
 some fear and caution; nor did he venture to disembark, until, 
 as he stood upon the deck, he saw his cousin Euryptolemus, 
 with many others of his friends and relations, coming to re¬ 
 ceive and invite him to land. 
 
 When he was landed, the multitude that came out to meet 
 him, did not vouchsafe so much as to look upon the other gem 
 erals, but crowding up to him with shouts of joy, conducted 
 him on the way, and such as could approach him, crowned 
 him with garlands; while those that could not come up so close, 
 viewed him at a distance, and the old men pointed him out to 
 the young. Many tears were mixed with the public joy, and 
 the memory of past misfortunes with the sense of their present 
 success; for they concluded that they should not have miscar¬ 
 ried in Sicily, or indeed have failed in any of their expecta¬ 
 tions, if they had left the direction of affairs, and the command 
 of the forces, to Alcibiades; since now having exerted himself 
 in behalf of Athens, when it had almost lost its dominion of 
 the sea, was hardly able to defend its own suburbs, and was 
 moreover harassed with intestine broils, he had raised it from 
 that low and ruinous condition, so as not only to restore its 
 maritime power, but to render it victorious every where by 
 land 
 
 The act for recalling him from banishment had been passed, 
 at the motion of Critias the son of Callaeschrus,* as appears 
 
 * This Critias was uncle to Plato’s mother, and the same that he intro¬ 
 duces in his Dialogues. Though now the friend of Alcibiades, yet, as the 
 lust of power destroys all tics, when one of the thirty tyrants, he became 
 his bitter enemy, and sending to Lysander, assured him that Athens would 
 never be quiet., or Sparta safe, until Alcibiades was destroyed. Critias wan 
 
396 
 
 ALCIB1ADES. 
 
 from his elegies, in which he puts Alcibiades in mind of his 
 service 
 
 If you no more in hapless exile mourn. 
 
 The. praise is mine.- 
 
 The p3ople presently meeting in full assembly, Alcibiades 
 came in among them, and having, in a pathetic manner, be¬ 
 wailed his misfortunes, he very modestly complained of their 
 treatment, ascribing all to his hard fo une, and the influence 
 of some envious demon. He then proceeded to discourse of 
 the hopes and designs of their enemies, against whom he used 
 his utmost endeavours to animate them. And they were so 
 much pleased with his harangue, that they crowned him with 
 crowns of gold, and gave him the absolute command of their 
 forces, both by sea and land. They likewise made a decree, 
 that his estate should be restored to him, and that the Eumol- 
 pidae and the heralds should take off the execrations which 
 they had pronounced against him, by order of the people. 
 Whilst the rest were employed in expiations for this purpose, 
 Theodorus, the high priest, said,—“For his part, he had never 
 denounced any curse against him, if he had done no injury to 
 the commonwealth.” 
 
 Amidst this glory and prosperity of Alcibiades, some peo¬ 
 ple were still uneasy, looking upon the time of his arrival as 
 ominous; for on that very day was kept the plynteria ,* or puri¬ 
 fying of the goddess Minerva. It was the twenty-fifth of 
 May, when the Praxiergidae perform those ceremonies which 
 are not to be revealed, disrobing the image, and covering it 
 up. Hence it is that the Athenians, of all days, reckon this 
 the most unlucky, and take the most care not to do business 
 upon it; and it seemed that the goddess did not receive him 
 graciously, but rather with aversion, since she hid her face 
 from him. Notwithstanding all this, every thing succeeded 
 according to his wish; three hundred galleys were manned, 
 and ready to put to sea again; but a laudable zeal detained him 
 until the celebration of the Mysteries.! For after the Lace¬ 
 daemonians had fortified Deceiea, which commanded the roads 
 to Eleusis, the feast was not kept with its usual pomp, because 
 
 afterwards slain by Thrasybulus, when he delivered Athens from that ty¬ 
 ranny. 
 
 * On that day, when the statue of Minerva was washed, the temples were 
 encompassed with a cord, to denote that they were shut up, as was cus¬ 
 tomary on all inauspicious days. They carried dried fig's in procession, bo - 
 cause that was the first fruit which was eaten after acorns. 
 
 j- The festival of Ceres and Proserpine continued nine days. On the sixtJb 
 day, they carried in procession to Eleusis the statue of Bacchus, whom they 
 aupposed to be the son of Jupiter and Ceres. 
 
ALCIBIADES. 
 
 397 
 
 they were obliged to conduct the procession by sea; the saer j 
 fices, the sacred dances, and other ceremonies, which had been 
 performed on the way, called holy, while the image of Bacchus 
 was carried in procession, being on that account necessarily 
 omitted. Alcibiades, therefore judged it would be an act 
 conducive to the honour of the gods, and to his reputation 
 with men, to restore those rites to their due solemnity, by 
 conducting the procession with his army, and guarding it 
 gainst the enemy. By that means, either king Agis would 
 be humbled, if he suffered it to pass unmolested; or, if he at¬ 
 tacked the convoy, Alcibiades would have a fight to maintain 
 in the cause of piety and religion, for the most venerable of its 
 mysteries, in the sight of his country, and all his fellow-citi¬ 
 zens would be witnesses of his valour. 
 
 When he had determined upon this, and communicated his 
 design to the Eumolpidse and the heralds, he placed sentinels 
 upon the eminences, and set out his advanced guard as soon 
 as it was light. Next he took the priests, the persons initia¬ 
 ted, and Ihose who had the charge of initiating others, and 
 •covering them with his forces, led them on in great order and 
 profound silence; exhibiting in that march a spectacle so august 
 and venerable, that those who did not envy him, declared he 
 had performed not only the office of a general, but of a high 
 priest. Not a man of the enemy dared to attack him, and he 
 conducted the procession back in great safety, which both ex¬ 
 alted him in his own thoughts, and gave the soldiery such an 
 opinion of him, that they considered themselves as invincible 
 while under his command; and he gained such an influence 
 over the mean and indigent part of the people, that they were 
 passionately desirous to see him invested with absolute power, 
 insomuch, that some of them applied to him in person, and 
 exhorted him, in order to quash the malignity of envy at once, 
 to abolish the privileges of the people, and the laws, and to 
 quell those busy spirits who would otherwise be the ruin of 
 the state; for then he might direct affairs, and proceed to ac¬ 
 tion, without fear of groundless impeachments. 
 
 What opinion he himself had of this proposal we know not; 
 but this is certain, that the principal citizens were so apprehen¬ 
 sive of his aiming at arbitrary power, that they got him to 
 embark as soon as possible: and the more to expedite the mat¬ 
 ter, they ordered, among other things, that he should have 
 the choice of his colleagues. Putting to sea, therefore, with 
 a fleet of a hundred ships, he sailed to the isle of Andros, 
 where he fought and defeated the Andrians, and such of the 
 Lacedaemonians as assisted them; but yet he did not take the 
 city, which gave his enemies the first occasion for the charge 
 which they afterwards brought against him. Indeed, if ever 
 35* 
 
398 
 
 ALCIBIADES 
 
 man was ruined by a high distinction of character, it was Alci 
 blades;* for his continual successes had procured such an 
 opinion of his courage and capacity, that when afterwards he 
 happened to fail in what he undertook, it was suspected to be 
 from want of inclination, and no one would believe it was from 
 want of ability. They thought nothing too hard for him, when 
 he pleased to exert himself. They hoped also to hear that 
 Chios was taken, and all Ionia reduced, and grew impatient 
 when every thing was not despatched as suddenly as they de¬ 
 sired. They never considered the smallness of his supplies; 
 and that, having to carry on the war against people who were 
 furnished out of the treasury of a great king, he was often 
 under the necessity of leaving his camp, to go in search of 
 money and provisions for his men. 
 
 This it was that gave rise to the last accusation against him. 
 Lysander the Lacedaemonian admiral, out of the money he 
 received from Cyrus, raised the wages of each mariner from 
 three oboli a-day to four; whereas it was with difficulty that 
 Alcibiades paid his men three. The latter, therefore, went 
 into Caria to raise money, leaving the fleet in charge with An¬ 
 tiochus,* who was an experienced seaman, but rash and incon¬ 
 siderate. Though he had express orders from Alcibiades to 
 let no provocation from the enemy bring him to hazard an en 
 gagement, yet, in his contempt of those orders, having taken 
 some troops on board his own galley and one more, he stood 
 for Ephesus, where the enemy lay; and as he sailed by the 
 heads of their ships, insulted them in the most insufferable 
 manner, both by words and actions. Lysander sent out a few 
 ships to pursue him; but as the whole Athenian fleet came up 
 to assist Antiochus, he drew out the rest of his, and gave bat¬ 
 tle and gained a complete victory. He slew Antiochus him¬ 
 self, took many ships and men, and erected a trophy. Upon 
 this disagreeable news, Alcibiades returned to Samos, from 
 whence he moved with the whole fleet, to offer Lysander bat¬ 
 tle; but Lysander, content with the advantage he had gained, 
 did not think proper to accept it. 
 
 Among the enemies which Alcibiades had in the army, 
 Thrasybulus the son of Thrason, being the most determined, 
 quitted the camp, and went to Athens, to impeach him. To 
 incense the people against him, he declared, in full assembly, 
 
 * It was not altogether the universality of his success that rendered Alci¬ 
 biades suspected, when he came short of public expectation. The dupli¬ 
 city of his character is obvious, from the whole account of his life. He paid 
 not the least regard to veracity in political matters; and it is not to be won¬ 
 dered if such principles made him continually obnoxious to the suspicion 
 •f the people. 
 
ALCIBIADES. 
 
 39: 
 
 that Alcibiades liad been the ruin of their affairs, and the 
 means of losing their ships, by his insolent and imprudent be¬ 
 haviour in command, and by leaving the direction of every 
 thing to persons who had got into credit with him, through 
 the great merit of drinking deep, and cracking seamen’s jokes, 
 whilst he was securely traversing the provinces to raise money, 
 indulging his love of liquor, or abandoning himself to his plea¬ 
 sures with the courtesans of Ionia and Abydos; and this at a 
 time when the enemy was stationed at a small distance from 
 his fleet. It was also objected to him, that he had built a cas¬ 
 tle in Thrace, near the city of Bisanthe, to be made use of as a 
 retreat for himself, as if he either could not, or would not, 
 live any longer in his own country. The Athenians giving 
 ear to these accusations, to show their resentment and dislike 
 to him, appointed new commanders of their forces. * 
 Alcibiades was no sooner informed of it, than consulting 
 his own safety, he entirely quitted the Athenian army; and 
 having collected a band of strangers, he made war, on his own 
 account, against those Thracians who acknowledged no king. 
 The booty he made raised him great sums; and, at the same 
 time, he defended the Grecian frontier against the barbarians 
 Tydeus, Menander, and Adimantus, the new-made generals, 
 being now at iEgos Potamos,t with all the ships which the 
 Athenians had left, used to stand out early every morning, 
 and offer battle to Lysander, whose station was at Lampsacus, 
 and then to return, and pass the day in a disorderly and care 
 less manner, as if they despised their adversary. This seem¬ 
 ed to Alcibiades, who was in the neighbourhood, a matter not 
 to be passed over without notice. He, therefore, went and 
 told the generals, J—“ He thought their station by no means 
 safe, in a place where there was neither town nor harbour; 
 that it was very inconvenient to have their provisions and 
 stores from so distant place as Sestos; and extremely danger¬ 
 ous to let their seamen go ashore, and wander about at their 
 p easure, whilst a fleet was observing them, which was under 
 the orders of one man, and the strictest discipline imaginable. 
 
 * They appointed ten generals- Xenopli. lib. i. 
 
 •j- Plutarch passes over almost three years; namely, the twenty-fifth of the 
 Peloponnesian war; the twenty-sixth, in which the Athenians obtained the 
 victory at Arginusae, and put six of the ten generals to death, upon a slight 
 accusation of their colleague Theramenes; and almost the whole twenty-se¬ 
 venth, towards the end of which the Athenians sailed to iEgo-s Potamos, 
 where they received the blow that is spoken of in this place. 
 
 i The officers at the head of the Grecian armies and navy, we sometime:! 
 call generals, and sometimes admirals, because they commonly cc n^anded 
 both by sea and land. 
 
ALCIBIADES. 
 
 100 
 
 He, therefore, advised them to remove their station to Ses 
 tos.” 
 
 The generals, however, gave no attention to what he said, 
 and Tydeus was so insolent as even to bid him begone, for 
 that, they, not he, were now to give orders. Alcibiades, sus¬ 
 pecting that there was some treachery in the case, retired, 
 telling his acquaintance, who *onducted him out of the camp 
 that if he had not been insulted in such an insupportable mar 
 ner by the generals, he would, in a few days, have obliged the 
 Lacedaemonians, however unwilling, either to come to an ac¬ 
 tion at sea, or else to quit their ships. This to some appear¬ 
 ed a vain boast; to others it seemed not at all improbable, 
 since he might have brought down a number of Thracian 
 archers and cavalry, to attack and harass the Lacedemonian 
 camp. * 
 
 The event soon showed that he judged right of the errors 
 which the Athenians had committed; for Lysander falling 
 upon them, when they least expected it, eight galleys only 
 escaped,t along with Conon; the rest, not much short of two 
 hundred, were taken and carried away, together with three 
 thousand prisoners, who were afterwards put to death. And 
 within a short time after Lysander took Athens itself, burnt 
 the shipping, and demolished the long walls. 
 
 Alcibiades, alarmed at the success of the Lacedaemonians, 
 who were now masters both at sea and land, retired into Bi- 
 thynia. Thither he ordered much treasure to be sent, and 
 took large sums wuth him, but still left more behind in the 
 castle w^here he had resided. In Bithynia he once more lost 
 great part of his substance, being stript by the Thracians there; 
 which determined him to go to Artaxerxes, and entreat hi? 
 protection. He imagined that the king, upon trial, would find 
 him no less serviceable than Themistocles had been, and he 
 had a better pretence to his patronage; for he was not going 
 to solicit the king’s aid against his countrymen, as Themisto¬ 
 cles had done, but for his country against its worst enemies. 
 He concluded that Pharnabazus was most likely to procure 
 him a safe conduct, and therefore went to him in Phrygia, 
 where he staid some time, making his court, and receiving 
 marks of respect. 
 
