Essays

BOOK IX. (part 10)

Seeking for cure of love-inflicted wounds, From pleasing numbers and melodious sounds.

And here, Daphnaeus, if the love of Lysandra have not buried in oblivion your former sportive dalliances, I would desire you to call to mind and oblige us with the repetition of those elegant raptures of Sappho, wherein she tells us how that, when the person beloved by her appeared, her speech forsook her, her body was all over in a sweat; how she grew pale and wan, and was surprised with a sudden trembling and dizziness. To this Daphnaeus consented; and so soon as he had recited the verses, said my father: So Jupiter help me, is not this an apparent seizure of something more than human upon the soul? Can this be other than some celestial rapture of the mind? What do we find equal to it in the Pythian prophetess, when she sits upon the tripod? Where do we find the flutes which are used in the Bacchanalian orgies, or the tabors played upon in the ceremonies of the Mother of the Gods, rouse up such noble transports among that fanatic sort of enthusiasts? Many there are that behold the same body and the same beauty, but the lover only admires and is ravished with it. And what is the reason, do ye think? For we do not perceive or understand it from Menander, when he says:

’Tis the occasion that infects the heart, For only he that’s wounded feels the smart.

But it is the God of Love that gives the occasion, seizing upon some, and letting others go free. What therefore had been more seasonable for me to have spoken before, since it is now chopped into my mouth (as Aeschylus says), I think I will not even now let go, as being a matter of great importance. For it may be, my dear friend, there is not any thing in the world which was not made perceptible by sense, but what gained credit and authority at the first either from fables, or from the law, or else from rational discourse. And therefore poets, lawgivers, and in the third place philosophers, were all along the first that instructed and confirmed us in our opinion of the Gods. For all agree that there are Gods; but concerning their number, their order, their essence and power, they vastly differ one among another. For the philosophers’ Deities are subject neither to age nor diseases, neither do they undergo any labor or pain,

Exempted from the noise and hurry Of busy Acherontic ferry.

And therefore they will not admit poetical Deities, like Strife and Prayers;[104] nor will they acknowledge Fear and Terror to be Gods or the sons of Mars. They also differ from the lawgivers in many things. Thus Xenophanes told the Egyptians not to worship Osiris as a God if they thought him to be mortal, and if they thought him to be a God not to bewail him. Then again, the poets and lawgivers vary from the philosophers, and will not so much as hear them, while they deify certain ideas, numbers, unities, and spirits; such is the wild variety and vast difference of opinions among this sort of people. Therefore, as there were at Athens the three factions of the Parali, Epacrii, and Pedieis, that could never agree but were always at variance one with another, yet when they were assembled, gave their suffrages unanimously for Solon, and chose him with one consent for their peacemaker, governor, and lawgiver, as to whom the highest reward of virtue was, without all doubt or question, due; so the three different sects or factions in reference to the Gods, in giving their opinions some for one and some for another, as being by no means willing to subscribe one to another, are all positive in their consent as to the God of Love. Him the most famous of the poets, and the numerous acclamations of the philosophers and lawgivers, have enrolled in the catalogue of the Gods “with loud praises and harmonious acclaim,” as Alcaeus says of the Mitylenaeans when they chose Pittacus for their prince. So Hesiod, Plato, and Solon bring forth Cupid out of Helicon, and conduct him in pomp and state into the Academy, to be our king, governor, and director, drawn in by friendship and intercourse with all their pairs of horses,—not the friendship which, as Euripides says, is

With fetters bound, but not of brass,[105]

as if the bonds of love were only the cold and ponderous chains of necessity, made use of as a colorable pretence to excuse and qualify shame, but such friendship as is carried upon winged chariots to the most lovely objects that exist, and to sights more divine than this earth affords. But on this point others have better discoursed.

19. After my father had thus delivered himself; Do you not perceive, said Soclarus, how, being fallen a second time into the same matter, you have as it were by force constrained yourself, and unjustly deprived us—if I may speak what I think—of that same sacred discourse which you were entering into? For as before you gave us a hint concerning Plato and the Egyptians, but passed them over as if it had been done against your will; so you do now again. Now as to what has been notably uttered by Plato, or rather by our Goddesses here (the Muses) through Plato’s mouth, do not trouble yourself to tell us this, even although we should request it. But whereas you have obscurely hinted that the fables of the Egyptians accord with Plato’s opinion concerning love, we know you have too great kindness for us to conceal your knowledge from us; and though it be but a little of those important matters, it shall suffice us. Thereupon the rest of the company declaring their readiness to give attention, my father thus began: The Egyptians, said he, and also the Grecians set up two Deities of love; the one vulgar, the other celestial; to which they add a third, which they believe to be the sun; and as for Venus, they pay her a very great veneration. We ourselves also do find that there is a great affinity and resemblance between the sun and the God of Love. For neither of them is material fire, as some conjecture. All that we acknowledge is only this, that there is a certain soft and generative heat and warmth proceeding from the sun, which affords to the body nourishment, light, and relaxation of cold; whereas that warmth which comes from love works the same effects in the soul. And as the sun breaking forth from the clouds and after a thick fog is much hotter; so love, after passionate anger and jealousies are over, and the beloved one is again reconciled, grows more delightful and fervent. Moreover, as some believe the sun to be kindled and extinguished, they also imagine the same things concerning love, as being mortal and unstable. For neither can a constitution not enured to exercise endure the sun, nor the disposition of an illiterate and ill-tutored soul brook love without trouble and pain; for both are alike distempered and diseased, for which they lay the blame upon the power of the God, and not their own weakness. Herein only there may seem to be some difference between them; for that the sun displays to the sight upon the earth both beauty and deformity at once, but love is a luminary that affords us the view of beautiful objects only, and persuades lovers to cast their eyes only upon what is pleasing and delightful, and with a careless eye to overlook all other things. On the other side, they that attribute the name of Venus to the moon, although they have no convincing proof, still have hit upon a certain similarity. For that the moon is celestial and divine, and the region of mixture between mortal and immortal; but it is weak of itself, obscure and dark without the presence of the sun; as Venus is where love is absent. Therefore more properly and with more probability the moon is likened to Venus, and the sun to Love, rather than to any other of the Gods.

Nevertheless, we must not therefore say they are all one. For neither are the soul and body the same, but distinct; as the sun is visible, but love is perceptible only by sense. And if it might not be thought too harsh a saying, a man might affirm that the sun and love act contrary to one another. For the sun diverts the understanding from things intelligible to sensible objects, alluring and fascinating the sight with the grace and splendor of his rays, and persuading us to search for other things, and even for truth itself, within and about himself, and nowhere else. And we appear to be passionately in love with the sun, because, as Euripides says,

He always on the earth displays The glory of his burning rays,[106]

for want of our knowledge of another life, or rather, through our forgetfulness of those things which love calls to our remembrance. For as, when we are newly awaked and come into a bright and dazzling light, we forget whatever appeared to the soul in our dreams; so the sun seems to stupefy our recollection and impoison our understanding, when we change from the former life and enter this world, so that in our pleasure and admiration we forget all other considerations besides that of the present life. Though there indeed are the real substances proper for the contemplation of the soul; here, as in sleep, it embraces only dreams, and gazes in admiration and astonishment at what appears to it most beautiful and divine, while

Fallacious charming dreams about it fly;—

it being persuaded that here every thing is goodly and highly to be prized, unless it happens upon some divine and chaste love to be its physician and preserver. This love, entering through the body, becomes a guide to lead the soul from the world below to truth and the fields of truth, where full, pure, deceitless beauty dwells; and leading forth and guiding upward those that now after a long time are eager to embrace and live with such beauty, it stands by them, like a friendly mystagogue at the sacred ceremonies of initiation. But no sooner is the soul sent from thence again, but love is no longer able to make her approaches of herself, but by the body. And therefore as geometricians, when children are not able of themselves to apprehend the intelligible ideas of incorporeal and impassible substance, form and set before their eyes the tangible and visible imitations of spheres, cubes, and dodecahedrons; in like manner celestial love, having framed lovely mirrors to represent lovely objects,—things mortal and passible to represent things divine, and sensible objects to represent those perceptible only to the eye of reason,—shows them to us glittering in the forms, colors, and shape of youth in its prime, and first insensibly moves the memory inflamed by the sight of these objects.

Whence it comes to pass that some, through the stupidity of their friends and acquaintance, endeavoring by force and against reason to extinguish that flame, have enjoyed nothing of true benefit thereby, but only either disquieted themselves with smoke and trouble, or else rushing headlong into obscure and irregular pleasures, obstinately cast themselves away. But as many as by sober and modest ratiocination have sincerely extinguished the raging heat of the fire, and left behind only a warm and glowing heat in the soul,—which causes no violent earthquake, as it was once called, rousing the seed and causing a gliding of atoms compressed by smoothness and titillation, but a wonderful and engendering diffusion, as in a blossoming and well-nourished plant, which opens the pores of obedience and affection,—these, I say, in a short time passing by the bodies of those whom they love, penetrate more inwardly and fall to admire their manners and dispositions; and calling off their eyes from the body, they converse together, and contemplate one another in their discourses and in their actions, provided there be but the least scrip or appearance of beauty in the understanding. If not, they let them go, and turn their affections upon others, like bees that will not fasten upon many plants and flowers, because they cannot gather honey from them. But where they find any footstep, any emanation, any resemblance of a divinity, ravished with delight and admiration as they recall it to memory, they attract it to themselves, and are revived by striving to attain to what is truly amiable, happy, and beloved by all mankind.

20. True it is, that the poets, according to their sportive humor, seem to write many things in merriment concerning this Deity, and to make him the subject of their lascivious songs in the height of their revelling jollity, making but little serious mention of him; whether out of judgment and reason, or being assured of the truth by divine inspiration, is the question. Among the rest, there is one thing which they say very oddly concerning the birth and generation of this God:

Young Zephyr, doting on his golden hair, At last the silver-slippered Iris won; And thus embraced, at length she bore a son, Of all the Gods the shrewdest and most fair:[107]

unless the grammarians have likewise persuaded you, by saying that this fable was invented to set forth the variety and gay diversity of passions that attend on love.

To whom Daphnaeus: To what other end or purpose could it be? Hear me then, said my father; for ’tis no more than what the celestial meteor constrains us to say. The affection of the sight in the case of the rainbow (or Iris) is caused by reflection. For when the sight lights upon a cloud somewhat of a dewy substance, but smooth, and moderately thick withal, and we behold the repercussion of the sunbeams upon it, together with the light and splendor about the sun, it begets an opinion in us that the apparition is in the cloud. In like manner, this same subtle invention of love-sophistry in generous and noble souls causes a repercussion of the memory from objects that here appear and are called beautiful, to the beauty really divine, truly amiable and happy, and by all admired. But most people pursuing and taking hold of the fancied image of this beauty in boys and women, as it were seen in a mirror, reap nothing more assured and certain than a little pleasure mixed with pain. But this seems to be no more than a delirium or dizziness of the vulgar sort, beholding their empty and unsatisfied desires in the clouds, as it were in so many shadows; like children who, thinking to catch the rainbow in their hands, snatch at the apparition that presents itself before their eyes. But a generous and modest lover observes another method; for his contemplations reflect only on that beauty which is divine and perceptible by the understanding; but lighting upon the beauty of a visible body, and making use of it as a kind of organ of the memory, he embraces and loves, and by conversation argumenting his joy and satisfaction still more and more inflames his understanding. But neither do these lovers conversing with bodies rest satisfied in this world with a desire and admiration of this same light; neither when they are arrived at another world after death, do they return hither again as fugitives, to hover about the doors and mansions of new-married people and disturb their dreams with ghosts and visions; which sort of visions really come only from men and women given to pleasure and corporeal delights, who by no means deserve the name and characters of true lovers. Whereas a lover truly chaste and amorous, being got to the true mansion of beauty, and there conversing with it as much as it is lawful for him to do, mounted upon the wings of chaste desire, becomes pure and hallowed; and being initiated into sacred orders, continues dancing and sporting about his Deity, till returning again to the meadows of the Moon and Venus, and there laid asleep, he becomes ready for a new nativity. But these are points too high for the discourse which we have proposed to ourselves.

To return therefore to our purpose; Love, according to Euripides, with all the rest of the Gods, delights

When mortals here his honored name invoke;[108]

on the other side, he is no less offended when any affront or contempt is put upon him, as he is most kind and benign to those that entertain him with proper respect. For neither does Jupiter surnamed the Hospitable so severely prosecute injuries done to strangers and suppliants, nor is Jupiter Genitalis so rigorous in accomplishing the curses of parents disobeyed, as Love is to listen to the complaints of injured lovers; being the scourger and punisher of proud, ill-natured, and ill-bred people. For, not to mention Euxynthetus and Leucomantis, at this day in Cyprus called the Peeper, ’tis a hundred to one but you have heard of the punishment inflicted upon Gorgo the Cretan, not much unlike to that of Leucomantis, only that Gorgo was turned into a stone as she looked out of a window to see her love going to his grave. With this Gorgo Asander fell in love, a young gentleman virtuous and nobly descended, but reduced from a flourishing estate to extremity of poverty. However, he did not think so meanly of himself but that, being her kinsman, he courted this Gorgo for a wife, though she had many suitors at the same time by reason of her great fortune; and he so carried this business that, notwithstanding his numerous and wealthy rivals, he had gained the good-will of all her guardians and nearest relations....

21. Now as for those things which they say are the causes that beget love, they are not peculiar to this or the other sex, but common to both. For it cannot be that those images that enter into amorous persons and whisk about from one part to another, by their various forms moving and tickling the mass of atoms that slide into the seed, can come from young boys, and that the same cannot come from young women. But as to these noble and sacred remembrances with which the soul is winged, recalling that same divine, real, and Olympic beauty, what should hinder but that these may pass from boys and young men, and also from virgins and young women, whenever a disposition chaste and good-natured appears united with bloom of youth and grace of body? For, as a handsome and well-made shoe shows the proportion of the foot (as Ariston says), so they that have judgment in these matters can discern the splendid, upright, and uncorrupted footsteps of a noble and generous soul in beautiful forms and features, and bodies undefiled. For, if a voluptuous person, who when the question was put to him,

To which are your hot passions most inclined, Or to the male, or to the female kind?

answered thus,

’Tis the same thing to me Where’er I beauty see,

was thought to have returned a proper and pertinent answer and one that accorded with his passions, is it possible that a noble and generous lover directs his amours not to loveliness and good-nature, but only to the parts that distinguish the sex? For certainly a man that delights in horses will no less value the mettle and swiftness of Podargus, than of Aetha that was Agamemnon’s mare; and he that is a good huntsman does not only delight in dogs, but mixes with his cry the bitches of Crete and Laconia; and shall he that is a lover as well as of civil behavior carry himself with an inequality more to one than to another, and make a distinction, as of garments, between the love of men and women? But some say that beauty is the flower of virtue. Will they then affirm, that the female sex never blossoms nor makes any show of tendency to virtue? It were absurd to think so. Therefore was Aeschylus in the right when he said, that he could never mistake the fire in the eye of a young woman who had once known a man. Now then are those signs and marks of lasciviousness, wantonness, and impudence to be discovered in the visages of women, and shall there be no light shining in their faces for the discovery of modesty and chastity? Nay, shall there be many such signs, and those apparent, and shall they not be able to allure and provoke love? Both are contrary to reason, and dissonant from truth. But every one of these things is common to both sexes, as we have showed.

Now then, Daphnaeus, let us confute the reason that Zeuxippus has but now alleged, by making love to be all one with inordinate desire that hurries the soul to intemperance. Not that it is his opinion, but only what he has frequently heard from men morose and no way addicted to love. Of this class there are some who, marrying poor silly women for the sake of some petty portion, and having nothing to do with them and their money but to make them perpetual drudges in pitiful mechanic employments, are every day brawling and quarrelling with them. Others, more desirous of children than of wives, like cicadae that spill their seed upon squills or some such like herb, discharge their lust in haste upon the next they meet with; and having reaped the fruit they sought for, bid marriage farewell or else regard it not at all, neither caring to love nor to be beloved. And in my opinion, the words στέργειν and στέργεσθαι, which signify dearly to love and dearly to be beloved again, differing but one letter from στέγειν, which signifies to contain or endure, seem to me to import and denote that mutual kindness called conjugal, which is intermixed by time and custom with necessity. But in that wedlock which love supports and inspires, in the first place, as in Plato’s Commonwealth, there will be no such language as “thine” and “mine.” For properly to speak, there is not community of goods among all friends; but only where two friends, though severed in body, yet have their souls joined and as it were melted together, and neither desire to be two nor believe themselves to be separate persons. And, in the second place, there will be that mutual respect and reverence, which is the chiefest happiness of wedlock. Now as to that respect that comes from without, carrying with it more force of law than voluntary and reciprocal duty, or that comes by fear and shame,

And many other curbs, that loose desire And lawless frisks of wanton heat require,[109]

these are always present with those who are coupled in matrimony. Whereas in love there is so much continency, so much modesty, and so much of loyal affection, that even if it happen upon an intemperate and lascivious soul, it is thereby diverted from all other amours, by cutting off all malapert boldness and bringing down the insolence of imperious pride; instead of which it introduces modest bashfulness, silence, and submission, and adorning it with decent and becoming behavior, makes it for ever after the obedient observer of one lover. Most certainly you have heard of that celebrated and highly courted courtesan Lais, how her beauty inflamed all Greece, or rather how two seas strove for her. This famous beauty, being seized with an ardent affection for Hippolochus the Thessalian, leaving the Acrocorinthus, as the poet describes it,

With sea-green water all encompassed round,[110]

and privately avoiding the great army (as I may call it) of those that courted her favor, withdrew herself modestly to the enjoyment of him only; but the women, incensed with jealousy and envying her surpassing beauty, dragged her into the temple of Venus, and there stoned her to death; for which reason it is called to this day the temple of Venus the Murderess. We ourselves have known several young damsels, mere slaves, who never would submit to the embraces of their masters, and private men who have disdained the company of queens, when love had the absolute dominion of their hearts. For, as in Rome, when there is a dictator chosen, all other chief magistrates lay down their offices; so all such persons, where love is truly predominant, are immediately free and manumitted from all other lords and masters, and afterwards live like servants in the temple of Love. And indeed a virtuous and generous lady, once linked to her lawful husband by an unfeigned affection, will sooner choose the embraces of bears and dragons, than to be the bed-fellow of any other person whatsoever but her only spouse.

22. Of this although we might produce examples without number, yet among you, that are now joined (as it were) in the same dance and festival with Love,[111] it will not be from the purpose to relate the story of Camma the Galatian. For she being a woman of transcendent beauty, and married to Sinatus the tetrarch, Synorix, one of the most powerful men in all Galatia, fell desperately in love with her; and that he might enjoy her, murdered her husband Sinatus, since he could not prevail with her either by force or persuasion, while her husband was alive. Thereupon Camma, having no other sanctuary for the preservation of her chastity nor consolation in her affliction, retired to the temple of Diana, where she remained a votaress to the Goddess, not admitting any person so much as to speak to her, though she had many suitors that sought her in wedlock. But when Synorix boldly presumed to put the question to her, she neither seemed to reject his motion, neither did she upbraid him with the crime he had committed; as if he had been induced to perpetrate so vile an act, not out of any malicious intent to Sinatus, but merely out of a pure and ardent love and affection to her. Thereupon he came with greater confidence, and demanded her in marriage. She, on the other side, met him no less cheerfully; and leading him by the hand to the altar of the Goddess, after she had poured forth a small quantity of hydromel well tempered with a rank poison, as it were an atonement offering to the Goddess, she drank off the one half of that which remained herself, and gave the other half to the Galatian. And then, so soon as she saw he had drunk it off, she gave a loud groan, and calling her deceased husband by his name; This day, said she, my most dear and beloved husband, I have long expected, as having lived, deprived of thee, a desolate and comfortless life. But now receive me joyfully; for for thy sake I have revenged myself upon the most wicked among men, willing to have lived with thee, and now no less rejoicing to die with him. Thus Synorix, being carried out of the temple, soon after expired; but Camma, surviving him a day and a night, is reported to have died with an extraordinary resolution and cheerfulness of spirit.

23. Now in regard there have been many such, as well among us as among the barbarians, who can bear with those that reproach Venus that, being coupled and present with Love, she becomes a hindrance of friendship? Whereas any sober and considerate person may rather revile the company of male with male, and justly call it intemperance and lasciviousness.

A vile affront to Nature, no effect Of lovely Venus or of chaste respect.

And therefore, as for those that willingly prostitute their bodies, we look upon them to be the most wicked and flagitious persons in the world, void of fidelity, neither endued with modesty nor any thing of friendship; and but too truly and really, according to Sophocles,

They who ne’er had such friends as these, Believe their blessing double; And they that have them, pray the Gods To rid them of the trouble.[112]

And as for those who, not being by nature lewd and wicked, were circumvented and forced to prostitute themselves, there are no men whom these always look upon with greater suspicion and more perfect hatred than those that deluded and flattered them into so vile an act, and they bitterly revenge themselves when they find an opportunity. For Crateas killed Archelaus, who had rid him in his youth; and Pytholaus slew Alexander of Pherae. Periander tyrant of the Ambraciotes asked his minion, whether he were not yet with child; which the lad took so heinously that he stabbed him.

On the other hand, among women that are married, these are but the beginnings of friendship, as it were, a communicating and imparting of great and sacred mysteries. The pleasure of coition is the least thing; but the honor the submission to mutual love and fidelity which daily germinates from this, convince us that neither the Delphians raved, who gave the name of Arma (union) to Venus, nor that Homer was in an error, who called the conjunction of man and woman by the name of friendship; but that Solon was a lawgiver the most experienced in conjugal affairs, who decreed that a husband should lie with his wife thrice a month at least,—not for pleasure’s sake, but that, as cities renew their treaties one with another at such a time, so the alliance of matrimony might be renewed by this enjoyment, after the jars which may have arisen in the mean time. But you will say, there are many men in love with women that act amiss and furiously. But are there not more enormities committed by those that are enamored upon boys?

So often as these eyes of mine behold That beardless youth, that smooth and lovely boy, I faint and fall; then wish I him to hold Within mine arms, and so to die with joy; And that on tomb were set, where I do lie, An epigram, mine end to testify.

But though there is this raging passion after boys, as well as a dotage upon women, yet can neither be said to be truly love. And therefore it is an absurdity to aver that women are not capable even of other virtues. For why speak of so many signals of their chastity, prudence, justice, and fidelity, when we find others no less eminent for their fortitude, resolution, and magnanimity; after all which, to tax them of being naturally incapable of friendship only—not to mention the other virtues—is a hard case. For they are naturally lovers of their children, affectionate to their husbands; and this same natural affection of theirs, like a fertile soil, as it is capable of friendship, so is no less pliable to persuasion, nor less accompanied with all the graces. But as poetry, adapting to speech the conditements of melody, measure, and rhythm, renders the wholesome and instructive part of it so much the more moving, and the noxious part so much the more apt to corrupt the mind; so, Nature having adorned a woman with the charms of beauty and persuasive language, a lascivious woman makes use of these perfections to please herself and deceive others, but in a modest and sober woman they work wonders towards the gaining and fixing the good will and favor of her husband. Therefore Plato exhorted Xenocrates, otherwise generous and brave, but very morose in his humor, to sacrifice to the Graces; but he would have exhorted a virtuous and modest woman to sacrifice to Love, for his propitious favor to her marriage, in ordering it so that her behavior may prove a sufficient charm to keep her husband at home, ... and that he may not ramble after other women, and then be forced to exclaim, as in the comedy,

Curse to this rage of mine, so given to roam; What a good wife do I abuse at home!