 It was a grief to the Athenians to be deprived of their pow- 
 *r and dominion; but when Lysander robbed them also of 
 
 * When a fleet remained some time at one particular station, there waj 
 generally a body of land-forces, and part of the mariners too, encamped up¬ 
 on the shore. 
 
 \ There was a ninth ship, called Paralus, which escaped, and carried th« 
 news of their defeat to Athens. Conon himself retired to Cyprus. 
 
ALCIBIADES. 
 
 401 
 
 their liberty, and put their city under the autnority of thirty 
 chiefs, they were still more miserably afflicted. Now their 
 affairs were ruined, they perceived with regret the measures 
 which would have saved them, and which they had neglected 
 to make use of; now they acknowledged their blindness and 
 errors, and looked upon their second quarrel with Alcibiades 
 as the greatest of those errors.—They had cast him off without 
 any offence of his; their anger had been grounded upon the ill 
 conduct of his lieutenant in losing a few ships; and their own 
 conduct had been still worse, in depriving the commonwealth 
 of the most excellent and valiant of all its generals. Yet 
 amidst their present misery there was one slight glimpse of 
 hope, that while Alcibiades survived, Athens could not be ut¬ 
 terly undone. For he, who before was not content to lead an 
 inacti ve, though peaceable life, in exile, would not now, if his 
 own affairs were upon any tolerable footing, sit still and see 
 the insolence of the Lacedaemonians, and the madness of the 
 thirty tyrants, without endeavouring at some remedy. Nor was 
 it at all unnatural for the multitude to dream of such relief, 
 since those thirty chiefs themselves were so solicitous to in¬ 
 quire after Alcibiades, and gave so much attention to what 
 he was doing and contriving. 
 
 At last, Critias represented to Lysander, that the Lacedae¬ 
 monians could never securely enjoy the empire of Greece till 
 the Athenian democracy was absolutely destroyed. And 
 though the Athenians seemed at present to bear an oligarchy 
 with some patience, yet Alcibiades, if he lived, would not suf 
 fer them long to submit to such a kind of government. Ly 
 sander, however, could not be prevailed upon by these argu 
 ments, until he received private orders from the magistrates 
 of Sparta,'* to get Alcibiades despatched; whether it was that 
 they dreaded his great capacity, and enterprising spirit, or 
 whether it was done in complaisance to king Agis. Lysander 
 then sent to Pharnabazus, to desire him to put this order In 
 execution; and he appointed his brother Magacus and his 
 uncle Susamithres to manage the affair. 
 
 Alcibiades at that time resided in a small village in Phry¬ 
 gia, having his mistress Timandra with him. One night he 
 dreamed that he was attired in his mistress’s habit,t and that 
 as she held him in her arms, she dressed his head and painted 
 his face like a woman’s. Others say, he dreamed that Maga¬ 
 cus cut off his head and burnt his body; and we are told that it 
 was but little before his death that he had this vision. Be that 
 as it may, those that were sent to assassinate him, not daring 
 
 * The Scytala was sent to him. 
 
 + Alcibiades had dreamed that Timandra attired him in her own habit. 
 
 Vol. t-3 Q 
 
402 
 
 ALCIBIADES. 
 
 to enter his liot.se, surrounded it, and set it on fire. As soon 
 as he perceived it, he got together large quantifies of clothes 
 and hangings, and threw them upon the fire to choke it; then 
 having wrapt his robe about his left hand, and taking his sword 
 in his right, he sallied through the fire, and got safe out be¬ 
 fore the stuff which he had thrown upon it could catch the 
 flame. At sight of him the barbarians dispersed, not one oi 
 them daring to wait for him, or to encounter him hand to hand; 
 but standing at a distance, they pierced him with their darts 
 and arrows. Thus fell Alcibiades. The barbarians retiring 
 after he was slain, Timandra wrapt the body in her own 
 robes,* and buried it as decently and honourably as her cir¬ 
 cumstances would allow. 
 
 Timandra is said to have been mother to the famous Lais, 
 commonly called the Corinthian, though Lais was brought a 
 captive from Hyccarae, a little town in Sicily. 
 
 Some writers, though they agree as to the manner of Alci- 
 biades’s death, yet they differ about the cause. They tell us, 
 that catastrophe is not to be imputed to Pharnabazus, or Ly- 
 sander, or the Lacedaemonians; but that Alcibiades having cor¬ 
 rupted a young woman of a noble family in that country, and 
 keeping her in his house, her brothers, incensed at the injury, 
 set fire in the night to the house in which he lived, and upon 
 his breaking through the flames, killed him in the manner we 
 have related, t 
 
 * She buried him in a town called Melissa; and we learn from Athenseus 
 (in Deipnosoph. J that the monument remained to his time; for he himself 
 saw it. The emperor Adrian, in memory of so great a man, caused his sta¬ 
 tue of Persian marble to be set up thereon, and ordered a bull to be sacrificed 
 to him annually. 
 
 f Ephorus the historian, as he is cited by Diodorus Siculus (lib. xiv.) gives 
 an account of his death, quite different from those recited by Plutarch. He 
 says, that Alcibiades having discovered the design of Cyrus the younger to 
 take up arms, informed Pharnabazus of it, and desired that he might carry 
 the news to the king; but Pharnabazus envying him that honour, sent a 
 confidant of his own, and took all the merit upon himself. Alcibiades, sus¬ 
 pecting the matter, went to Paphlagonia, and sought to procure from the go* 
 rernor letters of credence to the king, which Pharnabazus understanding, 
 *ured people to murder him. He was slain in the fortieth year of his age. 
 
THE LIFE 
 
 np 
 
 CA1US MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 
 
 The family of the Marcii afforded Rome many illrstrious 
 patricians. Of this house was Ancus Marcius, who was 
 grandson to Numa by his daughter; as were also Publius and 
 Quintus Marcius, who supplied Rome with plenty of the best 
 water. Censorinus, too, who was twice appointed censor by 
 the people of Rome, and who procured a law, that no man 
 should ever bear that office twice afterwards, had the same 
 pedigree. 
 
 Caius Marcius, of whom I now write, was brought up by 
 his mother, in her widowhood, and from him it appeared, 
 that the loss of a father, though attended with other disadvan¬ 
 tages, is no hindrance to a man’s improving in virtue, and at¬ 
 taining to a distinguished excellence; though bad men some¬ 
 times allege it as an excuse for their corrupt lives. On the 
 other hand, the same Marcius became witness to the truth of 
 that maxim, that if a generous and noble nature be not 
 thoroughly formed by discipline, it will shoot forth many bad 
 qualities along with the good, as the richest soil, if not culti¬ 
 vated, produces the rankest weeds. His undaunted courage 
 and firmness of mind excited him to many great actions, and 
 carried him through them with honour; but, at the same time, 
 the violence of his passions, his spirit of contention, and ex¬ 
 cessive obstinacy, rendered him untractable and disagreeable 
 in conversation; so that those very persons who saw with ad¬ 
 miration his soul unshaken with pleasures, toils, and riches, 
 and allowed him to be possessed of the virtues of temperance, 
 justice and fortitude, yet, in the councils and affairs of state, 
 could not endure his imperious temper, and that savage man¬ 
 ner, which was too haughty for a republic. Indeed there is 
 no other advantage to be had from a liberal education, equal 
 to that of polishing and softening our nature by reason and dis¬ 
 cipline; for that produces an evenness of behaviour, and ban¬ 
 ishes from our manners all extremes. There is this, however 
 
404 
 
 CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOUANUS. 
 
 to be said, that in those times military abilities we re deemec 
 by the Romans the highest excellence; insomuch that the 
 term which they use for virtue in general, was applied by them 
 to valour in particular. 
 
 Marcius, for his part, had a more than ordinary inclination 
 for war, and therefore, from a child, began to handle his wea 
 pons. As he thought that artificial arms availed but little, un 
 less those with which nature has supplied us be well improved, 
 and kept ready for use, he so prepared himself by exercise for 
 every kind of combat, that while his limbs were active and 
 nimble enough for pursuing, such was his force and weight in 
 wrestling and grappling with the enemy, that none could 
 easily get,clear of him. Those, therefore, that had any con¬ 
 test with him for the prize of courage and valour, though they 
 failed of success, flattered themselves with imputing it to his 
 invincible strength, which nothing could resist or fatigue. 
 
 He made his first campaign when he was very young, * when 
 Tarquin, who had reigned in Rome,* was driven from the 
 throne, and after many battles fought with bad success, was 
 now venturing all upon the last throw. Most of the people oi 
 Latium, and many other states of Italy, were now assisting 
 and marching towards Rome, to re-establish him, not through 
 any regard they had for Tarquin, but for fear and envy of the 
 Romans, whose growing greatness they were desirous to check. 
 A battle ensued, with various turns of fortune. Marcius-dis¬ 
 tinguished himself that day, in sight of the dictator; for, see¬ 
 ing a Roman pushed down at a small distance from him, he 
 hastened to his help and standing before him, he engaged his 
 adversary, and slew him. When the dispute was decided in 
 favour of the Romans, the general presented Marcius, among 
 the first, with an oaken crown.t This is the reward which 
 their custom assigns to a man who saves the life of a citizen; 
 either because they honoured the oak for the sake of the Ar¬ 
 cadians, whom the oracle called Jlcorn-ealers; or because an 
 oaken branch is most easy to be had, be the scene of action 
 where it will; or because they think it most suitable to take s 
 crown for him who is the means of saving a citizen, from the 
 tree which is sacred to Jupiter, the protector of cities. Be¬ 
 sides, the oak bears more and fairer fruit than any tree that 
 
 * In the first year of the seventy-first Olympiad, the two hundred and fif 
 ty-eighth of Rome, four hundred and ninety-third before the Christian era. 
 
 f The civic crown was the foundation of many privileges. He who had 
 once obtained it, had a rig'ht to wear it always. When he appeared at the 
 public spectacles, the senators rose up to do hirn honour. He was placed 
 near their bench; and his father, and grandfather by the father’s side, were 
 entitled to the same privileges. Here was encouragement to merit, which 
 cost the public nothing, and yet \* as productive of many great effects. 
 
CA1U3 MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 
 
 40c 
 
 grows wild, and is the strongest of those that are cultivated in 
 plantations. It afforded the first ages both food and drink, by 
 its acorns and honey; and supplied men with birds and other 
 creatures for dainties, as it produced the misletoe, of which 
 birdlime is made.* 
 
 Castor and Pollux are said to have appeared in that battle, 
 and, with their horses dropping sweat, to have been seen soon 
 after in the forum , announcing the victory, near the fountain, 
 where the temple now stands. Hence also it is said, that the 
 fifteenth of July,t being the day on which that victory was 
 gained, is consecrated to those sons of Jupiter. 
 
 It generally happens, that when men of small ambition are 
 very early distinguished by the voice of fame, their thirst of 
 honour is soon quenched, and their desires satiated; whereas 
 deep and solid minds are improved and brightened by marks 
 of distinction which serve as a brisk gale, to drive them for¬ 
 ward in the pursuit of glory. They do not so much think 
 that they have received a reward, as that they have given a 
 pledge, which would make them blush to fall short of the ex 
 pectations of the public; and therefore they endeavour, by 
 their actions, to exceed them. Marcius had a soul of this 
 frame. He was always endeavouring to excel himself, and 
 meditating some exploit which might set him in a new light, 
 adding achievement to achievement, and spoils to spoils; 
 therefore the latter generals under whom he served were al¬ 
 ways striving to outdo the former in the honours they paid 
 him, and in the tokens of their esteem. The Romans at that 
 time were engaged in several wars, and fought many battles, 
 and there was not one that Marcius returned from without 
 some honorary crown, some ennobling distinction. The end 
 which others proposed in their acts of valour was glory; but 
 ne pursued glory because the acquisition of it delighted his 
 mother. For when she was witness to the applauses he re¬ 
 ceived, when she saw him crowned, when she embraced him 
 with tears of joy, then it was that he reckoned himself at the 
 height of honour and felicity. Epaminondas (they tell us) 
 had the same sentiment;:, and declared it the chief happiness 
 of his life, that his father and mother lived to see the general¬ 
 ship he exerted, and the victory he won, at Leuctra. He had 
 Ihe satisfaction, indeed, to see both his parents rejoice in his 
 success, and partake of his good fortune; but only the mother 
 
 * It does not any where appear that the ancients made use of the oak ir 
 ship-building’. How much nobler an encomium might an English histonai 
 afford that tree than Plutarch has been able to give it! 
 
 ( By the gTeat disorder of the Roman calendar, the fifteenth of .July the 
 ft 'd upon the twenty-fourth of our October. 
 
40b 
 
 CAIUS MARCIUS C0RI0LANUS. 
 
 of Marcias, Volumnia, was living; and therefore holding him 
 self obliged to pay her all that duty which would have belong* 
 ed to his father, over and above what was due to herself, he 
 thought he could never sufficiently express his tenderness and 
 respect. He even married in compliance with her desire and 
 request; and after his wife had borne him children, still lived 
 in the same house with his mother. 
 