For in wedlock to love is a far greater blessing than to be beloved; since it preserves and keeps people from falling into many errors, nay, all those that corrupt and ruin matrimony.

24. As for those passionate affections which at the beginning of conjugal love raise certain fits, which are somewhat sharp and biting, most fortunate Zeuxippus, I would not have you fear them, like an ulcer or scarification. Though perhaps it would not be amiss, if it should cost you some small wound to be joined to a virtuous woman, like trees that grow together when grafted by incision upon a proper stock. The beginning of conception itself is a kind of exulceration; for there can be no mixture of things that are not affected reciprocally one by the other. The very mathematical rudiments do not a little perplex little children at the first, and philosophy troubles the brains of young beginners; but this corroding humor is not lasting, either to these or to lovers. Insomuch that a man would think that love at first resembled the mixture of two liquors, which, when once they begin to incorporate, by their ebullition discover some little disgusts; for so love at the beginning bubbles up with a kind of effervency, till being settled and purified it acquires a firm and stable constitution. For this indeed is properly that kind of mixture which is called a thorough mixture; whereas the love of other friends, conversing and living together, is like the touches and interweavings of Epicurus’s atoms, subject to raptures and separations, but can never compose such a union as proceeds from love assisting conjugal society. For neither are the pleasures received from any other source so great, nor the benefits conferred on others so lasting, nor is the glory and beauty of any other friendship so noble and desirable,

As when the man and wife at board and bed Under one roof a life of concord lead.[113]

Moreover, it is a thing warranted by law; while Nature shows us that even the Gods themselves stood in need of love for the sake of common procreation. Thus the poets tell us that earth is in love with the showers, and heaven with the earth; and the natural philosophers are of opinion that the sun is in love with the moon, that they copulate every month, and that the moon conceives by virtue of that conjunction. And it would of necessity follow that the earth, which is the common mother of all mankind, of all animals, and of all manner of plants, would one day cease and be extinguished, should that same ardent love and desire infused by the God forsake matter, and matter cease to pursue and lust after the principles and motions of generation.

But that we may not seem to wander too far or spend our time in trifles, you yourselves are not ignorant that these pederasties are by many said to be the most uncertain and least durable things in the world, and that they are derided by those that make use of them, who affirm that the love of boys, like an egg, may be destroyed by a hair;[114] and the lovers themselves are like the wandering Scythians, who, having spent their spring in flowery and verdant pastures, presently dislodge from thence, as out of an enemy’s country. And Bion the Sophister was yet more sharp and satirical, when he called the beards of young and beautiful striplings by the names of Harmodii and Aristogitons (i.e. tyrant-killers), since by that budding show of manhood their lovers are delivered from their pleasant tyranny. But these imputations are not justly charged upon true lovers. Elegant therefore was that which was said by Euripides. For as he was clasping and embracing the fair Agatho, after the down began to sprout forth upon his chin, he cried that the very autumn of lovely youths was pleasing and delightful. But I say more than this, that the love of virtuous women does not decay with the wrinkles that appear upon their faces, but remains and endures to their graves and monuments. Then again, we shall find but few male couples of true lovers, but thousands of men and women conjoined together in wedlock, who have reciprocally and inviolably observed a community of affection and loyalty to the end of their lives. I shall instance only one example, which happened in our time, during the reign of Caesar Vespasian.

25. Julius, who was the first that occasioned the revolt in Galatia, among many other confederates in the rebellion had one Sabinus, a young gentleman of no mean spirit, and for fame and riches inferior to none. But having undertaken a very difficult enterprise, they miscarried; and therefore expecting nothing but death by the hand of justice, some of them killed themselves, others made their escapes as well as they could. As for Sabinus, he had all the opportunities that could be to save himself by flying to the barbarians; but he had married a lady, the best of women, which they called by the name of Empone, as much as to say a heroess. This woman it was not in his power to leave, neither could he carry her conveniently along with him. Having therefore in the country certain vaults or cellars under ground, where he had hid his treasures and movables of greatest value, which were only known to two of his freed bondmen, he dismissed all the rest of his servants, as if he had intended to poison himself. And taking along with him his two faithful and trusty servants, he hid himself in one of the vaults, and sent another of his enfranchised attendants, whose name was Martalius, to tell his wife that her husband had poisoned himself and that the house and his corpse were both burnt together, designing by the lamentation and unfeigned grief of his wife to make the report of his death the more easily believed; which fell out according to his wish. For the lady, so soon as she heard the news, threw herself upon the floor, and continued for three days together without meat or drink, making the most bitter outcries, and bewailing her loss with all the marks of a real and unfeigned anguish; which Sabinus understanding, and fearing her sorrow might prevail with her to lay violent hands upon herself, he ordered the same Martalius to tell her that he was yet alive and lay hid in such a place; however, that she should for a while continue her mourning, and be sure so to counterfeit her grief that she should not be discovered. And indeed in all other things the lady acted her part so well, and managed her passion to that degree, that no woman could do it better. But having still a longing desire to see her husband, she went to him in the night and returned again so privately that nobody took any notice of her. And thus she continued keeping him company for seven months together, that it might be said to differ very little from living in hell itself. Where after she had so strangely disguised Sabinus with a false head of hair, and such odd sort of habit, that it was impossible for him to be known, she carried him to Rome along with her undiscovered to several that met him. But not being able to obtain his pardon, she returned with him back to his den, and for many years lived with him under ground; only between whiles she went to the city, and there showed herself in public to several ladies, her friends and familiar acquaintance. But that which was the most incredible of all things, she so ordered her business that none of the ladies perceived her being with child, though she bathed at the same time with them. For such is the nature of that same ointment wherewith the women anoint their hair to make it of a red-golden color, that by its fatness and oiliness it plumps and swells up the flesh of the body, and brings it up to an embonpoint. So that the lady, no less liberal of her ointment than diligent to chafe and rub her body limb by limb, by the proportionable rising and swelling of her flesh in every part, concealed the swelling of her belly. And when she came to be delivered, she endured the pains of her child-bearing alone by herself, like a lioness, hiding herself in her den with her husband; and there, as I may say, she bred up in private her two male whelps. For at that time she was delivered of two boys, of which there was one who was slain in Egypt; the other, whose name was also Sabinus, was but very lately with us at Delphi.

For this reason Caesar put the lady to death; but dearly paid for the murder by the utter extirpation of his whole posterity, which in a short time after was utterly cut off from the face of the earth. For during his whole reign, there was not a more cruel and savage act committed; neither was there any other spectacle which in all probability the Gods and Daemons more detested, or any from which they more turned away their eyes in abomination of the sight. Besides, she abated the compassion of the spectators by the stoutness of her behavior and the grandeur of her utterance, than which there was nothing that more exasperated Vespasian; when, despairing of her husband’s pardon, she did as it were challenge the emperor to exchange her life for his, telling him withal, that she accounted it a far greater pleasure to live in darkness under ground as she had done, than to reign in splendor like him.

26. Here, as my father told me, ended the discourse concerning Love in the neighborhood of Thespiae; at what time they saw one of Pisias’s friends, by name Diogenes, coming at a good round pace towards them; to whom when Soclarus, while he was yet at a distance, cried out, No tidings of war, Diogenes, I hope? No, no, said he, that ne’er can be at a wedding; and therefore mend your pace, for the nuptial sacrifice stays only for your coming. All the rest of the company were exceeding glad, only Zeuxippus asked whether Pisias were still angry. On the contrary, said Diogenes, as he before opposed the match, so now he was the first to approve what Ismenodora had done; and at the same time, putting on a garland upon his head and throwing a white nuptial robe about his shoulders, he is to march before all the company through the market-place, to give thanks to the God of Love.

Well done, by Jupiter, come away, come away then, cried my father, that we may laugh and be merry with our friend, and adore the Deity. For there is no doubt that he is propitiously present with his favor and approbation.

FIVE TRAGICAL HISTORIES OF LOVE.

I.

In Haliartus, which is a city of Boeotia, lived a young damsel of surpassing beauty, whose name was Aristoclia, the daughter of Theophanes. This lady was courted by Straton an Orchomenian, and Callisthenes of Haliartus; but Straton was the more wealthy of the two, and more enamored of the virgin. For he had seen her bathing herself in the fountain of Hercyne, which is in Lebadea, against the time that she was to bear the sacred basket in honor of Jupiter the King. But the virgin herself had a greater affection for Callisthenes, for that he was more nearly allied to her. In this case, her father Theophanes, not knowing well what to do (for he was afraid of Straton, who had the advantage both of noble birth and riches above all the rest of the Boeotians), resolved to refer the choice to the oracle of Trophonius. On the other side, Straton (for he was made believe by some of the virgin’s familiar acquaintance that his mistress had the greatest kindness for him) earnestly desired to refer the matter to the election of the virgin herself. But when Theophanes put the question to his daughter in a great assembly of all the friends of all parties, it fell out that the damsel preferred Callisthenes. Thereupon it presently appeared in Straton’s countenance how much he was disgusted at the indignity he had received. However, two days after, he came to Theophanes and Callisthenes, requesting the continuance of their friendship, notwithstanding that some Daemon had envied him the happiness of his intended marriage. They so well approved his proposal, that they invited him to the wedding and the nuptial feast. But he in the mean time having mustered together a great number of his friends, together with a numerous troop of his own servants, whom he secretly dispersed and disposed up and down in places proper for his purpose, watched his opportunity so well that, as the damsel was going down, according to the custom of the country, to the fountain called Cissoessa, there to pay her offerings to the Nymphs before her wedding-day, he and his accomplices rushing out of their ambuscade seized upon the virgin, whom Straton held fast and pulled to himself. On the other side, Callisthenes, with those that were about him, as it is easy to be believed, flew with all speed to her relief; and in this fatal contest, while the one tugged and the other hauled, the unhappy damsel perished. As for Callisthenes, he was never seen any more; whether he laid violent hands upon himself, or whether it were that he left Boeotia as a voluntary exile; for no man could give any account of him afterwards. And as for Straton, he slew himself before the eyes of all upon the dead body of the unfortunate virgin.

II.

A certain great person whose name was Phido, designing to make himself lord of the whole Peloponnesus, and more especially desirous that Argos, being his native country, should be the metropolis of all the rest, resolved to reduce the Corinthians under his subjection. To this purpose he sent to them to demand a levy of a thousand young gentlemen, the most valiant and the chiefest in the prime of their age in the whole city. Accordingly they sent him a thousand young sparks, brisk and gallant, under the leading of Dexander, whom they chose to be their captain. But Phido, designing nothing more than the massacre of these gentlemen, to the end he might the more easily make himself master of Corinth when it should be enfeebled by so great a loss (as being by its situation the chief bulwark to guard the entrance into Peloponnesus), imparted this contrivance of his to several of his confidants, in which number was one whose name was Abro; who, having been formerly acquainted with Dexander, and familiarly entertained by him, discovered the whole conspiracy to his friend in acknowledgment of his kindness. By which means the thousand, before they fell into the ambuscade, retreated and got safe to Corinth. Phido thus disappointed made all the inquiry imaginable, to find out who it was that had betrayed and discovered his design. Which Abro understanding fled to Corinth with his wife and all his family, and settled himself in Melissus, a certain village in the territory of the Corinthians. There he begat a son, whom he named Melissus from the name of the place where he was born. The son of this Melissus was Actaeon, the loveliest and most modest of all the striplings of his age. For which reason there were several that fell in love with him, but none with so much ardor as Archias, being of the race of the Heraclidae, and for wealth and authority the greatest person in all Corinth. This Archias, when he found that no fair means and persuasions would prevail upon the young lad, resolved to ravish him away by force; to which purpose he invited himself to Melissus’s house, as it were to make merry, accompanied with a great number of his friends and servants, and by their assistance he made an attempt to carry away the son by violence. But the father and his friends opposing the rape, and the neighbors coming in to the rescue of the child, poor Actaeon, between the one and the other, was pulled and hauled to death; and Archias with his company departed. Upon this, Melissus carried the murdered body of his son into the market-place of Corinth, and there, exposing him to public view, demanded justice to be done upon the murderers. But finding that the Corinthians only pitied his condition, without taking any farther notice of the matter, he returned home, and waited for the grand assembly of the Greeks at the Isthmus. At what time, getting up to the very top of Neptune’s temple, he exclaimed against the whole race of the Bacchiadae, and after he had made a public relation of the good service which his father Abro had done the Corinthians, he invoked the vengeance of the Gods, and presently threw himself headlong among the rocks. Soon after the Corinthians being plagued with a most terrible drought, upon which ensued a violent famine, they sent to the oracle, to know by what means they might be delivered from their calamity. To whom the Deity made answer, that it was Neptune’s wrath, which would not cease till they had revenged the death of Actaeon. Archias, hearing this (for he was one of those that were sent to the oracle), never returned again to Corinth, but sailing into Sicily, built there the city of Syracuse; where, after he was become the father of two daughters, Ortygia and Syracusa, he was treacherously slain by Telephus, whom he had preternaturally abused in his youth, and who, having the command of a ship, sailed along with him into Sicily.

III.

A certain poor man, Scedasus by name, lived at Leuctra, a small village in the territory of the Thespians, and had two daughters, Hippo and Miletia, or as others say, Theano and Euxippe. This Scedasus was a very good man, and, to the extent of his fortune, very hospitable to strangers. This was the reason that most readily and gladly he entertained two young gentlemen of Sparta, that came to lodge at his house; who, falling in love with the virgins, were yet so overawed by the kindness that Scedasus had showed them, that they durst not make any rude attempt for that time. The next morning therefore they went directly to the city of Delphi, whither they were journeying, where after they had consulted the oracle touching such questions as they had to put, they returned homeward, and travelling through Boeotia, stopped again at Scedasus’s house, who happened at that time not to be at Leuctra. However, his daughters, according to that education to which their father had accustomed them, gave the same entertainment to the strangers as if their father had been at home. But such was the perfidious ingratitude of these guests, that finding the virgins alone, they ravished and by force deflowered the damsels; and, which was worse, perceiving them lamenting to excess the undeserved injury they had received, the ravishers murdered them, and after they had thrown their bodies into a well, went their ways. Soon after Scedasus, returning home, missed both his daughters, but all things else he found safe and in order, as he left them; which put him into such a quandary, that he knew not what to say or do, till instructed by a little bitch, that several times in a day came whining and fawning upon him and then returned to the well, he began to suspect what he found to be true; and so he drew up the dead bodies of his daughters. Moreover, being then informed by his neighbors, that they had seen the two Lacedaemonian gentlemen which he had entertained some time before go into his house, he guessed them to be the persons who had committed the fact, for that they would be always praising the virgins when they lodged there before, and telling their father what happy men they would be that should have the good fortune to marry them. Thereupon away he went to Lacedaemon, with a resolution to make his complaint to the Ephori; but being benighted in the territory of Argos, he put into a public house, where he found another old man of the city of Oreus, in the province of Histiaea; whom when he heard sighing and cursing the Lacedaemonians, Scedasus asked him what injury the Lacedaemonians had done him. In answer to which, the old man gave him this account: I am, said he, a subject to the Lacedaemonians, by whom Aristodemus was sent to Oreus to be governor of that place, where he committed several outrages and savage enormities. Among the rest, being fallen in love with my son, when he could by no fair means procure his consent, he endeavored to carry him away by main force out of the wrestling-place. But the president of the exercises opposing him, with the assistance of several of the young men, Aristodemus was constrained to retire; but the next day, having provided a galley to be in readiness, he ravished away my son, and sailing from Oreus to the opposite continent, endeavored, when he had the boy there, to abuse his body; and because the lad refused to submit to his lust, cut the child’s throat. Upon his return he made a great feast at Oreus, to which he invited all his friends. In the mean while, I being soon informed of the sad accident, presently went and interred the body; and having so done, I made haste to Sparta, and preferred my complain to the Ephori, but they gave no answer, nor took any notice of the matter.

Scedasus, having heard this relation, remained very much dejected, believing he should have no better success. However, in his turn, he gave an account to the stranger of his own sad mischance; which when he had done, the stranger advised him not to complain to the Ephori, but to return to his own country, and erect a monument for his two daughters. But Scedasus, not liking this advice, went to Sparta, made his case known to the Ephori, and demanded justice; who taking no notice of his complaint, away he went to the Kings; but they as little regarding him, he applied himself to every particular citizen, and recommended to them the sadness of his condition. At length, when he saw nothing would do, he ran through the city, stretching forth his hands to the sun and stamping on the ground with his feet, and called upon the Furies to revenge his cause; and when he had done all he could, in the last place slew himself. But afterwards the Lacedaemonians dearly paid for their injustice. For being at that time lords of all Greece, while all the chiefest cities of that spacious region were curbed by their garrisons, Epaminondas the Theban was the first that threw off their yoke, and cut the throats of the garrison that lay in Thebes. Upon which, the Lacedaemonians making war upon the revolters, the Thebans met them at Leuctra, confident of success from the name of the place; for that formerly they had been there delivered from slavery, at what time Amphictyon, being driven into exile by Sthenelus, came to the city of Thebes, and finding them tributaries to the Chalcidians, after he had slain Chalcodon king of the Euboeans, eased them altogether of that burthen. In like manner it happened that the Lacedaemonians were vanquished not far from the monument of Scedasus’s daughters. It is reported also, that before the fight, Pelopidas being then one of the Theban generals, and troubled by reason of some certain signs that seemed to portend some ill event in the battle, Scedasus appeared to him in a dream and bade him be of good courage, for that the Lacedaemonians were come to Leuctra, to receive the just vengeance which they deserved from him and his daughters; only the ghost advised him, the day before he encountered the Lacedaemonians, to sacrifice a white colt, which he should find ready for him close by his daughters’ sepulchre. Whereupon Pelopidas, while the Lacedaemonians yet lay encamped at Tegea, sent certain persons to examine the truth of the matter; and finding by the inhabitants thereabouts that every thing agreed with his dream, he advanced with his army boldly forward, and won the field.

IV.

Phocus was a Boeotian by birth (for he was born in the city of Clisas), the father of Callirrhoe, who was a virgin of matchless beauty and modesty, and courted by thirty young gentlemen, the prime of the Boeotian nobility. Phocus therefore, seeing so many suitors about her, still pretended one excuse or other to put off her marriage, afraid lest some force or other should be put upon her. At length, when he could hold out no longer, the gentlemen being offended at his dilatory answers, he desired them to refer it to the Pythian Deity to make the choice. But this the gentlemen took so heinously, that they fell upon Phocus and slew him. In this combustion and tumult, the virgin making her escape fled into the country, and was as soon pursued by the young sparks; but lighting upon certain country people that were piling up their wheat in a barn, by their assistance she saved herself. For the countrymen hid her in the corn, so that they who were in chase of her passed her by. The virgin thus preserved kept herself close till the general assembly of all the Boeotians; and then coming to Coronea, she there sat as a suppliant before the altar of Itonian Minerva, and there gave a full relation of the villany and murder committed by her several suitors discovering withal the names of the persons, and places of their abode. The Boeotians commiserating the virgin were no less incensed against the young gentlemen; who, having notice of what had passed, fled to Orchomenus, but being shut out by the citizens, made their escape to Hippotae, a village near to Helicon, seated between Thebes and Coronea, where they were received and protected. Thither the Thebans sent to have the murderers of Phocus delivered up; which the inhabitants refusing to do, they marched against the town with a good force of other Boeotians under the leading of Phoedus, then the chief ruler of Thebes. And laying siege to it (for it was a strong place), at last they took it for want of water; and in the first place having apprehended all the murderers, they stoned them to death; then they condemned the inhabitants to perpetual slavery, broke down the walls, ruined the houses, and divided the land between the Thebans and Coroneans. The report goes, that the night before Hippotae was taken, there was a voice heard from Helicon several times uttering these words, I am come; and that when the thirty rivals heard it, they knew it to be the voice of Phocus. It was said, moreover, that the very day the rivals were stoned, the monument of the old man which was erected in Clisas was covered with drops of saffron. And as Phoedus, the governor and general of the Thebans, was upon his march homeward from the siege, news was brought him that his wife had brought him a daughter, which for the good omen’s sake he called by the name of Nicostrate.

V.

Alcippus was a Lacedaemonian by birth, who marrying Damocrita became the father of two daughters. This Alcippus, being a person that always advised the city for the best, and one that was always ready to serve his countrymen upon all occasions, was envied by a contrary faction, that continually accused him to the Ephori as one that endeavored to subvert the ancient laws and constitutions of the city. At length the Ephori banished the husband, who being condemned forsook the city; but when Damocrita and his daughters would fain have followed him, they would not permit them to stir. Moreover, they confiscated his estate, to deprive his daughters of their portions. Nay, more than this, when there were some that courted the daughters for the sake of their father’s virtue, his enemies obtained a decree whereby it was forbid that any man should make love to the young ladies, cunningly alleging that the mother had often prayed to the Gods to favor her daughters with speedy wedlock, to the end they might the sooner bring forth children to be revenged of the injury done their father. Damocrita thus beset, and in a strait on every side, stayed till the general festival, when the women, together with their daughters, servants, and little children, feast in public together; on which day, the wives of the magistrates and persons in dignity feast all night in a spacious hall by themselves. But then it was that Damocrita, with a sword girt about her, and taking her daughters with her, went in the night-time to the temple; and watching her opportunity, when the women were all busy in the great hall performing the mysteries of the solemnity, after all the ways and passages were stopped up, she fetched the wood that was ready prepared for the sacrifices appertaining to the festival, and piled it against the doors of the room, and so set fire to it. All was then in a hurry, and the men came crowding in vain to help their wives; but then it was that Damocrita slew her daughters, and upon their dead bodies herself. Thus the Lacedaemonians, not knowing upon whom to wreak their anger, were forced to be contented with only throwing the dead bodies of the mother and the daughters without the confines of their territories. For which barbarous act of theirs, the Deity being highly offended plagued the Lacedaemonians, as their histories record, with that most dreadful earthquake, so remarkable to posterity.

A DISCOURSE TO AN UNLEARNED PRINCE

1. Plato, being desired by the Cyreneans to prescribe to them good laws and to settle their government, refused to do it, saying that it was a hard matter to give them any law whilst they enjoyed so much prosperity, since nothing is so fierce, arrogant, and untamable, as a man that thinks himself to be in a happy condition. Wherefore it is very difficult to give counsel to princes in matters of government; for they fear to receive advice as a thing seeming to command them, lest the force of reason should seem to lessen their power, by obliging it to submit to truth. And they consider not the saying of Theopompus, king of Sparta, who, being the first in that country that joined the Ephori with the Kings, was reproached by his wife, because by this means he would leave the kingdom to his children less than he found it; to whom he replied, that he should render it so much the greater, the firmer it was. For, by holding the reins of government somewhat loose, he avoided envy and danger; nevertheless, since he permitted the stream of his power to flow so freely into other channels, what he gave to them must needs be a loss to himself. Though philosophy possessing a prince as his assistant and keeper, by taking away the dangerous part of fulness of power (as if it were fulness of body), leaves the sound part.