 At the time when the reputation and interest which his 
 virtue had procured him in Rome, was very great, the senate, 
 taking the part of the richer sort of citizens, were at variance 
 with the common people, who* were used Ln r their creditors 
 with intolerable cruelty. Those that had something consi¬ 
 derable, were stript of their goods, which were either detained 
 for security or sold; and those that had nothing were dragged 
 into prison, and there bound with fetters, though their bodies 
 were full of wounds, and worn out with fighting for then 
 country. The last expedition they were engaged in war 
 against the Sabines, on which occasion their rich credito/f 
 promised to treat them with more lenity; and, in pursuance 01 
 a decree of the senate, M. Valerius the consul, was guarantee 
 of that promise. But when they had cheerfully undergone 
 the fatigues of that war, and were returned victorious, and yei 
 found that the usurers made them no abatement, and that the 
 senate pretended to remember nothing of that agreement, but 
 without any sort of concern saw them dragged to prison, and 
 their goods seized upon as formerly, then they filled the city 
 with tumult and sedition. 
 
 The enemy, apprised of these intestine broils, invaded the 
 Roman territories, and laid them waste with fire and sword. 
 And when the consuls called upon such as were able to bear 
 arms to give in their names, not a man took any notice of it; 
 something was then to be done, but the magistrates differed in 
 their opinions. Some thought the poor should have a little 
 indulgence, and that the extreme rigour of the law ought to 
 be softened. Others declared absolutely against that proposal, 
 and particularly Marcius. Not that he thought the money a 
 matter of great consequence, but he considered this specimen 
 of the people’s insolence as an attempt to subvert the laws, 
 and the forerunner of farther disorders, which it became a 
 wise government timely to restrain and suppress. 
 
 The senate assembled several times within the space of a 
 few days, and debated this point; but as they came to no con¬ 
 clusion, on a sudden the commonalty rose, one and all, and 
 
 * Journo, signifies the same as a. So 1 Cor. vii. 40. <Tcxa> f 
 
 aoLy* Trvvj/ud Gm instead of I think also that I have the Spirit of Gvd, 
 
 •hould be translated, and I have the Spirit of God. 
 
CAIUS MARC 1 US CORIOLANUS. 
 
 407 
 
 encouraging each other, they lett the city, and withdrew to 
 the hill now called Sacred , near the river Anio, but without 
 committing any violence or other act of sedition. Only, as 
 they went along, they loudly complained,—“That it was now 
 a great while since the rich had driven them from their habi¬ 
 tations; that Italy would any where supply them with air and 
 water, and a place of burial; and that Rome, if they staid in it, 
 would afford them no other privilege, unless it were such to 
 bleed and die in fighting for their wealthy oppressors/’ 
 
 The senate was then alarmed, and from the oldest men of 
 their body selected the most moderate and popular to treat 
 with the people. At the head of them was Menenius Agrippa, 
 who after much entreaty addressed to them, and many argu¬ 
 ments in defence of the senate, concluded his discourse with 
 this celebrated fable:—“The members of the human body 
 once mutinied against the belly, and accused it of lying idle 
 and useless, while they were all labouring and toiling to sa¬ 
 tisfy its appetites; but the belly only laughed at their simpli¬ 
 city, who knew not that though it received all the nourish¬ 
 ment into itself, it prepared and distributed it again to all parts 
 of the body. Just so, my fellow-citizens,” said he, “ stands 
 the case between the senate and you. For their necessary 
 counsels and acts of government are productive of advantage 
 to you all, and distribute their salutary influence amongst the 
 whole people. ” 
 
 After this they were reconciled to the senate, having de¬ 
 manded and obtained the privilege of appointing five men* to 
 defend their rights on all occasions. These are called tribunes 
 of the people. The first that were elected, were Junius Bru- 
 tust and Sicinius Vellutus, the leaders of the secession. When 
 the breach was thus made up, the plebeians soon came to be 
 enrolled as soldiers, and readily obeyed the orders of the con¬ 
 suls relative to the war. As for Marcius, though he was far 
 from being pleased at the advantage which the people had 
 gained, as it was a lessening of the authority of the patricians, 
 
 * The tribunes were at first five in number; but a few years after five 
 more were added. Before the people left the Moris Sacer , they passed a 
 law, by which the persons of the tribunes were made sacred. Their sole 
 function was to interpose in all grievances offered the plebeians by their su« 
 periors. This interposing* was called intercessio , and was performed by 
 standing* up and pronouncing the single word veto , T forbid it. They had 
 their seats placed at the door of the senate, and were never admitted into it, 
 but when the consuls called them to ask their opinion upon some affair that 
 concerned the interests of the people. 
 
 f The name of this tribune was Lucius Junius, and because Lucius Junius 
 Brutus was famed for delivering his country from the tyrannic yoke of the 
 kings, he also assumed the surname of Brutus, which exposed him to a great 
 ieal of ridicule. 
 
408 
 
 CAIUS MARCIUS C0RI0LANUS. 
 
 and though he found a considerable part of the nobility of hi* 
 opinion, yet he exhorted them not to be backward wherever 
 the interest of their country was concerned, but to show 
 themselves superior to the commonalty rather in virtue than 
 in power. 
 
 Oorioli was the capital of the country of the Volscians, with 
 whom the Romans were at war; and as it was besieged by the 
 consul Cominius, the rest of the Volscians were much alarmed, 
 and assembled to succour it, intending to give the Romans 
 battle under the walls, and to attack them on both sides. But 
 after Cominius had divided his forces, and with part went to 
 meet the Volscians without, who were marching against him, 
 leaving Titus Lartius, an illustrious Roman, with the other 
 part, to carry on the siege, the inhabitants of Corioli despised 
 the body that were left, and sallied out to fight them. The 
 Romans at first were obliged to give ground, and were driven 
 to their entrenchments. But Marcius, with a small party, 
 flew to their assistance, killed the foremost of the enemy, and 
 stopping the rest in their career, with a loud voice called the 
 Romans back. .For he was (what Cato wanted a soldier to be) 
 not only dreadful for the thunder of his arm, but of voice too, 
 and had an aspect which struck his adversaries with terror and 
 dismay. Many Romans then crowding about him, and being 
 ready to second him, the e* emy retired in confusion. 4 Nor 
 was he satisfied with making them retire; he pressed hard 
 upon their rear, and pursued them quite up to the gates. 
 There he perceived that his men discontinued the pursuit, by 
 reason of the shower of arrows which fell from the walls, ana 
 that none of them had any thoughts of rushing along with the 
 fugitives into the city, which was filled with warlike people, 
 who were all under arms; nevertheless he exhorted and en¬ 
 couraged them to press forward, crying out,—“That fortune 
 had opened the gates rather to the victors than to the vanquish¬ 
 ed. 99 But as few were willing to follow him, he broke through 
 the enemy, and pushed into the town with the crowd, no one 
 at first daring to oppose him, or even to look him in the face. 
 But when he cast his eyes around, and saw so small a number 
 within the walls, whose service he could make use of in that 
 dangerous enterprise, and that friends and foes were mixed 
 together, he summoned all his force, and performed the most 
 incredible exploits, whether you consider his heroic strength, 
 his amazing agility, or his bold and daring spirit; for he over 
 powered all that were in his way, forcing some to seek refuge 
 in the farthest corners of the town, and others to give out and 
 throw down their arms; which afforded Lartius an opportunity 
 to bring in the rest of the Romans unmolested. 
 
 The city thus taken, most of the soldiers fell to plundering 
 
CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 
 
 409 
 
 which Marcius highly resented, crying out,—“That it was a 
 shame for them to run about after plunder, or, under pretence 
 of collecting the spoils, to get out of the way of danger* while 
 the consul, and the Romans under his command, were, per¬ 
 haps, engaged with the enemy.” As there were not many 
 that listened to what he said, he put himself at the head of 
 such as offered to follow him, and took the route which he 
 knew would lead him to the consul’s army; sometimes press¬ 
 ing his small party to hasten their marcn, and conjuring them 
 not to suffer their ardour to cool: and sometimes begging of 
 the gods that the battle might not be over before he arrived, but 
 that he might have his share in the glorious toils and dangers 
 of his countrymen. 
 
 It was customary with the Romans of that age, when they 
 were drawn up in order of battle, and ready to take up their 
 shields, and gird their garments about them, to make a nuncu¬ 
 pative will, naming each his heir, in the presence of three or 
 four witnesses. While the soldiers were thus employed, and 
 the enemy in sight, Marcius came up. Some were startled at 
 his first appearance, covered as he was with blood and sweat. 
 But when he ran. cheerfully up to the consul, took him by the 
 hand, and told him that Corioli was taken, the consul clasped 
 him to his heart; and those who heard the news of that success, 
 and those who did but guess at it, were greatly animated, and 
 with shouts demanded to be led on to the combat. Marcius 
 inquired of Cominius in what manner the enemy’s army was 
 drawn up, and where their best troops were posted. Being 
 answered, that the Antiates, who were placed in the centre, 
 were supposed to be the bravest and most warlike:—“I beg 
 it of you, then,” said Marcius, “ as a favour, that you will 
 place me directly opposite to them.” And the consul, admir 
 mg his spirit, readily granted his request. 
 
 When the battle was begun w?th the throwing of spears,* 
 Marcius advanced before the rest, and charged the centre of 
 the Volscians with so much fury that it was soon broken. 
 Nevertheless, the wings attempted to surround him; and the 
 consul, alarmed for him, sent to his assistance a select band 
 which he had near his own person. A sharp conflict then en¬ 
 sued about Marcius, and a great carnage was quickly made; 
 hut the Romans pressed the enemy with so much vigour, that 
 they put them to flight. And when they were going upon the 
 pursuit, they begged of Marcius, now almost weighed down 
 with wounds and fatigue, to retire to the camp. But he an¬ 
 swered:—“That it was not for conquerors to be tired;” and 
 so joined them in prosecuting the victory. The whole army 
 
 * -He <T nuctv iufictx Ui fc^ATU'V. 
 
 3 H 36* 
 
 Voi.. x. 
 
410 
 
 CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 
 
 of the Volseians was defeated, great numbers killed, and mam 
 made prisoners. 
 
 Next day, Marcius waiting upon the consul, and the army 
 being assembled, Cominius mounted the rostrum; and having 
 in the first place, returned due thanks to the gods for si^h ex¬ 
 traordinary success, addressed himself to Marcius. He uegan 
 with a detail of his gallant actions, of which he had himself 
 been partly an eye-witness, and which had partly been related 
 to him by Lartius. Then out of the great quantity of treasure, 
 the many horses and prisoners they had taken, he ordered him 
 to take a tenth, before any distribution was made to the rest, 
 besides making him a present of a fine horse with noble trap¬ 
 pings, as a reward for his valour. 
 
 the army received this speech with great applause; and 
 Marcius, stepping forward, said,—“ That he accepted of the 
 horse, and was happy in the consul’s approbation; but as for 
 the rest, he considered it rather as a pecuniary reward than as 
 a mark of honour, and therefore desired to be excused, being 
 satisfied with his single share of the booty. One favour only 
 in particular,” continued he, “ I desire and beg I may be in¬ 
 dulged in. I have a friend among the Volseians, bound with 
 me in the sacred rites of hospitality,* and a man of virtue and 
 honour. He is now among the prisoners, and from easy and 
 opulent circumstances, reduced to servitude. Of the many 
 misfortunes under which he labours, I should be glad to res¬ 
 cue him from one, which is that of being sold as a slave.” 
 
 These words of Marcius were followed with still louder ac¬ 
 clamations; his conquering the temptations of money being 
 more admired than the valour he haa exerted in battle. For 
 even those who before regarded his superior honours with 
 envy and jealousy, now thought him worthy of great things, 
 because he had greatly declined them, and were more struck 
 with that virtue which led him to despise such extraordinary 
 advantages, than with the merit which claimed them. Indeed, 
 the right use of riches is more commendable than that of 
 arms; and not to desire them at all, more glorious than to use 
 them well. 
 
 When the acclamations were over, and the multitude silent 
 again, Cominius subjoined,—“You can not, indeed, my fel¬ 
 low-soldiers, force these gifts of yours upon a person so firmly 
 resolved to refuse them; let us then give him wdiat is not in 
 
 * With th: former translator, we have rendered it thus, instead of Host, 
 which is indeed the literal sense, but sounds uncouthly in English, as it con¬ 
 veys to the unlearned reader the idea of an innkeeper. Among 1 the ancients, 
 one friend called another of a dLFerent nation my stranger , or hospes 
 
 mens, my host , because, on their travels, or other occasions, they entertain 
 ed each other at their houses. 
 
CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 
 
 411 
 
 ms power to decline, let us pass a vote that he be called Co- 
 riolanus, if his gallant behaviour at Corioli has not already 
 bestowed that name upon him.” Hence came his third name 
 of Coriolanus. By which it appears, that Caius was the pro¬ 
 per name; that the second name Marcius, was that of the 
 family; and that the third Roman appellative was a peculiar 
 note of distinction, given afterwards on account of some par¬ 
 ticular act of fortune, or signature, or virtue of him that bore 
 it. Thus, among the Greeks, additional names were given to 
 some on account of their achievements, as Soter, the preserver, and 
 Callinicus, the victorious; to others, for something remarkable 
 in their persons, as Physcon, the gore-bellied , and Grupus, the 
 eagle-nosed; or, for their good qualities, as Euergetes, the bene¬ 
 factor , and Philadelphus, the kind brother; or their good fortune, 
 as Eudxmon, the prosperous, a name given to the second prince 
 of the family of the Batti. Several princes also have had sa¬ 
 tirical names bestowed upon them; Antigonus (for instance) 
 was called Boson, the man that will give to-morrow; and Ptolemy 
 was styled Lamyras, the buffoon . But appellations of this last 
 sort were used with greater latitude among the Romans. One 
 of the Mete Hi was distinguished by the name of Biadematus, 
 because he went a long time with a bandage, which covered 
 an ulcer he had in hds forehead; and another they called Celer , 
 because with surprising celerity he entertained them with a 
 funeral show of gladiators, a few days after his father’s death. 
 Jn our times, too, some of the Romans receive their names 
 from the circumstances of their birth; as that of Proculus, if 
 born when their fathers are in a distant country, and that ot 
 Posthumus, if born after their father’s death; and when twdns 
 come into the world, and one of them dies at the birth, the sur¬ 
 vivor is called Vbpiscus. Names are also appropriated on ac¬ 
 count of bodily imperfections; for amongst them we find not 
 only Sylla, the red , and Niger, the black , but even Cacus, the blind, 
 and Claudius, the lame; such persons, by this custom, being 
 wisely taught, not to consider blindness, or any other bodily 
 misfortune, as a reproach or disgrace, but to answer to appel¬ 
 lations of that kind as their proper names. But this point 
 might have been insisted upon with greater propriety in ano¬ 
 ther place. 
 