2. But many kings and princes foolishly imitate those unskilful statuaries who think to make their images look great and fierce if they make them much straddling, with distended arms, and open mouth. After the same manner they, by the grave tone of their voice, stern countenance, morose behavior, and living apart from all society, would affect a kind of majestic grandeur, not unlike those statues that without seem to be of an heroic and divine form, but within are filled with nothing but earth, stone and lead;—with this only difference, that the weight of these massy bodies renders them stable and unmovable; whereas unlearned princes, by their internal ignorance, are often shaken and overthrown, and in regard they do not build their power on a true basis and foundation, they fall together with it. For, as it is necessary at first that the rule itself should be right and straight, before those things that are applied to it can be rectified and made like unto it; so a potentate ought in the first place to learn how to govern his own passions and to endue his mind with a tincture of princely virtues, and afterwards to make his subjects conformable to his example. For it is not the property of one that is ready to fall himself to hinder another from tripping, nor of one that is rude and illiterate to instruct the ignorant; neither can a person govern that is under no government. But most men, being deceived by a false opinion, esteem it the chiefest good in ruling to be subject to no authority; and thus the Persian king accounted all his servants and slaves except his wife, whose master he ought more especially to have been.

3. Who then shall have power to govern a prince? The law, without doubt; which (as Pindar saith) is the king of mortal and immortal beings; which is not written without in books nor engraven on wood or stone, but is a clear reason imprinted in the heart, always residing and watching therein, and never suffering the mind to be without government. The king of Persia indeed commanded one of his lords that lay in the same chamber to attend him every morning, and to sound these words in his ears: Arise, O king! and take care of those affairs and duties that Oromasdes requires of thee. But a wise and prudent prince hath such a monitor within his breast as always prompts and admonishes him to the same effect. It was a saying of Polemon, that Love was the minister of the Gods, appointed to take care of the education of youth; but it might be more truly affirmed, that princes are the administrators of the divine power, for the safety and protection of mankind, to distribute part of those goods that God bestows on men, and to reserve part for themselves.

Dost thou behold the vast and azure sky, How in its liquid arms the earth doth lie?[115]

The air indeed disperses the first principles of convenient seeds, but the earth causeth them to spring forth; some grow and thrive by the means of moderate and refreshing showers, some delight in gentle breezes of wind, and some are cherished by the influences of the moon and stars; but it is the sun that perfects and beautifies all, inspiring them with the principle of mutual sympathy and love. Nevertheless, all these so many and so great benefits, that are the effects of the divine munificence and liberality, cannot be enjoyed or duly made use of, without a law, justice, and a prince; for justice is the end of the law, the law is the prince’s work, and the prince is the image of God, that disposeth all things. He doth not stand in need of a Phidias, a Polycletus, or a Myro; but by the practice of virtue makes himself most like the divine nature, and becomes a most delectable object to God and man. For as God hath placed the sun and moon in heaven, as manifest tokens of his power and glory, so the majesty of a prince is resplendent on earth, as he is his representative and vicegerent,

Who doth like God most righteous laws dispense.[116]

I mean such a one as believes that the likeness of God is found in wisdom and understanding, not in the sceptre, the thunder-bolt, or the trident, with which symbols of Deity some have vainly caused themselves to be carved or painted, thereby exposing their egregious folly to the world, in affecting that which they are not able to attain to. For God cannot but be incensed against those that presume to imitate him in producing thunder, lightnings, and sunbeams; but if any strive to emulate his goodness and mercy, being well pleased with their endeavors, he will assist them, and will endue them with his order, justice, truth, and gentleness, than which nothing can be more sacred and pure,—not fire, not light, nor the course of the sun, not the rising and setting of the stars, nor even eternity and immortality itself. For God is not only happy by reason of the duration of his being, but because of the excellency of his virtue; this is properly divine and transcendent, and that is also good which is governed by it.

4. Anaxarchus endeavoring to comfort Alexander, who was very much afflicted for the murder he had committed on the person of Clitus, told him, that justice and right sat as assistants by the throne of Jupiter, so that whatsoever was done by a king might be accounted lawful and just; but by this means he indiscreetly prevented his repentance, and encouraged him to attempt the committing the like crimes again. But if we may be permitted to guess at these matters, Jupiter hath not Justice for an assessor or counsellor, but is himself Justice and Right, and the original and perfection of all laws. Therefore the ancients devised and taught these things, that they might thereby show that even Jupiter himself could not rule well without Justice; for she is (according to Hesiod) a pure and undefiled virgin, and the companion of Modesty, Reverence, Chastity, and Simplicity; hence kings are called “reverent,” for they ought to be most reverent who fear least. But a prince ought to be more afraid of doing than of suffering ill; for the former is the cause of the other; and this is a noble and generous sort of fear, well becoming a prince, to be solicitous lest any harm should befall his subjects unawares:

As faithful dogs, surprised with sudden fear, When once they see the savage beasts appear, Not of themselves, but of their flocks take care.[117]

Epaminondas, when on a certain festival day the Thebans gave themselves up wholly to drinking and carousing, went about alone and viewed the arsenal and the walls of the city, saying, that he was sober and vigilant that others might have liberty to be drunk and to sleep. And Cato at Utica, when he had called together by proclamation all his soldiers that had escaped the slaughter to the sea-side, caused them to embark in ships; and having prayed for their prosperous voyage, returned home and killed himself, leaving an example to princes, whom they ought to fear and what they ought to contemn. On the other hand, Clearchus, king of Pontus, creeping into a chest, slept therein like a snake. And Aristodemus lay with his concubine in a bed placed in an upper room over a trap-door, her mother removing the ladder as soon as they were got up, and bringing it again in the morning. How then, think you, did he fear to be seen in the theatre, in the judgment-hall, in the court, or at a feast, who had turned his bed-chamber into a prison? For indeed good princes are possessed with fear for their subjects, but tyrants with fear of them; insomuch that their timorousness increaseth with their power, since the more people they have under their dominion, so much the more objects they see of dread and terror.

5. Neither is it probable or convenient (as some philosophers affirm) that God should be mingled together with matter that is altogether passive, and with things obnoxious to innumerable necessities, chances, and mutations; but to us he seems to be placed somewhere above with the eternal nature that always operates after the same manner; and proceeding (as Plato saith) on sacred foundations, according to nature, he brings his works to perfection. And as he hath placed the sun in the firmament, as a clear image of his most sacred and glorious essence, in which, as in a mirror, he exhibits himself to the contemplation of wise men; so in like manner, the splendor of justice that appears in some cities is a kind of representation of the divine wisdom, which happy and prudent persons describe by the help of philosophy, conforming themselves to those things which are of a most sublime and excellent nature. It is certain that this disposition of mind cannot be attained but by the doctrine of philosophy; otherwise we shall lie under the same circumstances as Alexander, who seeing Diogenes at Corinth, and being astonished at his ingenuity and majestic gravity, let fall this expression If I were not Alexander, I would choose to be Diogenes. For being almost oppressed with the weight of his own grandeur and power, which are the impediments of virtue and ease, he seemed to envy the happiness of a threadbare cloak and pouch, with which the Cynic rendered himself as invincible as he could be with all his armor, horses, and pikes. However, he had an opportunity to philosophize and to become Diogenes in his mind, though he remained Alexander in his outward state and condition, and he might more easily be Diogenes, because he was Alexander; forasmuch as to keep the vessel of his prosperous fortune steady, which was tossed with the winds and waves, he stood in need of a good quantity of ballast and of a skilful pilot.

6. Amongst, the mean and inferior sort of people, folly mingled with weakness is destitute of an ability to do mischief; and the mind is vexed and distracted by it, as a distempered brain is with troublesome dreams, insomuch that it hath not strength enough to execute what it desires. But power joined with a corrupt and depraved inclination adds the fuel of madness to the fire of the passions. So true is that saying of Dionysius, who declared, that he then chiefly enjoyed his authority, when he speedily performed what he designed. But herein lies the greatest danger, lest he that is able to do all things that he desires should desire those things that he ought not.

The word’s no sooner said, but th’ act is done.[118]

Vice, being furnished with wheels by power, sets all the faculties of the soul in a violent fermentation; of anger it makes murder, of love adultery, and of covetousness the confiscation of other men’s goods.

The word’s no sooner said,—

but the offender is executed; a suspicion arises,—the accused person is put to death. And as naturalists affirm, that the lightning breaks forth after the thunder as the blood follows the wound, but is seen first, since whilst the ear expects the sound the eye discerns the light; so under some governments the punishments precede the accusation, and the condemnation prevents the proving of the crime. Under such circumstances,

No human soul such license can withstand,— As anchors strive in vain to hold in sand,

unless this exorbitant power be restrained and kept within its due bounds by the force of sound reason. Therefore a prince ought to imitate the sun, which being come to its greatest height in the northern signs, moves slowest, whereby he renders his course the more safe.

7. For it is not possible that the vices and faults of persons in authority can be concealed in obscurity. But as people that are troubled with the falling-sickness, if they walk about in a high place, are seized with a giddiness in the head and a dimness in the sight, which are the usual symptoms of that disease; so Fortune, when she hath a little exalted illiterate and foolish men with riches, glory, or authority, suddenly hastens their ruin. And as amongst empty vessels it cannot easily be discerned which are whole and which are leaky, but by the pouring in of any liquor; so corrupt and exulcerated minds, after the infusion of power, are not able to contain it, but immediately overflow with concupiscence, anger, arrogance, and folly. And what need is there of mentioning these particulars, since the least faults and miscarriages of renowned and famous men lie under the lash of slander and calumny? Cimon was accused for being too much addicted to the drinking of wine, Scipio was blamed for delighting in immoderate sleep, and Lucullus for making too liberal and costly entertainments....

OF HERODOTUS’S MALICE.

1. The style, O Alexander, of Herodotus, as being simple, free, and easily suiting itself to its subject, has deceived many; but more, a persuasion of his dispositions being equally sincere. For it is not only (as Plato says) an extreme injustice, to make a show of being just when one is not so; but it is also the highest malignity, to pretend to simplicity and mildness and be in the mean time really most malicious. Now since he principally exerts his malice against the Boeotians and Corinthians, though without sparing any other, I think myself obliged to defend our ancestors and the truth against this part of his writings, since those who would detect all his other lies and fictions would have need of many books. But, as Sophocles has it, the face of persuasion is prevalent, especially when delivered in good language, and such as has power to conceal both the other absurdities and the ill-nature of the writer. King Philip told the Greeks who revolted from him to Titus Quinctius, that they had got a more polished, but a longer-lasting yoke. So the malice of Herodotus is indeed more polite and delicate than that of Theopompus, yet it pinches closer, and makes a more severe impression,—not unlike to those winds which, blowing secretly through narrow chinks, are sharper than those that are more diffused. Now it seems to me very convenient to delineate, as it were, in a rough draught, those signs and marks that distinguish a malicious narration from a candid and unbiassed one, applying afterwards every point we shall examine to such as appertain to them.

2. First then, whoever in relating a story shall use the most odious terms when gentler expressions might do as well, is not to be esteemed impartial, but an enjoyer of his own fancy, in putting the worst construction on things; as if any one, instead of saying Nicias is too much given to superstition, should call him fanatic, or should accuse Cleon of presumption and madness rather than of inconsiderateness in speech.