 When the w r ar was over, the demagogues stirred up another 
 sedition. And as there v/as no new cause of disquiet or in¬ 
 jury done the people, they made use of thq mischiefs which 
 were the necessary consequence of the former troubles and 
 dissensions, as a handle against the patricians . For the great¬ 
 est part of the ground being left uncultivated and unsown, and 
 Viie war not permitting them to bring in bread-corn from other 
 
412 
 
 CAIUS MARC1US CORIOLANUS. 
 
 countries, there was an extreme scarcity in Rome. * The 
 factious orators then seeing that corn was not brought to mar¬ 
 ket, and that if the market could be supplied, the commonalty 
 had but little money to buy with, slanderously asserted that 
 the rich had caused the famine out of a spirit of revenge. 
 
 At this junction there arrived ambassadors from the people 
 of Velitrae, who offered to surrender their city to the Romans, 
 and desired to have a number of new inhabitants to replenish 
 it; a pestilential distemper having committed such ravages 
 there, that scarce the tenth part of the inhabitants remained. 
 The sensible part of the Romans thought this pressing neces¬ 
 sity of Velitrae a seasonable and advantageous thing for Rome, 
 as it would lessen the scarcity of provisions. They hoped, 
 moreover, that the sedition would subside if the city were 
 purged of the troublesome part of the people, who most readily 
 took fire at the harangues of their orators, and who were as 
 dangerous to the state as so many superfluous and morbid hu¬ 
 mours are to the body. Such as these, therefore, the consuls 
 singled out for the colony, and pitched upon others to serve 
 in the war against the Volscians, contriving it so that employ¬ 
 ment abroad might still the intestine tumults, and believing, 
 that when rich and poor, plebeians and patricians, came to 
 bear arms together again, to be in the same camp, and to meet 
 the same dangers, they would be disposed to treat each other 
 with more gentleness and candour. 
 
 But the restless tribunes, Sicinms and Brutus, opposed both 
 these designs, crying out, That the consuls disguised a most 
 inhuman act under the plausible term of a colony; for inhu¬ 
 man it certainly was, to throw the poor citizens into a devour¬ 
 ing gulf, by sending them to a place where the air was infect¬ 
 ed, and where noisome carcasses lay above ground, where 
 also they would be at the disposal of a strange and cruel deity. 
 And as if it were not sufficient to destroy some by famine, 
 and to expose others to the plague, they involved them also 
 into a needless war, that no kind of calamity might be want¬ 
 ing to complete the ruin of the city, because it refused to con¬ 
 tinue in slavery to the rich. 
 
 The people, irritated by these speeches, neither obeyed the 
 summons to be enlisted for tha war, nor could be brought to 
 approve the order to go and people Velitrae. While the sen¬ 
 ate were in doubt what step they should take, Marcius, now 
 not a little elated by the honours he had received, by the sense 
 
 * The people withdrew to the sacred mount soon after the autumnal 
 equinox, and tlie reconciliation with the patricians did not tahe place until 
 the winter solstice, so that the seed-time was lost; and the Roman factors, 
 who were sent to bu} corn in other countries, were very unsuccessful. 
 
CA1US MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 
 
 413 
 
 of his own great abilities, and by the deference that was paid 
 him by the principal persons in the state, stood foremost in 
 opposition to the tribunes. The colony, therefore, was sent 
 out, heavy fines being set upon such as refused to go. But as 
 they declared absolutely against serving in the war, Marcius 
 mustered up his own clients, and as many volunteers as he 
 could procure, and with these made an inroad into the terri¬ 
 tories of the Antiates. There he found plenty of corn, and a 
 great number of cattle and slaves, no part of which he reserv¬ 
 ed to himself, but led his troops back to Rome, loaded with 
 the rich booty. The rest of the citizens then repenting of 
 their obstinacy, and envying those who had got such a quan¬ 
 tity of provisions, looked upon Marcius with an evil eye, not 
 being able to endure the increase of his power and honour, 
 which they considered as rising on the ruins of the people. 
 
 Soon after,* Marcius stood for the consulship; on which 
 occasion the commonalty began to relent, being sensible what 
 a shame it would be to reject and affront a man of his family 
 and virtue, and that too after he had done so many signal ser¬ 
 vices to the public. It was the custom for those who were 
 candidates for such a high office to solicit and caress the peo¬ 
 ple in the forum , and, at those times, to be clad in a loose gown 
 without the tunic; whether that humble dress was thought 
 more suitable for suppliants, or whether it was for the conve¬ 
 nience of showing their wounds, as so many tokens of valour; 
 for it was not from any suspicion the citizens then had of bribe¬ 
 ry, that they required the candidates to appear before them 
 ungirt, and without any close garment, when they came to beg 
 their votes; since it was much later than this, and indeed many 
 ages after, that buying and selling stole in, and money came 
 to be a means of gaining an election. Then, corruption reach 
 ing also the tribunals and the camps, arms were subdued by 
 money, and the commonwealth was changed into a monarchy. 
 It was a shrewd saying, whoever said it, “That the man who 
 first ruined the Roman people, was he who first gave them 
 treats and gratuities.” But this mischief crept secretly and 
 gradually in, and did not show its face in Rome for a consid¬ 
 erable time. For we know not who it was that first bribed 
 its citizens or its judges; but it is said, that in Athens, the first 
 man who corrupted a tribunal, was Anytas the son of Anthy- 
 mion, when he was tried for treason in delivering up the fort 
 of Pylos,t at the latter end of the Peloponnesian war; a time 
 
 * It was tVe next year, being the third of the seventy-second Olympiad 
 aur hundred and eighty-eight years before the Christian era. 
 
 j- The translation of 1 ?58, has the name of the fort with a French termi 
 Motion, Pt/lc , which is a clear proof that the Greek was not consulted 
 
414 
 
 OAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 
 
 when the golden age reigned in the Roman courts in all its 
 simplicity. 
 
 When, therefore, Marcius showed the wounds and scars he 
 had received in the many glorious battles he had fought, for 
 seventeen years successively, the people were struck witli 
 reverence for his virtue, and agreed to choose him consul. 
 But when the day of election came, and he was conducted with 
 great pomp into the Campus Martins by the senate in a body, 
 all the patricians acting with more zeal and vigour than ever 
 had been known on the like occasion, the commons then alter- 
 ed their minds, and their kindness was turned into envy and 
 indignation. The malignity of these passions was farther as¬ 
 sisted by the fear they entertained, that if a man, so strongly 
 attached to the interests of the senate, and so much respected 
 by the nobility, should attain the consulship, he might utterly 
 deprive the people of their liberty. Influenced by these con¬ 
 siderations, they rejected Marcius, and appointed others to 
 that office. The senate took this extremely ill, considering it 
 as an affront rather intended against them than against Mar¬ 
 cius. As for Marcius, he resented that treatment highly, in¬ 
 dulging his irascible passions, upon a supposition that they 
 have someting great and exalted in them; and wanting a due 
 mixture of gravity and mildness, which are the chief political 
 virtues, and the fruits of reason and education. He did not 
 consider, that the man who applies himself to public business, 
 and undertakes to converse with men, should above all things, 
 avoid that overbearing austerity, which (as Plato says) is always 
 the companion of solitude , and cultivate in his heart the patience 
 which some people so much deride. Marcius, then, being 
 plain and artless, but rigid and inflexible withal, was persuaded, 
 that to vanquish opposition was the highest attainment of a 
 gallant spirit. He never dreamed that such obstinacy is ra¬ 
 ther the effect of the weakness and effeminacy of a distemper¬ 
 ed mind, which breaks out in violent passions, like so many 
 tumours; and therefore he went away in great disorder and full 
 of rancour against the people. Such of the young nobility as 
 were most distinguished by the pride of birth and greatness of 
 spirit, who had always been wonderfully taken with Marcius, 
 and then unluckily happened to attend him, inflamed his re¬ 
 sentment by expressing their own grief and indignation. For 
 he was their leader in every expedition, and their instructor 
 in the art of war; he it was who inspired them with a truly 
 virtuous emulation, and taught them to rejoice in their own 
 success, without envying the exploits of others. 
 
 In the mean time, a great quantity of bread-corn was 
 brought to Rome, being partly bought up in Italy, and partly 
 
 present from Gelon king of Syracuse The aspect of affair 
 
CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 
 
 4Ii 
 
 appear ed now to be encouraging, and it was hoped that the 
 intestine broils would cease with the scarcity. The senate, 
 therefore, being immediately assembled, the people stood in 
 crowds without, waiting for the issue of their deliberations. 
 They expected that the market rates for the corn that was 
 bought would be moderate, and that a distribution of that 
 which was a gift would be made gratis; for there were some 
 who proposed that the senate should dispose of it in that man¬ 
 ner. ButMarcius stood up, and severely censured those that 
 spoke in favour of the commonalty, calling them demagogues, 
 and traitors to the nobility. He said;— 66 They nourished, to 
 their own great prejudice, the pernicious seeds of boldness 
 and petulance, which had been sown among the populace, 
 when they should rather have nipped them in the bud, and not 
 have suffered the plebeians to strengthen themselves with the 
 tribunitial power. That the people were now become formida¬ 
 ble, gaining whatever point they pleased, and not doing any 
 one thing against their inclination; so that living in a sort of 
 anarchy, they would no longer obey the consuls, nor acknow¬ 
 ledge any superiors but those whom they called their own 
 magistrates. That the senators who advised that distribution 
 should be made in the manner of the Greeks, whose govern¬ 
 ment was entirely democratical, were effecting the ruin of the 
 constitution, by encouraging the insolence of the rabble. For 
 that they would not suppose they received such favours for the 
 campaign which they had refused to make, or for the secessions 
 by which they had deserted their country, or for the calum¬ 
 nies which they had countenanced against the senate. But,” 
 continued he, “they will think that we yield to them through 
 fear, and grant them such indulgences by way of flattery; and 
 as they will expect to find us always so complaisant, there will 
 be no end to their disobedience, no period to their turbulent 
 and seditious practices. It would, therefore, be perfect mad¬ 
 ness to take such a step. Nay, if we are wise, we shall en¬ 
 tirely abolish the tribunes’ office,* which has made ciphers of 
 the consuls, and divided the city in such a manner, that it is 
 no longer one as formerly, but broken into two parts, which 
 will never knit again, or cease to vex and harass each other 
 with all the evils of discord.”t 
 Marcius, haranguing to this purpose, inspired the young 
 senators and almost all the men of fortune with his own cn- 
 
 * The tribunes had lately procured a law, which made it penal to inter 
 nipt them when they were speaking* to the people. 
 
 f Plutarch has omitted the most aggravating passage in Coriolanus’s speech 
 wherein he proposed the holding up the price of bread-corn as high as eveiv 
 to keep the people in dependence and subjection. 
 
416 
 
 CAIUS MARC1US CORIOLANUS. 
 
 thusiasm; and they cried out that he was the only man in 
 Rome who had a spirit above the meanness of flattery and sub 
 mission; yet some of the aged senators foresaw the conse¬ 
 quence, and opposed his measures. In fact, the issue was un¬ 
 fortunate; for the tribunes, who were present, when they saw 
 that Marcius would have a majority of voices, ran out to the 
 people, loudly calling upon them to stand by their own magis¬ 
 trates, and give their best assistance. An assembly then was 
 held in a tumultuary manner, in which the speeches of Mar 
 cius were recited, and the plebeians in their fury had thoughts 
 of breaking in upon the senate. The tribunes pointed then, 
 rage against Marcius in particular, by impeaching him in form, 
 and sent for him to make his defence; but as he spurned the 
 messengers, they went themselves, attended by the aediles, to 
 bring him by force, and began to lay hands on him. Upon 
 this the patricians stood up for him, drove off the tribunes, 
 and beat the aediles; till night coming on broke off the quarrel. 
 Early next morning, the consuls observing that the people, 
 now extremely incensed, flocked from all quarters into the 
 forum; and dreading what might be the consequence to the 
 city, hastily convened the senate, and moved,—“That they 
 should consider how with kind words and favourable resolu¬ 
 tions they might bring the commons to temper; for that this 
 was not a time to display their ambition, nor would it be pru¬ 
 dent to pursue disputes about the point of honour at a critical 
 and dangerous juncture, which required the greatest modera¬ 
 tion and delicacy of conduct.” As the majority agreed to the 
 motion, they went out to confer with the people, and used 
 their best endeavours to pacify them, coolly refuting calumnies, 
 and modestly, though not without some degree of sharpness, 
 complaining of their behaviour. As to the price of bread-corn, 
 and other provisions, they declared there should be no differ¬ 
 ence between them. 
 