3. Secondly, when a writer, catching hold of a fault which has no reference to his story, shall draw it into the relation of such affairs as need it not, extending his narrative with circumlocutions, only that he may insert a man’s misfortune, offence, or discommendable action, it is manifest that he delights in speaking evil. Therefore Thucydides would not clearly relate the faults of Cleon, which were very numerous; and as for Hyperbolus the orator, having touched at him in a word and called him an ill man, he let him go. Philistus also passed over all those outrages committed by Dionysius on the barbarians which had no connection with the Grecian affairs. For the excursions and digressions of history are principally allowed for fables and antiquities, and sometimes also for encomiums. But he who makes reproaches and detractions an addition to his discourse seems to incur the tragedian’s curse on the “collector of men’s calamities.”

4. Now the opposite to this is known to every one, as the omitting to relate some good and laudable action, which, though it may seem not to be reprehensible, yet is then done maliciously when the omission happens in a place that is pertinent to the history. For to praise unwillingly is so far from being more civil than to dispraise willingly, that it is perhaps rather more uncivil.

5. The fourth sign of a partial disposition in writing of history I take to be this: When a matter is related in two or more several manners, and the historian shall embrace the worst. Sophisters indeed are permitted, for the obtaining either of profit or reputation, to undertake the defence of the worst cause; for they neither create any firm belief of the matter, nor yet do they deny that they are often pleased in maintaining paradoxes and making incredible things appear probable. But an historian is then just, when he asserts such things as he knows to be true, and of those that are uncertain reports rather the better than the worse. Nay, there are many writers who wholly omit the worse. Thus Ephorus writes of Themistocles, that he was acquainted with the treason of Pausanias and his negotiations with the King’s lieutenants, but that he neither consented to it, nor hearkened to Pausanias’s proffers of making him partaker of his hopes; and Thucydides left the whole matter out of his story, as judging it to be false.

6. Moreover, in things confessed to have been done, but for doing which the cause and intention is unknown, he who casts his conjectures on the worst side is partial and malicious. Thus do the comedians, who affirm the Peloponnesian war to have been kindled by Pericles for the love of Aspasia or the sake of Phidias, and not through any desire of honor, or ambition of pulling down the Peloponnesian pride and giving place in nothing to the Lacedaemonians. For those who suppose a bad cause for laudable works and commendable actions, endeavoring by calumnies to insinuate sinister suspicions of the actor when they cannot openly discommend the act,—as they that impute the killing of Alexander the tyrant by Theba not to any magnanimity or hatred of vice, but to a certain feminine jealousy and passion, and those that say Cato slew himself for fear Caesar should put him to a more shameful death,—such as these are manifestly in the highest degree envious and malicious.

7. An historical narration is also more or less guilty of malice, according as it relates the manner of the action; as if one should be said to have performed an exploit rather by money than valor, as some affirm of Philip; or else easily and without any labor, as it is said of Alexander; or else not by prudence, but by Fortune, as the enemies of Timotheus painted cities falling into his nets as he lay sleeping. For they undoubtedly diminish the greatness and beauty of the actions, who deny the performers of them to have done them generously, industriously, virtuously, and by themselves.

8. Moreover, those who will directly speak ill of any one incur the reproach of moroseness, rashness, and madness, unless they keep within measure. But they who send forth calumnies obliquely, as if they were shooting arrows out of corners, and then stepping back think to conceal themselves by saying they do not believe what they most earnestly desire to have believed, whilst they disclaim all malice, condemn themselves also of farther disingenuity.

9. Next to these are they who with their reproaches intermix some praises, as did Aristoxenus, who, having termed Socrates unlearned, ignorant, and libidinous, added, Yet was he free from injustice. For, as they who flatter artificially and craftily sometimes mingle light reprehensions with their many and great praises, joining this liberty of speech as a sauce to their flattery; so malice, that it may gain belief to its accusations, adds also praise.

10. We might here also reckon up more notes; but these are sufficient to let us understand the nature and manners of Herodotus.

11. First therefore,—beginning, as the proverb is, with Vesta,—whereas all the Grecians affirm Io, daughter to Inachus, to have been worshipped with divine honor by the barbarians, and by her glory to have left her name to many seas and principal passages, and to have given a source and original to most noble and royal families; this famous author says of her, that she gave herself to certain Phoenician merchants, having been not unwillingly deflowered by a mariner, and fearing lest she should be found by her friends to be with child.[119] And he belies the Phoenicians as having delivered these things of her, and says that the Persian stories testify of her being carried away by the Phoenicians with other women.[120] Presently after, he gives sentence on the bravest and greatest exploits of Greece, saying that the Trojan war was foolishly undertaken for an ill woman. For it is manifest, says he, that had they not been willing they had never been ravished.[121] Let us then say, that the Gods also acted foolishly, in inflicting their indignation on the Spartans for abusing the daughters of Scedasus the Leuctrian, and in punishing Ajax for the violation of Cassandra. For it is manifest, if we believe Herodotus, that if they had not been willing they had never been defiled. And yet he himself said that Aristomenes was taken alive by the Spartans; and the same afterwards happened to Philopoemen, commander of the Achaeans; and the Carthaginians took Regulus, the consul of the Romans; than whom there are not easily to be found more valiant and warlike men. Nor is it to be wondered, since even leopards and tigers are taken alive by men. But Herodotus blames the poor women that have been abused by violence, and patronizes their ravishers.

12. Nay, he is so favorable to the barbarians, that, acquitting Busiris of those human sacrifices and that slaughter of his guests for which he is accused, and attributing by his testimony to the Egyptians much religion and justice, he endeavors to cast that abominable wickedness and those impious murders on the Grecians. For in his Second Book he says, that Menelaus, having received Helen from Proteus and having been honored by him with many presents, showed himself a most unjust and wicked man; for wanting a fair wind to set sail, he found out an impious device, and having taken two of the inhabitants’ boys, consulted their entrails; for which villany being hated and persecuted, he fled with his ships directly into Libya.[122] From what Egyptian this story proceeds, I know not. For, on the contrary, many honors are even at this day given by the Egyptians both to Helen and Menelaus.

13. The same Herodotus, that he may still be like himself, says that the Persians learned the defiling of the male sex from the Greeks.[123] And yet how could the Greeks have taught this impurity to the Persians, amongst whom, as is confessed by almost all, boys had been castrated before ever they arrived in the Grecian seas? He writes also, that the Greeks were instructed by the Egyptians in their pomps, solemn festivals, and worship of the twelve Gods; that Melampus also learned of the Egyptians the name of Dionysus (or Bacchus) and taught it the other Greeks; that the mysteries likewise and rites of Ceres were brought out of Egypt by the daughters of Danaus; and that the Egyptians were wont to beat themselves and make great lamentation, but yet he himself would not tell the names of their Deities, but concealed them in silence. As to Hercules and Bacchus, whom the Egyptians named Gods, and the Greeks very aged men, he nowhere feels such scruples and hesitation; although he places also the Egyptian Hercules amongst the Gods of the second rank, and Bacchus amongst those of the third, as having had some beginning of their being and not being eternal, and yet he pronounces those to be Gods; but to the Greek Bacchus and Hercules, as having been mortal and being now demi gods, he thinks we ought to perform anniversary solemnities, but not to sacrifice to them as to Gods. The same also he said of Pan, overthrowing the most venerable and purest sacrifices of the Greeks by the proud vanities and mythologies of the Egyptians.[124]

14. Nor is this impious enough; but moreover, deriving the pedigree of Hercules from Perseus, he says that Perseus was an Assyrian, as the Persians affirm. “But the leaders,” says he, “of the Dorians may appear to be descended in a right line from the Egyptians, reckoning their ancestors from before Danae and Acrisius.”[125] Here he has wholly passed by Epaphus, Io, Iasus, and Argus, being ambitious not only to make the other Herculeses Egyptians and Phoenicians, but to carry this also, whom himself affirms to have been the third, out of Greece to the barbarians. But of the ancient learned writers, neither Homer, nor Hesiod, or Archilochus, nor Pisander, nor Stesichorus, nor Alcman, nor Pindar, makes any mention of the Egyptian or the Phoenician Hercules, but all acknowledge this our own Boeotian and Argive Hercules.

15. Now of the seven sages, whom he calls Sophisters, he affirms Thales to have been a barbarian, descended of the Phoenicians.[126] Speaking ill also of the Gods under the person of Solon, he has these words: “Thou, O Croesus, askest me concerning human affairs, who know that every one of the Deities is envious and tumultuous.”[127] Thus attributing to Solon what himself thinks of the Gods, he joins malice to blasphemy. Having made use also of Pittacus in some trivial matters, not worth the mentioning, he has passed over the greatest and gallantest action that was ever done by him. For when the Athenians and Mitylenaeans were at war about Sigaeum, Phrynon, the Athenian general, challenging whoever would come forth to a single combat, Pittacus advanced to meet him, and catching him in a net, slew that stout and giant-like man; for which when the Mitylenaeans offered him great presents, darting his javelin as far as he could out of his hand, he desired only so much ground as he should reach with that throw; and the place is to this day called Pittacium. Now what does Herodotus, when he comes to this? Instead of Pittacus’s valiant act, he tells us the fight of Alcaeus the poet, who throwing away his arms ran out of the battle; by thus not writing of honorable deeds and not passing over such as are dishonorable, he gives his testimony to those who say, that from one and the same malice proceed both envy and a rejoicing at other men’s harms.[128]

16. After this, he accuses of treason the Alcmaeonidae, who showed themselves generous men, and delivered their country from tyranny.[129] He says, that they received Pisistratus after his banishment and got him called home, on condition he should marry the daughter of Megacles; but the damsel saying to her mother, Do you see, mother, how I am not known by Pisistratus according to nature? the Alcmaeonidae were so offended at this villany, that they expelled the tyrant.

17. Now that the Lacedaemonians might have no less share of his malice than the Athenians, behold how he bespatters Othryadas, the man most admired and honored by them. “He only,” says Herodotus, “remaining alive of the three hundred, and ashamed to return to Sparta, his companions being lost, slew himself on the spot at Thyreae.”[130] For having before said the victory was doubtful on both sides, he here, by making Othryadas ashamed, witnesses that the Lacedaemonians were vanquished. For it was shameful for him to survive, if conquered; but glorious, if conqueror.

18. I pass by now, that having represented Croesus as foolish, vainglorious, and ridiculous in all things, he makes him, when a prisoner, to have taught and instructed Cyrus, who seems to have excelled all other kings in prudence, virtue, and magnanimity.[131] Having testified of the same Croesus nothing else that was commendable, but his honoring the Gods with many and great oblations, he shows that very act of his to have been the most impious of all. For he says, that he and his brother Pantoleon contended for the kingdom while their father was yet alive; and that Croesus, having obtained the crown, caused a companion and familiar friend of Pantoleon’s to be torn in pieces in a fulling-mill, and sent presents to the Gods from his estate.[132] Of Deïoces also, the Median, who by virtue and justice obtained the government, he says that he got it not by real but pretended justice.[133]

19. But I let pass the barbarian examples, since he has offered us plenty enough in the Grecian affairs. He says, that the Athenians and most other Ionians were so ashamed of that name that they wholly refused to be called Ionians; and that those who esteemed themselves the noblest among them, and who had set forth from the very Prytaneum of Athens, begat children on barbarian wives whose parents, husbands, and former children they had slain; that the women had therefore made a law among themselves, confirmed it by oath, and delivered it to be kept by their daughters, never to eat with their husbands, nor to call any of them by his name; and that the present Milesians are descended from these women. Having afterwards added that those are true Ionians who celebrate the feast called Apaturia; they all, says he, keep it except the Ephesians and Colophonians.[134] In this manner does he deprive these two states of their nobility.

20. He says moreover, that the Cumaeans and Mitylenaeans agreed with Cyrus to deliver up to him for a price Pactyas, who had revolted from him. I know not indeed, says he, for how much; since it is not certain what it was. Well done!—not to know what it was, and yet to cast such an infamy on a Grecian city, as if he had an assured knowledge! He says farther, that the Chians took Pactyas, who was brought to them out of the temple of Minerva Poliuchus (or Guardianess of the city), and delivered him up, having received the city Atarneus for their recompense. And yet Charon the Lampsacenian, a more ancient writer, relating this matter concerning Pactyas, charges neither the Mitylenaeans nor the Chians with any such impious action. These are his very words: “Pactyas, hearing that the Persian army drew near, fled first to Mitylene, then to Chios, and there fell into the hands of Cyrus.”[135]

BOOK IX. (part 11)

21. Our author in his Third Book, relating the expedition of the Lacedaemonians against the tyrant Polycrates, affirms, that the Samians think and say that the Spartans, to recompense them for their former assistance against the Messenians, both brought back the Samians that were banished, and made war on the tyrant; but that the Lacedaemonians deny this, and say, they undertook this design not to help or deliver the Samians, but to punish them for having taken away a cup sent by them to Croesus, and besides, a breastplate sent them by Amasis.[136] And yet we know that there was not at that time any city so desirous of honor, or such an enemy to tyrants, as Sparta. For what breastplate or cup was the cause of their driving the Cypselidae out of Corinth and Ambracia, Lygdamis out of Naxos, the children of Pisistratus out of Athens, Aeschines out of Sicyon, Symmachus out of Thasus, Aulis out of Phocis, and Aristogenes out of Miletus; and of their overturning the domineering powers of Thessaly, pulling down Aristomedes and Angelus by the help of King Leotychides?—which facts are elsewhere more largely described. Now, if Herodotus says true, they were in the highest degree guilty both of malice and folly, when, denying a most honorable and most just cause of their expedition, they confessed that in remembrance of a former injury, and too highly valuing an inconsiderable matter, they invaded a miserable and afflicted people.

22. Now perhaps he gave the Lacedaemonians this stroke, as directly falling under his pen; but the city of Corinth, which was wholly out of the course of his story, he has dragged in—going out of his way (as they say) to seize upon it—and has bespattered it with a most filthy crime and most shameful calumny. “The Corinthians,” says he, “studiously forwarded this expedition of the Lacedaemonians to Samos, as having themselves also been formerly affronted by the Samians.” The matter was this. Periander tyrant of Corinth sent three hundred boys, sons to the principal men of Corcyra, to King Alyattes, to be gelt. These, going ashore in the island of Samos, were by the Samians taught to sit as suppliants in the temple of Diana, where they preserved them, setting before them for their food sesame mixed with honey. This our author calls an affront put by the Samians on the Corinthians, who therefore instigated the Lacedaemonians against them, to wit, because the Samians had saved three hundred children of the Greeks from being unmanned. By attributing this villany to the Corinthians, he makes the city more wicked than the tyrant. He indeed was revenging himself on those of Corcyra who had slain his son; but what had the Corinthians suffered, that they should punish the Samians for putting an obstacle to so great a cruelty and wickedness?—and this, after three generations, reviving the memory of an old quarrel for the sake of that tyranny, which they found so grievous and intolerable that they are still endlessly abolishing all the monuments and marks of it, though long since extinct. Such then was the injury done by the Samians to the Corinthians. Now what a kind of punishment was it the Corinthians would have inflicted on them? Had they been indeed angry with the Samians, they should not have incited the Lacedaemonians, but rather diverted them from their war against Polycrates, that the Samians might not by the tyrant’s overthrow recover liberty, and be freed from their slavery. But (what is most to be observed) why were the Corinthians so offended with the Samians, that desired indeed but were not able to save the Corcyraeans’ children, and yet were not displeased with the Cnidians, who both preserved them and restored them to their friends? Nor indeed have the Corcyraeans any great esteem for the Samians on this account; but of the Cnidians they preserve a grateful memory, having granted them several honors and privileges, and made decrees in their favor. For these, sailing to Samos, drove away Periander’s guards from the temple, and taking the children aboard their ships, carried them safe to Corcyra; as it is recorded by Antenor the Cretan, and by Dionysius the Chalcidian in his foundations. Now that the Spartans undertook not this war on any design of punishing the Samians, but to save them by delivering them from the tyrant, we have the testimony of the Samians themselves. For they affirm that there is in Samos a monument erected at the public charge, and honors there done to Archias a Spartan, who fell fighting valiantly in that quarrel; for which cause also his posterity still keep a familiar and friendly correspondence with the Samians, as Herodotus himself witnesses.

23. In his Fifth Book, he says, that Clisthenes, one of the best and noblest men in Athens, persuaded the priestess Pythia to be a false prophetess, and always to exhort the Lacedaemonians to free Athens from the tyrants; calumniating this most excellent and just action by the imputation of so great a wickedness and imposture, and taking from Apollo the credit of that true and good prophecy, beseeming even Themis herself, who is also said to have joined with him. He says farther, that Isagoras prostituted his wife to Cleomenes, who came to her.[137] Then, as his manner is, to gain credit by mixing some praises with his reproaches, he says: Isagoras the son of Tisander was of a noble family, but I cannot tell the original of it; his kinsmen, however, sacrifice to the Carian Jupiter.[138] O this pleasant and cunning scoffer of a writer, who thus disgracefully sends Isagoras to the Carians, as it were to the ravens. As for Aristogiton, he puts him not forth at the back door, but thrusts him directly out of the gate into Phoenicia, saying that he had his original from the Gephyraeans, and that the Gephyraeans were not, as some think, Euboeans or Eretrians, but Phoenicians, as himself has learned by report.[139] And since he cannot altogether take from the Lacedaemonians the glory of having delivered the Athenians from the tyrants, he endeavors to cloud and disgrace that most honorable act by as foul a passion. For he says, they presently repented of it, as not having done well, in that they had been induced by spurious and deceitful oracles to drive the tyrants, who were their allies and had promised to put Athens into their hands, out of their country, and had restored the city to an ungrateful people. He adds, that they were about to send for Hippias from Sigeum, and bring him back to Athens; but that they were opposed by the Corinthians, Sosicles telling them how much the city of Corinth had suffered under the tyranny of Cypselus and Periander.[140] And yet there was no outrage of Periander’s more abominable and cruel than his sending the three hundred children to be emasculated, for the delivering and saving of whom from that contumely, the Corinthians, he says, were angry and bore a grudge against the Samians, as having put an affront upon them. With so much repugnance and contradiction is that malice of his discourse filled, which on every occasion insinuates itself into his narrations.

24. After this, relating the action of Sardis, he, as much as in him lies, diminishes and discredits the matter; being so audacious as to call the ships which the Athenians sent to the assistance of the Ionians, who had revolted from the King, the beginning of evils, because they endeavored to deliver so many and so great Grecian cities from the barbarians.[141] As to the Eretrians, making mention of them only by the way, he passes over in silence a great, gallant, and memorable action of theirs. For when all Ionia was in a confusion and uproar, and the King’s fleet drew nigh, they, going forth to meet him, overcame in a sea-fight the Cyprians in the Pamphylian Sea. Then turning back and leaving their ships at Ephesus, they invaded Sardis and besieged Artaphernes, who was fled into the castle, that so they might raise the siege of Miletus. And this indeed they effected, causing the enemies to break up their camp and remove thence in a wonderful fright, and then seeing themselves in danger to be oppressed by a multitude, retired. This not only others, but Lysanias of Mallus also in his history of Eretria relates, thinking it convenient, if for no other reason, yet after the taking and destruction of the city, to add this valiant and heroic act. But this writer of ours says, they were defeated, and pursued even to their ships by the barbarians; though Charon the Lampsacenian has no such thing, but writes thus, word for word: “The Athenians set forth with twenty galleys to the assistance of the Ionians, and going to Sardis, took all thereabouts, except the King’s wall; which having done, they returned to Miletus.”

25. In his Sixth Book, our author, discoursing of the Plataeans,—how they gave themselves to the Lacedaemonians, who exhorted them rather to have recourse to the Athenians, who were nearer to them and no bad defenders,—adds, not as a matter of suspicion or opinion, but as a thing certainly known by him, that the Lacedaemonians gave the Plataeans this advice, not so much for any good will, as through a desire to find work for the Athenians by engaging them with the Boeotians.[142] If then Herodotus is not malicious, the Lacedaemonians must have been both fraudulent and spiteful; and the Athenians fools, in suffering themselves to be thus imposed on; and the Plataeans were brought into play, not for any good-will or respect, but as an occasion of war.

26. He is farther manifestly convinced of belying the Lacedaemonians, when he says that, whilst they expected the full moon, they failed of giving their assistance to the Athenians at Marathon. For they not only made a thousand other excursions and fights at the beginning of the month, without staying for the full moon; but wanted so little of being present at this very battle, which was fought the sixth day of the month Boedromion, that at their coming they found the dead still lying in the field. And yet he has written thus of the full moon: “It was impossible for them to do these things at that present, being unwilling to break the law; for it was the ninth day of the month, and they said, they could not go forth on the ninth day, the orb of the moon being not yet full. And therefore they stayed for the full moon.”[143] But thou, O Herodotus, transferest the full moon from the middle to the beginning of the month, and at the same time confoundest the heavens, days, and all things; and yet thou dost pretend to be the historian of Greece!

And professing to write more particularly and carefully of the affairs of Athens, thou dost not so much as say a word of that solemn procession which the Athenians even at this day send to Agrae, celebrating a feast of thanksgiving to Hecate for their victory. But this helps Herodotus to refel the crime with which he is charged, of having flattered the Athenians for a great sum of money he received of them. For if he had rehearsed these things to them, they would not have omitted or neglected to notice that Philippides, when on the ninth he called the Lacedaemonians to the fight, must have come from it himself, since (as Herodotus says) he went in two days from Athens to Sparta; unless the Athenians sent for their allies to the fight after their enemies were overcome. Indeed Diyllus the Athenian, none of the most contemptible as an historian, says, that he received from Athens a present of ten talents, Anytus proposing the decree. Moreover Herodotus, as many say, has in relating the fight at Marathon derogated from the credit of it, by the number he sets down of the slain. For it is said that the Athenians made a vow to sacrifice so many kids to Diana Agrotera, as they should kill barbarians; but that after the fight, the number of the dead appearing infinite, they appeased the Goddess by making a decree to immolate five hundred to her every year.