 Great part of the people were moved with this application, 
 and it clearly appeared, by their candid attention, that they 
 were ready to close with it. Then the tribunes stood up and 
 said,—“That since the senate acted with moderation, the 
 
 I ieople were not unwilling to make concessions in their turn 
 >ut they insisted that Marcius should come and answer to 
 these articles: Whether he had not stirred up the senate to the 
 confounding of all government, and to the destroying of the 
 people’s privileges? Whether he had not refused to obey their 
 summons? Whether he had not beaten and otherwise maltreat¬ 
 ed the aediles in the forum; and by these means (so far as in 
 him lay) levied war, and brought the citizens to sheath theii 
 swords in each other’s bosoms?” These things they said with 
 a design, either to humble Marcius, by making him submit tc 
 
CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 
 
 417 
 
 entreat the people’s clemency, which was much against his 
 naughty temper; or, if he followed his native bent, to draw 
 him to make the breach incurable. The latter they were in 
 hopes of, and the rather because they knew the man well. 
 He stood as if he would have made his defence, and the peo¬ 
 ple waited in silence for what he had to say. But when, in¬ 
 stead of the submissive language that was expected, he began 
 with an aggravating boldness, and rather accused the com 
 mons than defended himself; when with the tone of his voice 
 and the fierceness of his looks he expressed an intrepidity bor¬ 
 dering upon insolence and contempt, they lost all patience: 
 and Sicinius, the boldest of the tribunes, after a short consul¬ 
 tation with his colleagues, pronounced openly, that the tri¬ 
 bunes condemned Marcius to die. He then ordered the 
 aediles to take him immediately up to the top of the Tarpeian 
 rock, and throw him down the precipice. However, when 
 they came to lay hands on him, the action appeared horrible 
 even to many of the plebeians. The patricians, shocked and 
 astonished, ran with great outcries to his assistance, and got 
 Marcius in the midst of them, some interposing to keep off 
 the arrest, and others stretching out their hands in supplica¬ 
 tion to the multitude; but no regard was paid to words and en 
 treaties amidst such disorder and confusion, until the friends 
 and relations of the tribunes, perceiving it would be impossi¬ 
 ble to carry off Marcius and punish him capitally, without 
 first spilling much patrician blood, persuaded them to alter 
 the cruel and unprecedented part of the sentence; not to use 
 violence in the affair, or put him to death without form or 
 trial, but to refer all to the people’s determination in full 
 assembly. 
 
 Sicinius, then a little mollified, asked the patriciars, What 
 they meant by taking Marcius out of the hands of the people, 
 who were resolved to punish him?” To which they replied 
 by another question, “ What do you mean by thus dragging 
 one of the worthiest men in Rome, without trial, to a barbar¬ 
 ous and illegal execution?” “If that be all,” said Sicinius, 
 “you shall no longer have a pretence for your quarrels and 
 factious behaviour to the people; for they grant you what 3^011 
 desire; the man shall have his trial. And as for you, Marcius 
 we cite you to appear the third market-day, and satisfy the 
 citizens of your innocence, if you can; for then by their suf¬ 
 frages your affair will be decided.” The patricians were con¬ 
 tent with this compromise; and thinking themselves happy in 
 carrying Marcius off, they retired 
 
 Meanwhile, before the third market-day, which was a con 
 siderable space, for the Romans hold their markets every ninth 
 day, and thence call them Nundinz , war broke out with the 
 
 Vol. I.-3 I 37 
 
418 
 
 CAIU9 MARCIUS CORIOLANUS 
 
 4ntiates,* which, because it was like to be of some continu¬ 
 ance, gave them hopes of evading the judgment, since there 
 would be time for the people to become more tractable, to 
 moderate their anger, or perhaps let it entirely evaporate in 
 the business of that expedition. But they soon made peace 
 with the Antiates, and returned: whereupon, the fears of the 
 senate were renewed, and they often met tc consider how 
 things might be so managed, that they should neither give u y 
 Mareius, nor leave room for the tribunes to throw the people 
 into new disorders. On this occasion, Appius Claudius, whr 
 was the most violent adversary the commons had, declared,— 
 “That the senate would betray and ruin themselves, and ab¬ 
 solutely destroy the constitution, if they should once suffer 
 the plebeians to assume a power of suffrage against the patri¬ 
 cians.” But the oldest and most popular of the senatorst were 
 of opinion,—“ That the people instead of behaving with more 
 harshness and severity would become mild and gentle, if that 
 power were indulged them; since they did not despise the se¬ 
 nate, but rather thought themselves despised by it; and the 
 prerogative of judging would be such an honour to them, that 
 they would be perfectly satisfied, and immediately lay aside 
 all resentment. 
 
 Mareius then seein-g the senate perplexed between their re 
 gard for him and fear of the people, asked the tribunes,— 
 “ What they accused him of, and upon what charge he was to 
 be tried before the people?” Being told,—“That he would 
 be tried for treason against the commonwealth, in designing 
 to set himself up as a tyrant;”^ “ Let me go, then,” said he, 
 “to the people, and make my defence; I refuse no form of 
 tr at, noi any kind of punishment if I be found guilty. Only 
 al t.^e i . > other crime against me, and do not impose upon the 
 senate. ” The tribunes agreed to these conditions, and pro 
 misec that the cause should turn upon this one point. 
 
 Bui the hist thing they did after the people were assembled, 
 
 * Adv’cc was suddenly brought to Rome, that the people of Antium had 
 seized stvi confiscated the ships belonging to Gelon’s ambassadors in their 
 return to Sicily, and had even imprisoned the ambassadors. Hereupon they 
 took up arms to chastise the Antiates, but they submitted and made satis¬ 
 faction. 
 
 f Valerius was at the head of these. He insisted also at large on the 
 horrible consequences of a civil war. 
 
 t It was never known that any person, who affected to set himself up ty¬ 
 rant, joined vvitli the nobility against the people, but on the contrary, con¬ 
 spired with the people against the nobility. “Besides,” said lie, in his de 
 fence, “it was to save these citizens, that I have received the wounds you 
 see; let the tribunes show, if they can, how such actions are consistent with 
 the treacnerous designs they lay to my charge/’ 
 
CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 
 
 4L9 
 
 was to compel them to give their voices by tribes,* and not by 
 centuries; thus contriving that the meanest and most seditious 
 part of the populace, and those who had no regard to justice 
 or honour, might outvote such as had borne arms, or were of 
 some fortune and character. In the next place, they passed 
 by the charge of his affecting the sovereignty, because they 
 could not prove it, and, instead of it repeated what Marcius 
 some time before had said in the senate, against lowering the 
 price of corn, and for abolishing the tribunitial power. And 
 they added to the impeachment a new article, namely, his 
 not bringing into the public treasury the spoils he had taken 
 in the country of the Antiates, but dividing them among the 
 soldiers.t This last accusation is said to have discomposed 
 Marcius more than all the rest; for it was what he did not ex¬ 
 pect, and he could not immediately think of an answer that 
 would satisfy the commonalty; the praises he bestowed upon 
 those who made that campaign with him, serving only to raise 
 an outcry against him from the majority, who were not con¬ 
 cerned in it. At last, when they came to vote, he was con¬ 
 demned by a majority of three tribes, and the penalty to be 
 inflicted upon him was perpetual banishment. 
 
 After the sentence was pronounced, the people were more 
 elated, and went off in greater transports than they ever did, 
 on account of a victory in the field; the senate, on the other 
 hand, were in the greatest distress, and repented that they had 
 not run the last risk, rather than suffer the people to possess 
 themselves of so much power, and use it in so insolent a man¬ 
 ner. There was no need then to look upon their dress, or 
 any other mark of distinction, to know which was a plebeian, 
 and which a patrician; the man that exulted was a plebeian, 
 and the man that was dejected, a patrician. 
 
 Marcius alone was .inmoved and unhumbled. Still lofty in 
 his port, and firm in his countenance, he appeared not to be 
 
 * From the reign of Servius Tullius the voices had been always gathered 
 by centuries. The consuls were for keeping up the ancient custom, being 
 well apprised, that they could save Coriolanus if the voices were reckoned 
 by centuries, of which the knights and the wealthiest of the citizens made 
 the majority, being pretty sure of ninety-eight out of a hundred and seventy- 
 three. But the artful tribunes, alleging that, in an affair relating to the 
 rights of the people, every citizen’s vote ought to have its due weight, 
 would not by any means consent to let the voices be collected otherwise 
 than by tribes. 
 
 f “ This,” said the tribune Decius, “ is a plain proof of his evil designs, 
 with the public money he secured to himself creatures and guards, and sup 
 porters of his intended usurpation. Let him make it appear that he had 
 power to dispose of this booty without violating the laws. Let him answer 
 directly to this one article, without dazzling us with the splendid show of 
 his crown and scars, or using any other arts to blind the assembly.” 
 
420 
 
 CAJUS MARCIUS CORXOLANUS. 
 
 sorry for himself, and to be the only one of the nobility that 
 was not. This air of fortitude was not, however, the effect 
 of reason or moderation, but the man was buoyed up by an¬ 
 ger and indignation. And this, though the vulgar know it 
 not, has its rise from grief, which, when it catches flame, is 
 turned to anger, and then bids adieu to al feebleness and de¬ 
 jection. Hence, the angry man is courageous, just as he who 
 has a fever is hot, the mind being upon the stretch and in a 
 violent agitation. His subsequent behaviour soon showed that 
 he was thus affected. For having returned to his own house, 
 and embraced his mother and his wife, who lamented their fate 
 with the weakness of women, he exhorted them to bear it with 
 patience, and then hastened to one of the city gates, being 
 conducted by the patricians in a body. Thus he quitted Rome, 
 without asking or receiving aught at any man’s hands; and 
 took with him only three or four clients. He spent a few 
 days in a solitary manner at some of his farms near the city, 
 agitated with a thousand different thoughts, such as his anger 
 suggested; in which he did not propose any advantage to him¬ 
 self, but considered oi ly how he might satisfy his revenge 
 against the Romans. At last he determined to spirit up a 
 cruel war against them from some neighbouring nation; and 
 for this purpose to apply first to the Volscians, whom he knew 
 to be yet strong both in men and money, and whom he sup¬ 
 posed to be rather exasperated and provoked to farther con¬ 
 flicts, than absolutely subdued. 
 
 There was then a person at Antium, Tullus Aufidius by 
 name,* highly distinguished among the Volscians, by his 
 wealth, his valour, and noble birth. Marcius was very sensi¬ 
 ble, that of all the Romans, himself was the man whom Tullus 
 most hated. For, excited by ambition and emulation, as 
 young warriors usually are, they had in several engagements 
 encountered each other with menaces and bold defiances, and 
 thus had added personal enmity to the hatred which reigned 
 between the two nations. But notwithstanding all this, con¬ 
 sidering the great generosity of Tullus, and knowing that he 
 was more desirous than any of the Volscians of an opportunity 
 to return upon the Romans part of the evils his country had 
 suffered, he took a method which strongly confirms that s£y 
 ing of :he poet;— 
 
 Stern wrath, how strong* thy sway! though life’s the forfeit. 
 
 Thy purpose must be gain’d. 
 
 * In Bryan’s text, it is A /uapifw. The Bodleian has it without the /u, A 
 But Livy and Dionysius of Halicarnassus call him Tullus Attius; and with 
 them an anonymous MS. agrees. AJidiur,, however, which is very near the 
 Bodleian reading, has a Latin sound, and probably was what Plutarch meant 
 to write 
 
CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 421 
 
 For, putting himself in such clothes and habiliments as were 
 most likely to prevent his being known, like Ulysses, 
 
 lie stole into the hostile town. 
 
 It was evening when he entered, and though many people 
 met him in the streets, not one of them knew him. He passed 
 therefore on to the house of Tullus, where he got in undis¬ 
 covered, and having directly made up to the fire-place,* he 
 seated himself without saying a word, covering his face, and 
 remaining in a composed posture. The people of the house 
 were very much surprised, yet they did not venture to disturb 
 him, for there was something of dignity both in his person and 
 in his silence; but they went and related the strange adven¬ 
 ture to Tullus, who was then at supper. Tullus, upon this ; 
 rose from table, and coming to Coriolanus, asked him, “ Who 
 he was and upon what business he was come?” Coriolanus, 
 uncovering his face, paused awhile, and then thus addressed 
 him:—“ If thou dost not yet know me, Tullus, but distrustest 
 thy own eyes, I must of necessity be my own accuser. I am 
 Caius Marcius, who have brought so many calamities upon the 
 Volscians, and bear the additional name of Coriolanus, which 
 will not suffer me to deny that imputation, were I disposed to 
 it. For all the labours and dangers I have undergone, I have 
 no other reward left, but that appellation which distinguishes 
 my enmity to your nation, and which can not indeed be taken 
 from me. Of every thing else I am deprived by the envy and 
 outrage of the people, on the one hand, and the cowardice and 
 treachery of the magistrates, and those of my own order, on 
 the other. Thus driven out an exile, I am come a suppliant 
 to thy household gods; not for shelter and protection; for 
 why should I come hither, if I were afraid of death? but for 
 vengeance against those who have expelled me, which, me 
 thinks, I begin to take by putting myself into thy hands. If, 
 therefore, thou art disposed to attack the enemy, come on, 
 brave Tullus, avail thyself of my misfortunes; let my personal 
 distress be the common happiness of the Volscians. You may 
 be assured, I shall fight much better for you, than I have 
 fought against you, because they who know perfectly the 
 state of the enemy’s affairs, are much more capable of annoy¬ 
 ing them than such as do not know them. But if thou hast 
 given up all thoughts of war, I neither desire to live, nor is it 
 fit for thee to preserve a person who of old has been.thine 
 enemy, and now is not able to do thee any sort of service.” 
 
 *The fire-place, having* the domestic g*ods in it, was esteemed sacred; 
 smd therefore all suppliants resorted to it, as to an asylum. 
 
 3 "* 
 
422 
 
 CAIUS MARCIUS COUIOLANUS. 
 
 Tullus, delighted with this address, gave him his hand, and, 
 
 (i Rise,” said he, “ Marcius, and take courage. The present 
 you thus make of yourself is inestimable; and you may assure 
 yourself, that the Volscians will not be ungrateful.” Then 
 he entertained him at his table with great kindness, and the 
 next and the following days they consulted together about the 
 war. 
 
 Rome was then in great confusion, by reason of the animo¬ 
 sity of the nobility against the commons, w T hich was considera¬ 
 bly heightened by the late condemnation of Marcius. Many 
 prodigies were also announced by private persons, as well a 
 by the priests and diviners; one of which was as follows:— 
 Titus Latinus,* a man of no high rank, but of great modesty 
 and candour, not addicted to superstition, much less to vain 
 pretences to what is extraordinary, had this dream;—Jupiter, 
 he thought, appeared to him, and ordered him to tell the senate, 
 “ That they had provided him a very bad and ill-favoured 
 leader of the dance, in the sacred procession.” * When he had 
 seen this vision, he said, he paid but little regard to it at first. 
 It was presented a second and a third time, and he neglected 
 it; whereupon he had the unhappiness to see his son sicken 
 and die, and he himself was suddenly struck in such a man¬ 
 ner as to lose the use of his limbs. These particulars he rela¬ 
 ted in the senate-house, being carried on his couch lor that 
 purpose. And he had no sooner made an end, than he perceiv¬ 
 ed, as they teil us, his strength return, and rose up, and walk¬ 
 ed home without help. 
 
 The senate were much surprised, and made a strict inquiry^ 
 into the affair, the result of which was, that a certain house¬ 
 holder had delivered up one of his slaves, who had been guilty 
 of some offence, to his other servants, with an order to whip 
 him through the market-place, and then put him to death. 
 While they were executing this order, and scourging the 
 wretch, who writhed himself, through the violence of pain, in¬ 
 to various postures,t the procession happened to come up. 
 Many of the people that composed it were fired with indigna¬ 
 tion, for the sight was excessively disagreeable, and shocking 
 to humanity; yet nobody gave him the least assistance; only 
 curses and execrations were vented against the man who pun¬ 
 ished with so much cruelty. For in those times they treated 
 their slaves with great moderation, and this was natural, be¬ 
 cause they worked and even eat with them. It was deemed 
 
 * Livy calls him Titus Atinius. 
 
 ■j* Accoiding to Dionysius of Halicarnassus, the master had given orders 
 that the slave should be punished at the head of the procession, to make the 
 ignominy the more notorious; which was a still greater affront to the deitv 
 In whose honour the procession was led up. 
 
CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 
 
 423 
 
 a great punishment for a slave who had committed a fault to 
 take up that piece of wood with which they supported the 
 thill of a wagon, and carry it round the neighbourhood. For 
 lie that was thus exposed to the derision of the family, and 
 other inhabitants of the place, entirely lost his credit, and was 
 styled furcifer; the Romans calling that piece of timber furca , 
 which the Greeks call hypostates , that is, a supporter . 
 
 When Latinus had given the senate an account of his dream, 
 and they doubted who this ill-favoured and bad leader of the dance 
 might be, the excessive severity of the punishment put some 
 of them in mind of the slave who was whipped through the 
 market-place, and afterwards put to death. All the priests 
 agreeing that he must be the person meant, his master had a 
 heavy fine laid upon him, and the procession and games were 
 exhibited anew, in honour of Jupiter. Hence it appears, that 
 Numa’s religious institutions in general are very wise, and that 
 this in particular is highly conducive to the purposes of piety, 
 namely, that when the magistrates or priests are employed in 
 any sacred ceremony, a herald goes before, and proclaims 
 aloud, Hoc age , i. e. be attentive to this; hereby commanding 
 every body to regard the solemn acts of religion, and not to 
 suffer any business or avocation to intervene and disturb them; 
 as well knowing that men’s attention, especially in what con¬ 
 cerns the worship of the gods, is seldom fixed but by a sort 
 of violence and constraint. 
 
 Rut it is not omy in so important a case, that tne Romans 
 begin anew their sacrifices, their processions, and games: they 
 do it for very small matters. If one of the horses that draw 
 the chariots, called Tensse , in which are placed the images of 
 the gods, happened to stumble, or if the charioteer took the 
 reigns in his left hand, the whole procession was to be repeat¬ 
 ed. And in later ages they have set about one sacrifice thirty 
 several times, on account of some defect or inauspicious ap¬ 
 pearance in it. Such reverence have the Romans paid to the 
 Supreme Being. 
 
 Meantime Marcius and Tullus held secret conferences with 
 the principal Volscians, in which they exhorted them to be 
 gin the war, while Rome was torn in pieces with factious dis¬ 
 putes; but a sense of honour restrained some of them from 
 breaking the truce, which was concluded for two years. The 
 Romans, however, furnished them with a pretence for it, liar 
 ing, through some suspicion or false suggestion, caused pro 
 clamation to be made at one of the public shows or games, that 
 all the Volscians should quit the town before sun-set. Some 
 say, it was a stratagem contrived by Marcius, who suborned 
 a person to go to the consuls, and accuse the Volscians of a 
 design to attack the Romans during the games, and to set fire 
 
424 
 
 CA1US MARCIUS COIJOLANUS. 
 
 to the city. This proclamation exasperated the whole Volscivn 
 nation against the Romans, and Tullus, greatly aggravating the 
 affront,* at last persuaded them to send to Rome, to demand 
 that the lands and cities which had been taken from them in 
 the war should be restored. The senate having heard what 
 the ambassadors had to say, answered with indignation, “ That 
 the Volscians might be the first to take up arms, but the Ro¬ 
 mans would be the last to lay them down.” Hereupon Tul¬ 
 lus summoned a general assembly of his countrymen, whom 
 he advised to send for Marcius, and, forgetting all past injuries, 
 to rest satisfied, that the service he would do them, now their 
 ally, would greatly exceed all the damage they had received 
 from him while their enemy. 
 
 Marcius accordingly was called in, and made an oration to 
 the people; who found that he knew how to speak as well as 
 fight, and that he excelled in capacity as well as courage, and 
 therefore they joined him in commission with Tullus. As he 
 was afraid that the Volscians would spend much time in pre 
 
 E >arations, and so lose a favourable opportunity for action, he 
 eft it to the magistrates and other principal persons in An- 
 tium to provide troops and whatever else was necessary, while 
 he, without making any set levies, took a number of volun¬ 
 teers, and with them overran the Roman territories, before 
 any body in Rome could expect it. There he made so much 
 booty that the Volscians found it difficult to carry it off, and 
 consume it in the camp. But the great quantity of provisions 
 he collected, and the damage he did the enemy by committing 
 such spoil, was the least part of the service in this expedition. 
 The great point he had in view in the whole matter, was to 
 increase the people’s suspicions of the nobility. For while he 
 ravaged the whole country, he was very attentive to spare the 
 lands of the patricians, and to see that nothing should be car¬ 
 ried off from them. Hence the ill opinion the two parties had 
 of each other; and consequently the troubles grew greater than 
 ever; the patricians accusing the plebeians of unjustly driving 
 out one of the bravest men in Rome, and the plebeians re¬ 
 proaching them with bringing Marcius upon them to indulge 
 their revenge, and with sitting secure spectators of what others 
 suffered by the war, while the war itself was a guard to their 
 lands and subsistence. Marcius having thus effected his pur¬ 
 pose, and inspired the Volscians with courage, not only to 
 
 * “ We alone,” said he, “ of all the different nations now in Rome, are 
 not thought worthy to see the games. We alone, like the profanest wretches 
 wirt outlaws, are driven from a public festival. Go, and tell in all your cities 
 And villages the distinguishing mark the Romans have put upon us.” 
 
CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 42D 
 
 meet, but even to despise the enemy, drew off his party with¬ 
 out being molested. 
 
 The v olscian forces assembled with great expedition and 
 alacrity; and they appeared so considerable, that it was 
 thought proper to leave part to garrison their towns, while the 
 rest marched against the Romans. Coriolanus leaving it in 
 the option of Tullus which corps he would command, Tullus 
 observed, that as his colleague was not at all inferior to him¬ 
 self in valour, and had hitherto fought with better success, he 
 thought it most adviseable for him to lead the army into the 
 field, while himself stayed behind to provide for the defence 
 of the towns, and to supply the troops that made the campaign 
 with every thing necessary. * 
 
 Marcius, strengthened still more by this division of the 
 command, marched first against Circeii,t a Roman colony; 
 and as it surrendered without resistance, he would not suffer 
 it to be plundered. After this, he laid waste the territories of 
 the Latins, expecting that the Romans would hazard a battle 
 for the Latins, who were their allies, and by frequent messen¬ 
 gers called upon them for assistance. But the commons of 
 Rome showed no alacrity in the affair, and the consuls, whose 
 office was almost expired, were not willing to run such a risk, 
 and therefore rejected the request of the Latins. Marcius 
 then turned his arms against Tolerium, Labici, Pedum, and 
 Bola, cities of Latium, which he took by assault; and because 
 they made resistance, sold the inhabitants as slaves, and plun¬ 
 dered their houses. At the same time, he took particular care 
 of such as voluntarily came over to him; and that they might 
 not sustain any damage against his will, he always encamped 
 at the greatest distance he could, and would not even touch 
 upon their lands if he could avoid it. 
 
 Afterwards he took Bollae, which is little more than twelve 
 miles from Rome, where he put to the sword almost all that 
 were of age to bear arms, and got much plunder. Tne rest 
 of the Volscians, who were left as a safeguard to the towns, 
 had not patience to remain at home any longer, but ran with 
 their weapons in their hands to Marcius, declaring that they 
 knew no other leader or general but him. His name and his 
 
 * It would have been very imprudent in Tullus to have left Coriolanus, 
 who had been an enemy, and now might possibly be only a pretended friend, 
 at the head of an army, in the bowels of L s country, while lie was marching 
 at the head of another against Rome. 
 
 \ For the right terminations of this and other towns soon after mentioned, 
 see Livy , book ii. c. 39. Plutarch calif the town Circaeum. His error is 
 much greater, when, a little below, he writes Claelix instead of Cluilise. 
 Sometimes, too, the former translator make a mistake, where Plutarch had 
 made none. 
 
 Vol I.- 3 K 
 
426 
 
 CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 
 
 valour were renowned through Italy. All were astonished 
 that one man’s changing sides could make so prodigious an 
 alteration in affairs. 
 
 Nevertheless, there was nothing but disorder at Rome. 
 The Romans refused to fight, and passed their time in cabals, 
 seditious speeches, and mutual complaints; until news was 
 brought that Coriolanus had laid siege to Lavinium, where 
 the holy symbols of the gods of their fathers were placed, and 
 from whence they derived their original, that being the first 
 city which Aeneas built. A wonderful and universal change 
 of opinion then appeared among the people, and a very strange 
 and absurd one among the patricians. The people were de¬ 
 sirous to annul the sentence against Marcius, and to recall him 
 to Rome, but the senate being assembled to deliberate on that 
 
 E oint, finally rejected the proposition; either out of a perverse 
 umour of opposing whatever measure the people espoused, 
 or perhaps unwilling that Coriolanus should owe his return to 
 the favour of the people; or else having conceived some re 
 sentment against him for harassing and distressing all the Ro¬ 
 mans, when he had been injured only by a part, and for show¬ 
 ing himself an enemy to his country, in •which he knew the 
 most respectable body had both sympathized with him, and 
 shared in his ill treatment. This resolution being announced 
 to the commons,* it was not in their power to proceed to vote 
 or to pass a bill; for a previous decree of the senate was ne¬ 
 cessary. 
 
 At this news Coriolanus was still more exasperated, so that 
 quitting the siege of Lavinium,t he marched in great fury to¬ 
 wards Rome, and encamped only five miles from it, at the 
 Fossze CluMse . The sight of him caused great terror and con 
 fusion, but for the present it appeased the sedition; for neither 
 magistrate nor senator durst any longer oppose the people’s 
 desire to recall him. When they saw the women running up 
 and down the streets, and the supplications and tears of the 
 aged men at the altars of the gods, when all courage and spirit 
 were gone, and salutary councils were no more; then they 
 acknowledged that the people were right in endeavouring to 
 be reconciled to Coriolanus, and that the senate were under a 
 great mistake, in beginning to indulge the passions of anger 
 and revenge, at a time when they should have renounced them. 
 All, therefore, agreed to send ambassadors to Coriolanus tc 
 
 * Perhaps the senate now refused to comply with the demands of the peo¬ 
 ple, either to clear themselves from the suspicion of maintaining a corres¬ 
 pondence with Coriolanus, or possibly out of that magnanimity which made 
 the Romans averse to peace, when they were attended with bad success 
 111 war. 
 
 •j- He left a body of troops to continue the blockade. 
 
oAIUS MARCIUS COMOLANUS. 
 
 42? 
 
 offer him liberty to return, and to entreat him to put an end to 
 the war. Those that went on the part of the senate, being 
 ail either relations or friends of Coriolanus, expected at the 
 first interview much kindness from a man who was thus con 
 nected with them. But it happened quite otherwise; for be¬ 
 ing conducted through the Volscian ranks, they found him 
 seated in council with a number of great officers, and with an 
 insufferable appearance of pomp and severity. He bade them 
 then declare their business, which they did in a very modest 
 and humble manner, as became the state of their affairs. 
 
 When they had made an end of speaking, he answered them 
 with much bitterness and high resentment of the injuries done 
 him; and, as general of the Volscians, he insisted, “ That the 
 Romans should restore all the cities and lands which they had 
 taken in the former wars; and that they should grant by de¬ 
 cree the freedom of the city to the Volscians, as they had done 
 to the Latins: for that no lasting peace could be made between 
 the two nations, but upon these just and equal conditions.”— 
 He gave them thirty days to consider of them; and having 
 dismissed the ambassadors, he immediately retired from the 
 Roman territories. 
 
 Several among the Yolscians, who for a long time had en 
 vied his reputation, and being uneasy at the interest he had 
 with the people, availed themselves of this circumstance to ca¬ 
 lumniate and reproach him. Tullus himself was of the num¬ 
 ber. Not that he had received any particular injury from Co 
 riolanus: but he was led away by a passion too natural to man. 
 It gave him pain to find his own glory obscured, and himselt 
 entirely neglected by the Yolscians, who looked upon Corio 
 lanus as their supreme head, and thought that others might 
 well be satisfied with that portion of power and authority 
 which he thought proper to allow them. Hence, secret hints 
 were first given, and in their private cabals his enemies ex 
 pressed their dissatisfaction, giving the name of treason to his 
 retreat. For though he had not betrayed their cities or armies, 
 yet the)' said he had traitorously given up time, by which these 
 and all other things are both won and lost. He had allowed 
 them a respite of no less than thirty days,* knowing their 
 
 * So Dacier paraphrases /xufyvdu;, a’P tv iKarrovt xpovoo xa/u&aviiv pma-fa c,\at| 
 and his paraphrase seems nearest the sound of the Greek. But the text is 
 manifestly corrupted, and it is not easy to restore the true reading*. Per¬ 
 haps the Latin translation, as published by Bryon, has the sense intended 
 by Plutarch. It is to this effect, when greater changes, than were necessary 
 in this case, might happen in a less space of time. But to justify that trans¬ 
 lation the Greek should run as folbws: wt^ovete v lAatTTow nlWot** 
 
 (sd.icet ntxt/uos) \ctjuj2civuv p.irdLQoKa.s. 
 
428 
 
 CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 
 
 affairs to be so embarrassed that they wanted such a space to 
 re-establish them. 
 
 Coriolanus, however, did not spend those thirty days idly 
 He harassed the enemy’s allies,* laid waste Iheir lands, and 
 took seven great and populous cities in that interval. The 
 Romans did not venture to send them any succours. They 
 were as spiritless, and as little disposed to the war, as if their 
 bodies had been relaxed and benumbed with the palsy. 
 
 When the term was expired, and Coriolanus returned with 
 all his forces, they sent a second embassy, “ To entreat him to 
 lay aside his resentment, to draw off the Volscians from their 
 territories, and then to pioceed as should seem most conducive 
 to the advantage of both nations. For that the Romans would 
 not give up any thing through fear; but if he thought it rea¬ 
 sonable that the Volscians should be indulged in some particu¬ 
 lar points, they would be duly considered if they laid down 
 their arms.” Coriolanus replied, “That as general of the 
 Volscians, he would give them no answer; but as one who 
 was yet a citizen of Rome, he would advise and exhort them 
 to entertain humble thoughts, and to come within three days 
 with a ratification of the just conditions he had proposed. At 
 the same time he assured* them, that if their resolutions should 
 be of a different nature, it would not be safe for them to come 
 any more into his camp with empty words.” 
 
 The senate having heard the report of the ambassadors, 
 considered the commonwealth as ready to sink in the waves 
 of a dreadful tempest, and therefore cast the last, the sacred 
 anchor , as it is called. They ordered all the priests of the 
 gods, the ministers and guardians of the mysteries, and all 
 that, by the ancient usage of their country, practised divina¬ 
 tion by the flight of birds, to go to Coriolanus, in their robes, 
 with the ensigns which they bear in the duties of their office, 
 and exert their utmost endeavours to persuade him to desist 
 from the war, and then to treat with his countrymen of arti¬ 
 cles of peace for the Volscians When they came, he did in¬ 
 deed vouchsafe to admit them into the camp, but showed them 
 no other favour, nor gave them a milder answer than the 
 others had received: “ He bade them,” in short, “ either ac- 
 cept the former proposals, or prepare for war. ” 
 
 When the priests returned, the Romans resolved to keep 
 close within the city and to defend the walls; intending onl} 
 to repulse the enemy, should he attack them, and placing their 
 chief hopes on the accidents of time and fortune; for they 
 
 * By this he prevented the allies of the Romans ftom assisting them, and 
 guarded against the charge of treachery, which some of the Volscians were 
 ready to bring against him. 
 
CAIUS MARC1US UORIOLANUS. 
 
 429 
 
 knew of no resource within themselves: the city was full of 
 trouble and confusion, terror and unhappy presages. At last 
 something happened similar to what is often mentioned by 
 Homer, but w T hich men, in general, are little inclined to be¬ 
 lieve. For when, on occasion of any great and uncommon 
 event; he says, 
 
 Pallas inspir’d that counsel. 
 
 And again, 
 
 But some immortal power who rules the mind. 
 
 Chang’d their resolves: 
 
 And elsewhere, 
 
 The thought spontaneous rising, 
 
 Or by some god inspir’d- 
 
 They despise the poet, as if, for the sake of absurd notions and 
 incredible fables, he endeavoured to take away our liberty of 
 will. A thing which Homer never dreamed of; for whatever 
 happens in the ordinary course of things, and is the effect 
 of reason and consideration, he often ascribes to our own 
 powers; as, 
 
 -My own great mind 
 
 1 then consulted; 
 
 And in another place, 
 
 Achilles heard with grief; and various thoughts 
 Perplex’d his mighty mind; 
 
 Once more, 
 
 -But she in vain 
 
 Tempted Bellerophon. The noble youth 
 With wisdom’s shield was arm’d. 
 
 And in extraordinary and wonderful actions, which requires 
 some supernatural impulse and enthusiastic movement, he 
 never introduces the Deity as depriving man of freedom of 
 will, but as moving the will. He does not represent the 
 heavenly power as producing the resolution, but ideas which 
 lead to the resolution. The act, therefore, is by no means in¬ 
 voluntary, since occasion only is given to free operations, and 
 confidence and good hope are superadded; for either the Su¬ 
 preme Being must be excluded from all casualty and influence 
 upon our actions, or it must be confessed that this is the only 
 way in which he assists men, and co-operates with them; since 
 
 38 
 
430 
 
 CAfUS MAKC1US CORIOLANUS. 
 
 it is not to be supposed that he fashions our corporeal organs, 
 or directs the motions of our hands and feet to the purposes he 
 designs, but that, by certain motives and ideas which he sug¬ 
 gests, he either excites the active powers of the will, or else 
 restrains them, * 
 
 The Roman women w T ere then dispersed in the several 
 temples, but the greatest part, and the most illustrious of the 
 matrons, made their supplications at the altar of Jupiter Capi 
 tolinus. Among the last was Valeria, the sister of the greaU 
 Publiccla* a person who had done the Romans the most con 
 siderabie services, both in peace and war. Publico]a died 
 some time before, as we have related in his life; but Valeria 
 still lived in the greatest esteem; for her life did honour to 
 her high birth. This woman discerning, by some divine im¬ 
 pulse, what would be the best expedient, rose and called upon 
 the other matrons to attend her to the house of Volumnia,t the 
 mother of Coriolanus. When she entered, and found her sit¬ 
 ting with her daughter-in-law and with the children of Corio- 
 lanus on her lap, she approached her, with her female com¬ 
 panions, and spoke to this effect:— u We address ourselves to 
 you, Volumnia and Vergilia, as women to women, without 
 any decree of the senate, or order of the consuls. But our god, 
 we believe, lending a merciful ear to our prayers, put it in 
 our minds to apply to you, and to entreat you to do a thing 
 that will not only be salutary to us and the other citizens, but 
 more glorious for you, if you hearken to us, than the reducing 
 their fathers and husbands from mortal enmity to peace and 
 friendship, was to the daughters of the Sabines. Come, then, 
 go along with us to Coriolanus; join your instances to ours; and 
 give a true and honourable testimony to your country, that 
 though she has received the greatest injuries from him, yet 
 she has neither done nor resolved upon any thing against you 
 in her anger, but restores you safe into his hands, though per¬ 
 haps she may not obtain any better terms to herself on that 
 account.” 
 
 When Valeria had thus spoken, the rest of the women join¬ 
 ed her request. Volumnia gave them this answer:—“ Beside 
 the share which we have in the general calamity, we are, my 
 friends, in particular very unhappy; since Marcius is lost to 
 us, his glory obscured, and his virtue gone; since we behold 
 him surrounded by the arms of the enemies of his country, not 
 as their prisoner, but their commander. But it is still a greater 
 
 * Plutarch represents the divine assistance as a moral influence , prevailing 
 (if it does prevail) by rational motives; and the best Christian divines de¬ 
 scribe it in the same manner. 
 
 + Dionysius of Halicarnassus and Livv call his mother Veturia ami his 
 wife Volumnia 
 
CA1US MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 
 
 43 i 
 
 misfortune to us, if our country is become so weak, as tc 
 have need to repose her hopes upon us; for I know not whether 
 he will have any regard for us, since he has had none for his 
 country, which he used to prefer to his mother, to his Wife, 
 and children. Take us, however, and make what use of us 
 you please. Lead us to him. If we can do nothing else, we 
 can expire at his feet in supplicating for Rome.” 
 
 She then took the children and Vergilia with her,* and went 
 with the other matrons to the Volscian camp. The sight of 
 them produced even in the enemy, compassion and a reveren¬ 
 tial silence. Coriolanus, who then happened to be seated 
 upon the tribunal with his principal officers, seeing the women 
 approach, was greatly agitated and surprised. Nevertheless, 
 he endeavoured to retain his wonted sternness and inexorable 
 temper, though he perceived that his wife w T as at the head of 
 them; but, unable to resist the emotions of affection, he could 
 not suffer them to address him as he sat. He descended from 
 the tribunal, and ran to meet them. First he embraced his 
 mother for a considerable time, and afterwards his wife and 
 children, neither refraining from tears, nor any other instance 
 of natural tenderness. 
 
 When he had sufficiently indulged his passion, and perceiv¬ 
 ed that his mother wanted to speak, he called the Volscian 
 counsellors to him, and Volumnia expressed herself to this 
 
 [ lurpose;—“ You see, my son, by our attire and miserable 
 ooks, and therefore I may spare myself the trouble of declar¬ 
 ing, to what condition your banishment has reduced us. Think 
 with yourself whether we are not the most unhappy of women, 
 wdien fortune has changed the spectacle that should have been 
 the most pleasing in the world, into the most dreadful; when 
 Volumnia beholds her son, and Vergilia her husband, encamp¬ 
 ed in a hostile manner before the walls of his native city; and 
 what to others is the greatest consolation under misfortune and 
 adversity, I mean prayer to the gods, to us is rendered im¬ 
 practicable; for we can not at the same time beg victory for 
 our country and your preservation, but what our worst ene¬ 
 mies would imprecate on us as a curse, must of necessity be 
 interwoven with our prayers. Your wife and children must 
 either see their country perish, or you. As to my own part, 
 I will not live to see (his war decided by fortune. If I can 
 not persuade you to prefer friendship and union to enmity and 
 its ruinous consequences, and so to become a benefactor to 
 
 * Valeria first gave advice of this design to the consuls, who proposed it 
 in the senate, where, after long debates, it was approved of by the fathers. 
 Then Veturia, and the most illustrious of the Roman matrons, in chariots 
 which the consuls had ordered to be vo* ™>adv for th? m. took the k wav to 
 I he enemy’s camp. 
 
432 
 
 CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 
 
 both sides, rather than the destruction of one, you must take 
 this along with you, and prepare to expect it, that you shall 
 not advance against your country, without trampling upon the 
 dead body of her that bore you; for it does not become me to 
 wait for that day, when my son shall be either led captive by 
 his fellow citizens, or triumph over Rome. If, indeed, I de¬ 
 sired you to save your country by ruining the Volscians, I 
 confess the case would be hard, and the choice difficult; for it 
 would neither be honourable to destroy your countrymen, nor 
 just to betray those who have placed tneir confidence in you 
 But what do we desire of you, more than deliverance from 
 our own calamities? A deliverance which will be equally 
 salutary to both parties,* but most to the honour of the Voh 
 scians, since it will appear that their superiority empowered 
 them t j grant us the greatest of blessings, peace and friend¬ 
 ship, while they themselves receive the same. If these take 
 place, yon will be acknowledged to be the principal cause of 
 them: if they do not, you alone must expect to bear the blame 
 from both nations; and though the chance of war is uncertain, 
 yet it will be the certain event of this, that if you conquer, 
 you will be a destroying demon to your country; if you are 
 beaten, it will be clear that, by indulging your resentment, 
 you have plunged your friends and benefactors in the greatest 
 of misfortunes. 55 
 
 Coriolanus listened to his mother while she went on vvitl 
 her speech, without saying the least word to her; and Yolum- 
 nia seeing him stand a long time mute after she had left speak¬ 
 ing, proceeded again in this manner:—“ Why are you silent, 
 my son? Is it an honour to yield every thing to anger and 
 resentment; and would it be a disgrace to yield to your mo¬ 
 ther in so important a petition? Or does it become a great 
 man to remember the injuries done him; and would it not 
 equally become a great and good man, with the highest regart 
 and reverence, to keep in mind the benefits he has received 
 from his parents? Surely you, of all men, should take care 
 to be grateful, who have suffered so extremely by ingratitude; 
 and yet, though you have already severely punished ycur 
 country, you have not made your mother the least return for 
 her kindness. The most sacred ties, both of nature and reli 
 gion, without any other constraint, require that you should in¬ 
 dulge me in this just and reasonable request; but if words can 
 not prevail, this only resource is left. 5 ’ When she had said 
 this, she threw herself at his feet, together with his wife and 
 children; upon which Coriolanus, crying out,—“0! mother, 
 
 * She Deg'ged a truce for a year, that in that time measures might be 
 taken for settling a solid and lasting peace. 
 
CAIUS MARCIUS C0R10LANUS. 
 
 *33 
 
 what is it you have done?” raised her from the ground, and, 
 tenderly pressing her hand, continued,—“ You have gained a 
 victory fortunate for your country, but ruinous to me. * I go, 
 vanquished by you alone.” Then, after a short conference 
 with his mother and wife, in private, he sent them back to 
 Rome, agreeably to their desire. Next morning he drew off 
 the Yolscians, who had not all the same sentiments of what' 
 had passed. Some blamed him; others, whose inclinations 
 were for peace, found no fault; others, again, though they dis¬ 
 liked what was done, did not look upon Coriolanus as a bad 
 man, but thought he was excusable in yielding to such power¬ 
 ful solicitations. However, none presumed to contradict his 
 orders, though they followed him rather out of veneration for 
 1 is virtue than regard to his authority. 
 
 The sense of the dreadful and dangerous circumstances 
 w hich the Roman people had been in Hy reason of the war, 
 never appeared so strong as when they were delivered from 
 it For no sooner did they perceive from the walls, that the 
 Volscians were drawing off, than all the temples were opened 
 and filled with persons crowned w T ith garlands, and offering 
 sacrifice, as for some great victory. But in nothing was the 
 public joy more evident, than in the affectionate regard and 
 honour which both the senate and people paid the women, 
 whom they both considered and declared the means of their 
 preservation. Nevertheless, when the senate decreed,t that 
 whatever they thought would contribute most to their glory 
 and satisfaction, the consuls should take care to see it done, 
 they only desired that a temple might be built to the fortune 
 of women, the expense of which they offered to defray them 
 selves, requiring the commonwealth to be at no other charge 
 than that of sacrifices, and such a solemn service as was suita 
 ble to the majesty of the gods. The senate, though they com¬ 
 mended their generosity, ordered the temple and shrine to be 
 erected at the public charge;^ but the women contributed 
 their money notwithstanding, and with it provided another 
 image of the goddess, which the Romans report, when it 
 was set up in the temple, to have uttered these words: 0 wo- 
 
 * He well foresaw that the Volscians would never forgive him the favout 
 he did their enemies. 
 
 \ It was decreed that an encomium of those matrons should be engraven 
 on a public monument. 
 
 * It was erected in the Latin way, about four miles from Rome, on the 
 pi ice where Veturia had overcome the obstinacy of her son. Valeria, who 
 had proposed so successful a deputation, was the first priestess of this tern* 
 p!'*, which was much frequented by the Roman women.— Dion. Halica* 
 p. 479, 480. Liv. lib. ii. c. 40. 
 
 V^ol. 1.— 3 L 
 
 38 
 
434 
 
 CAIUS MAIiCIUS CORIOLANUS. 
 
 men! most acceptable to the gods is this your pious 
 
 GIFT. 
 
 They fabulously report that this voice was repeated twice, 
 thus offering to our faith things that appear impossible. In¬ 
 deed we will not deny that images may have sweated, may 
 have been covered with tears, and emitted drops like blood. 
 For wood and stone often contract a scurf and mouldiness, 
 that produce moisture; and they not only exhibit many dif¬ 
 ferent colours themselves, but receive variety of tinctures from 
 the ambient air; at the same time, there is no reason why the 
 Deity may not make use of these signs to announce things to 
 come. It is also very possible, that a sound like that of a 
 sigh or a groan may proceed from a statue, by the rupture or 
 violent separation of some of the interior parts; but that an 
 articulate voice and expression clear, so full and perfect, 
 should fall from a thing inanimate, is out of all the bounds 
 of possibility; for neither the soul of man, nor even God him¬ 
 self, can utter vocal sounds, and pronounce words, without 
 an organized body and parts fitted for utterance. Wherever, 
 then, history asserts such things, and bears us down with the 
 testimony of many credible witnesses, we must conclude, that 
 some impression, not unlike that of sense, influenced the ima¬ 
 gination, and produced the belief of a real sensation; as in 
 sleep we seem to hear what we hear not, and to see what we 
 do not see. As for those persons, who are possessed with 
 such a strong sense of religion, that they can not reject any 
 thing of this kind, they found their faith on the wonderful 
 and incomprehensible power of God; for there is no manner 
 of resemblance between him and a human being, either in his 
 nature, his wisdom, his power, or his operations. If, there¬ 
 fore, he performs something which we can not effect, and 
 executes what with us is impossible, there is nothing in this 
 contradictory to reason; since, though he far excels us in 
 every thing, yet the dissimilitude and distance between him 
 and us appears most of all in the works which he hath wrought. 
 But much knowledge of things divine , as Heraclitus affirms, escapes 
 us through want of faith. 
 
 When Coriolanus returned, after this expedition, to An- 
 tium, Tullus, who both hated and feared him, resolved to as 
 sassinate him immediately; being persuaded, that if he missed 
 this, he should not have such another opportunity. First, 
 therefore, he collected and prepared a number of accomplices, 
 and then called upon Coriolanus to divest himself of his au 
 thority, and give an account of his conduct to the Volscians 
 Dreading the consequence of being reduced to a private sta- 
 tion, while Tullus, who had so great an interest with his 
 countrymen, was in power, he made answer, that if the Vol 
 
CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 
 
 436 
 
 $c/»ans required it, he would give up his commission, and not 
 otherwise, since he had taken it at their common request; but 
 that he was ready to give an account of his behaviour even 
 then, if the citizens ot Antium would have it so. Hereupon, 
 they met in full assembly, and some of the orators that were 
 prepared for it, endeavoured to exasperate the populace against 
 him. But when Coriolanus stood up, the violence cf the tu¬ 
 mult abated, and he had liberty to speak: the best part of the 
 people of Antium, and those that were most inclined to peace, 
 appearing ready to hear him with candour, and to pass sen¬ 
 tence with equity. Tullus was then afraid that he would 
 make but too good a defence; for he was an eloquent man, 
 and the former "advantages which he had procured the nation, 
 outweighed his present offence. Nay, the very impeach¬ 
 ment was a clear proof of the greatness of the benefits he had 
 conferred upon them; for they would never have thought 
 themselves injured in not conquering Rome, if they had not 
 been near taking it through his means. The conspirators, 
 therefore, judged it prudent not to wait any longer, or to try 
 the multitude; and the boldest cf their faction, crying out 
 that a traitor ought not to be heard, or suffered by the Vol 
 scians to act the tyrant, and refuse to lay down his authority* 
 rushed upon him in a body, and* killed him on the spot; not 
 one that was present lifting a hand to defend him. It was 
 soon evident that this was not done with the general approba¬ 
 tion; for they assembled from several cities to give his body 
 an honourable burial,t and adorned his monument with arms 
 and spoils as became a distinguished warrior and general. 
 
 When the Romans were informed of his death, they showed 
 
 * Dionysius of Halicarnassus says they stoned him to death. 
 
 ■f They dressed him in his general’s robes* and laid his corpse on a mag- 
 nificient bier, which was carried by such young officers as were most dis¬ 
 tinguished for their martial exploits. Before him were borne the spoils he 
 had taken from the enemy, the crowns he had gained, and plans of the 
 cities he had taken. In this order his body was laid on the pile, while 
 several victims were slain in honour to his memory. When the pile was 
 consumed they gathered up his ashes, which they interred on the spot, and 
 erected a magnificent monument there. Coriolanus was slain in the se¬ 
 cond year of the seventy-third Olympiad, in the two hundred and sixty- 
 sixth year of Rome, and eight years after his first campaign. According to 
 this account, he died in the flower of his age; but Livy informs us from 
 Fabius, a very ancient author, that he lived till he was very old; and that 
 in the decline of life he was wont to say that, “A state of exile was always 
 uncomfortable, but more so to an old man than to another.” We can not, 
 however, think that Coriolanus grew old among the Volscians. Had he 
 done so, his counsels would have preserved them from ruin; and after Tul- 
 Jus was slain, he would have restored their affairs, and have got them ad¬ 
 mitted to the rights and privileges of Roman citizens, in the same manner 
 as the Latins. 
 
43b ALCIBIADES AND CORIOLANUS COMPARED. 
 
 no sign either of favour or resentment. Only they permitted 
 the women, at their request, to go into mourning for ten 
 months, as they used to do for a father, a son, or a brother: 
 this being the longest term for mourning allowed by Numa 
 Pompilius, as we have mentioned in his life. 
 
 The Volscian affairs soon wanted the abilities of Marcius; 
 for, first of all, in a dispute which they had with the iEqui, 
 their friends and allies, which of the two nations should give 
 a general to their armies, they proceeded to blows, and a num¬ 
 ber were killed and wounded; and afterwards, coming to a 
 battle with the Romans, in which they were defeated, and Tul- 
 lus, together with the flower of their army, slain, they were 
 forced to accept of very disgraceful conditions of peace, by 
 which they were reduced to the obedience of Rome, and obli 
 ged to accept of such terms as the conquerors would allow 
 them. 
 
 ALCIBIADES AND CORIOLANUS 
 
 COMPARED. 
 
 Having now given a detail of all the actions of these two 
 great men, that we thought worthy to be known and remem¬ 
 bered, we may perceive at one glance, that as to their milita¬ 
 ry exploits the balance is nearly even; for both gave extraor¬ 
 dinary proofs of courage as soldiers, and of prudence and ca¬ 
 pacity as commanders-in-chief: though, perhaps, some may 
 think Alcibiades the more complete general, on account 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 pros¬ 
 pered, and as infallibly declined when they went over to the 
 enemy. 
 
 As to their behaviour in point of government, if the licen¬ 
 tiousness 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 excessive attachment to the patricians, were equally 
 detested by the Roman people. In this respect, therefore, 
 neither of them is to be commended; though he that avails 
 
ALCIBIADES AND CORIOLANUS COMPARED. 
 
 437 
 
 himself of popular arts, and shows too much indulgence, is 
 ess blameable than he, who, to avoid the imputation of obse- 
 
 3 uiousness, treats the people with severity. It is, indeed, a 
 isgrace 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 of his administration. The latter has 
 been most blamed for the trick which he put upon the Lace¬ 
 daemonian ambassadors, as Thucydides tells us, and by which 
 he renewed the war. Yet this stroke of policy, though it 
 plunged xAthens again in war, rendered the alliance with the 
 Mantineans and Argives, which was brought about by Alci¬ 
 biades, much stronger and more respectable. 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 influenced, as Alcibiades was, but he did 
 it to gratify his anger, a passion which , as Dion says, is ever un¬ 
 grateful to its votaries . By this means he disturbed all Italy, 
 and in his quarrel with his country destroyed many cities 
 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 per¬ 
 son 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 respectable part both suffered and sym¬ 
 pathized with him. And afterwards, when the Romans en¬ 
 deavoured 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 return 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 fear¬ 
 ed and hated him, intended to despatch him privately. But il 
 was r.ot so honourable in Coriolanus to desert the Volscians, 
 
438 ALCIBIADES AMD C0R10LANUS COMPARED. 
 
 who had treated him with the utmost kindness, appointed him 
 general with full authority, and reposed in him the highest 
 confidence; very different in this respect from Alcibiades, who 
 was abused, to their own purposes, rather than employed and 
 trusted by the Lacedaemonians; and who, after having been 
 tossed about in their city and their camp, w&> 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 ut¬ 
 ter 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 plea¬ 
 sures; while Coriolanus refused to receive even what the ge¬ 
 nerals he served under would have given him with honour 
 Hence the behaviour 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 in¬ 
 sult, 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 great man 
 besides his other extraordinary talents, had the art of insinua 
 ting himself into the affections of those he conversed with.*' 
 For want of this talent, the great actions and virtues of Corio¬ 
 lanus were odious even to those who received the benefit of 
 them, and who, notwithstanding, could not endure that auste¬ 
 rity which , as Plato says, is the companion of solitude. But a s 
 Alcibiades, on the other hand, knew how to treat those with 
 whom he conversed, with an engaging civility, it is no won¬ 
 der if the glory of his exploits flourished in the favour and 
 honourable regard of mankind, since his very faults had some¬ 
 times their grace and elegance. Hence it was, that though his 
 conduct was often very prejudicial to Athens, yet he was fre 
 uuently 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 
 io considerable services while he commanded the armies of 
 lis country, though for the enemy against his country he did; 
 but that Alcibiades, both as a soldier and a general, did great 
 things for the Athenians. When amongst his fellow-citizens, 
 Alcibiades was superior to all the attempts of his enemies, 
 
 * For he prevented Tissaphernes from assisting the Spartans with all his 
 forces. Thus he served the Athenians and the Persians at the same time; 
 fer it was undoubtedly the interest of the Persians to preserve the two lead¬ 
 ing powers of Greece in a condition to annoy each other, and, in the mean 
 time, to reap the advantage themselves. 
 
ALCIBIA.DES AND CORIOLANUS COMPARED. 439 
 
 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 Volsci- 
 ans, against all rights, indeed, whether human or divine: 
 nevertheless, he afforded them a colour for what they did, by 
 granting 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 oppor¬ 
 tunity for the Volscians. For surely he would not have drawn 
 off the forces without the consent of those that committed 
 them to his conduct, 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 mothers account, but have spared 
 her with it; for both his mother and wife made a part of his 
 native city, which he was besieging. But inhumanly to re¬ 
 ject the supplication 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 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 invidious, and 
 so far from being engaging, that, in fact, it savoured of cruel¬ 
 ty, and consequently was unacceptable to both parties. He 
 retired without being won by the supplications of those he was 
 at war with, and without consent of those for w T hom he under 
 took it. The cause of all which was, the austerity of his man¬ 
 ners, his arrogance, and inflexibility of mind, things hateful 
 enough to the people at ail times; but, wffien united with am¬ 
 bition, 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 
 those are denied them. It is true, neither Metellus, nor Aris¬ 
 tides, 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 
 occasion, miscarried in their suffrages, or were condemned in 
 large lines, they nourished no anger against their ungrateful 
 countrymen, but were satisfied with their repentance, and re¬ 
 conciled 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 revenging ar v slight he may suffer; for extreme 
 
440 ALCIBIADES AND CORrOLANUS COMPARED. 
 
 resentment, in case of disappointment in a pursuit of honour 
 must be the eflect of an extreme desire of it. 
 
 Alcibiades; for his part,'readdy acknowledged that he was 
 charmed with honours, and that he was Very uneasy at being 
 neglected; and therefore he endeavoured to recommend him¬ 
 self 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 thos^vho 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 
 blameable part of his character; all the rest is great and glori¬ 
 ous. * 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 de~ 
 eency and honour. 
 
 E2IP OJ vex.. 5.