27. But letting this pass, let us see what was done after the fight. “The barbarians,” says he, “retiring back with the rest of their ships, and taking the Eretrian slaves out of the island, where they had left them, doubled the point of Sunium, desiring to prevent the Athenians before they could gain the city. The Athenians suspected this to have been done by a plot of the Alcmaeonidae, who by agreement showed a shield to the Persians when they were got into their ships. They therefore doubled the cape of Sunium.”[144] Let us in this place take no notice of his calling the Eretrians slaves, who showed as much courage and gallantry in this war as any other of the Grecians, and suffered things unworthy their virtue. Nor let us insist much on the calumny with which he defames the Alcmaeonidae, some of whom were both the greatest families and noblest men of the city. But the greatness of the victory itself is overthrown, and the end of that so celebrated action comes to nothing, nor does it seem to have been a fight or any great exploit, but only a light skirmish with the barbarians, as the envious and ill-willers affirm, if they did not after the battle fly away, cutting their cables and giving themselves to the wind, to carry them as far as might be from the Attic coast, but having a shield lifted up to them as a signal of treason, made straight with their fleet for Athens, in hope to surprise it, and having at leisure doubled the point of Sunium, were discovered above the port Phalerum, so that the chief and most illustrious men, despairing to save the city, would have betrayed it. For a little after, acquitting the Alcmaeonidae, he charges others with the treason. “For the shield indeed was shown, nor can it be denied,” says he, as if he had seen it himself. But this could no way be, since the Athenians obtained a solid victory; and if it had been done, it could not have been seen by the barbarians, flying in a hurry amidst wounds and arrows into their ships, and leaving every one the place with all possible speed. But when he again pretends to excuse the Alcmaeonidae of those crimes which he first of all men objected against them, and speaks thus: “I cannot believe that the Alcmaeonidae by agreement would ever have lifted up a shield to the Persians, and have brought the Athenians under the power of the barbarians and Hippias;” I am reminded of a certain proverbial saying,—Stop and be caught, crab, and I’ll let you go. For why art thou so eager to catch him, if thou wilt let him go when he is caught? Thus you first accuse, then apologize; and you write calumnies against illustrious men, which again you refute. And you discredit yourself; for you heard no one but yourself say that the Alcmaeonidae lifted up a shield to the vanquished and flying barbarians. And in those very things which you allege for the Alcmaeonidae, you show yourself a sycophant. For if, as here you write, the Alcmaeonidae were more or no less enemies to tyrants than Callias, the son of Phaenippus and father of Hipponicus, where will you place their conspiracy, of which you write in your First Book, that assisting Pisistratus they brought him back from exile to the tyranny and would not have driven him away till he was accused of unnaturally abusing his wife? Such then are the repugnances of these things; and by his intermixing the praises of Callias, the son of Phaenippus, amidst the crimes and suspicions of the Alcmaeonidae, and joining to him his son Hipponicus, who was (as Herodotus himself says) one of the richest men in Athens, he confesses that he brought in Callias not for any necessity of the story, but to ingratiate himself and gain favor with Hipponicus.

28. Now, whereas all know that the Argives denied not to enter into the common league of the Grecians, though they thought not fit to follow and be under the command of the Lacedaemonians, who were their mortal enemies, and that this was no otherways, our author subjoins a most malicious cause for it, writing thus: “When they saw they were comprised by the Greeks, knowing that the Lacedaemonians would not admit them into a share of the command, they requested it, that they might have a pretence to lie still,” “And of this,” he says, “the Argive ambassadors afterwards put Artaxerxes in mind, when they attended him at Susa, and the King said, he esteemed no city more his friend than Argos.” Then adding, as his manner is, to cover the matter, he says: “Of these things I know nothing certainly; but this I know, that all men have faults, and that the worst things were not done by the Argives; but I must tell such things as are reported, though I am not bound to believe them all; and let this be understood of all my narrations. For it is farther said that the Argives, when they were not able to sustain the war against the Lacedaemonians, called the Persians into Greece, willing to suffer any thing rather than the present trouble.”[145] Therefore, as himself reports the Ethiopian to have said of the ointment and purple, “Deceitful are the beauties, deceitful the garments of the Persians,”[146] may not any one say also of him, Deceitful are the phrases, deceitful the figures of Herodotus’s speeches; as being perplexed, unsound, and full of ambiguities? For as painters set off and render more eminent the luminous part of their pictures by adding shadows, so he by his denials extends his calumnies, and by his dubious speeches makes his suspicions take deeper impression. If the Argives joined not with the other Greeks, but stood out through an emulation of the Lacedaemonians’ command and valor, it cannot be denied but that they acted in a manner not beseeming their nobility and descent from Hercules. For it had been more honorable for the Argives under the rule of Siphnians and Cythnians to have defended the Grecian liberty, than contending with the Spartans for superiority to have avoided so many and such signal combats. And if it was they who brought the Persians into Greece, because their war against the Lacedaemonians succeeded ill, how came it to pass, that they did not at the coming of Xerxes openly join themselves to the Persians? Or if they would not fight under the King, why did they not, being left at home, make incursions into Laconia, or again attempt Thyreae, or by some other way disturb and infest the Lacedaemonians? For they might have greatly damaged the Grecians, by hindering the Spartans from going with so great an army to Plataea.

29. But in this place indeed he has highly magnified the Athenians and pronounced them the saviors of Greece, doing herein rightly and justly, if he had not intermixed many reproaches with their praises. But now, when he says[147] that (had it not been for the Athenians) the Lacedaemonians would have been betrayed by the other Greeks, and then, being left alone and having performed great exploits, they would have died generously; or else, having before seen that the Greeks were favoring the Medes, they would have made terms with Xerxes; it is manifest, he speaks not these things to the commendation of the Athenians, but he praises the Athenians that he may speak ill of all the rest. For how can any one now be angry with him for so bitterly and intemperately upbraiding the Thebans and Phocians at every turn, when he charges even those who exposed themselves to all perils for Greece with a treason which was never acted, but which (as he suspects) might have been acted. Nay, of the Lacedaemonians themselves, he makes it doubtful whether they would have fallen in the battle or have yielded to the enemy, distrusting the proofs of their valor which were shown at Thermopylae;—and these indeed were slight!

30. After this, when he declares the shipwreck that befell the King’s fleet, and how, an infinite mass of wealth being cast away, Aminocles the Magnesian, son of Cresines, was greatly enriched by it, having gotten an immense quantity of gold and silver; he could not so much as let this pass without snarling at it. “For this man,” says he, “who had till then been none of the most fortunate, by wrecks became exceeding rich; for the misfortune he had in killing his son much afflicted his mind.”[148] This indeed is manifest to every one, that he brought this golden treasure and this wealth cast up by the sea into his history, that he might make way for the inserting Aminocles’s killing his son.

31. Now Aristophanes the Boeotian wrote, that Herodotus demanded money of the Thebans but received none, and that going about to discourse and reason with the young men, he was prohibited by the magistrates through their clownishness and hatred of learning; of which there is no other argument. But Herodotus bears witness to Aristophanes, whilst he charges the Thebans with some things falsely, with others ignorantly, and with others as hating them and having a quarrel with them. For he affirms that the Thessalians at first upon necessity inclined to the Persians,[149] in which he says the truth; and prophesying of the other Grecians that they would betray the Lacedaemonians, he added, that they would not do it willingly, but upon necessity, one city being taken after another. But he does not allow the Thebans the same plea of necessity, although they sent to Tempe five hundred men under the command of Mnamias, and to Thermopylae as many as Leonidas desired, who also alone with the Thespians stood by him, the rest leaving him after he was surrounded. But when the barbarian, having possessed himself of the avenues, was got into their confines, and Demaratus the Spartan, favoring in right of hospitality Attaginus, the chief of the oligarchy, had so wrought that he became the King’s friend and familiar, whilst the other Greeks were in their ships, and none came on by land; then at last being forsaken did they accept conditions of peace, to which they were compelled by great necessity. For they had neither the sea and ships at hand, as had the Athenians; nor did they dwell far off, as the Spartans, who inhabited the most remote parts of Greece; but were not above a day and half’s journey from the Persian army, whom they had already with the Spartans and Thespians alone resisted at the entrance of the straits, and were defeated.

But this writer is so equitable, that having said, “The Lacedaemonians, being alone and deserted by their allies, would perhaps have made a composition with Xerxes,” he yet abuses the Thebans, who were driven to the same act by the same necessity. But when he could not wholly obliterate this most great and glorious act of the Thebans, yet went he about to deface it with a most vile imputation and suspicion, writing thus: “The confederates who had been sent returned back, obeying the commands of Leonidas; there remained only with the Lacedaemonians the Thespians and the Thebans: of these, the Thebans stayed against their wills, for Leonidas retained them as hostages; but the Thespians most willingly, as they said they would never depart from Leonidas and those that were with him.”[150] Does he not here manifestly discover himself to have a peculiar pique and hatred against the Thebans, by the impulse of which he not only falsely and unjustly calumniated the city, but did not so much as take care to render his contradiction probable, or to conceal, at least from a few men, his being conscious of having knowingly contradicted himself? For having before said that Leonidas, perceiving his confederates not to be in good heart nor prepared to undergo danger, wished them to depart, he a little after adds that the Thebans were against their wills detained by him; whereas, if he had believed them inclined to the Persians, he should have driven them away though they had been willing to tarry. For if he thought that those who were not brisk would be useless, to what purpose was it to mix among his soldiers those that were suspected? Nor was the king of the Spartans and general of all Greece so senseless as to think that four hundred armed Thebans could be detained as hostages by his three hundred, especially the enemy being both in his front and rear. For though at first he might have taken them along with him as hostages; it is certainly probable that at last, having no regard for him, they would have gone away from him, and that Leonidas would have more feared his being encompassed by them than by the enemy. Furthermore, would not Leonidas have been ridiculous, to have sent away the other Greeks, as if by staying they should soon after have died, and to have detained the Thebans, that being himself about to die, he might keep them for the Greeks? For if he had indeed carried them along with him for hostages, or rather for slaves, he should not have kept them with those that were at the point of perishing, but have delivered them to the Greeks that went away. There remained but one cause that might be alleged for Leonidas’s unwillingness to let them go, to wit, that they might die with him; and this our historian himself has taken away, writing thus of Leonidas’s ambition: “Leonidas considering these things, and desirous that this glory might redound to the Spartans alone, sent away his confederates rather for this than because they differed in their opinions.”[151] For it had certainly been the height of folly to keep his enemies against their wills, to be partakers of that glory from which he drove away his confederates. But it is manifest from the effects, that Leonidas suspected not the Thebans of insincerity, but esteemed them to be his steadfast friends. For he marched with his army into Thebes, and at his request obtained that which was never granted to any other, to sleep within the temple of Hercules; and the next morning he related to the Thebans the vision that had appeared to him. For he imagined that he saw the most illustrious and greatest cities of Greece irregularly tost and floating up and down on a very stormy and tempestuous sea; that Thebes, being carried above all the rest, was lifted up on high to heaven, and suddenly after disappeared. And this indeed had a resemblance of those things which long after befell that city.

32. Now Herodotus, in his narration of that fight, hath obscured also the bravest act of Leonidas, saying that they all fell in the straits near the hill.[152] But the affair was otherwise managed. For when they perceived by night that they were encompassed by the barbarians, they marched straight to the enemies’ camp, and got very near the King’s pavilion, with a resolution to kill him and leave their lives about him. They came then to his tent, killing or putting to flight all they met; but when Xerxes was not found there, seeking him in that vast camp and wandering about, they were at last with much difficulty slain by the barbarians, who surrounded them on every side. What other acts and sayings of the Spartans Herodotus has omitted, we will write in the Life of Leonidas; yet that hinders not but we may here set down also some few. Before Leonidas went forth to that war, the Spartans exhibited to him funeral games, at which the fathers and mothers of those that went along with him were spectators. Leonidas himself, when one said to him, You lead very few with you to the battle, answered, There are many to die there. When his wife, at his departure, asked him what commands he had for her; he, turning to her, said, I command you to marry good men, and bring them good children. After he was enclosed by the enemy at Thermopylae, desiring to save two that were related to him, he gave one of them a letter and sent him away; but he rejected it, saying angrily, I followed you as a soldier, not as a post. The other he commanded on a message to the magistrates of Sparta; but he, answering by his act, took his shield, and stood up in his rank. Who would not have blamed another that should have omitted these things? But he who has collected and recorded the fart of Amasis, the coming of the thief’s asses, and the giving of bottles, and many such like things, cannot seem to have omitted these gallant acts and these remarkable sayings by negligence and oversight, but as bearing ill-will and being unjust to some.

33. He says that the Thebans, being at the first with the Greeks, fought compelled by necessity.[153] For belike not only Xerxes, but Leonidas also, had whipsters following his camp, by whom the Thebans were scourged and forced against their wills to fight. And what more savage libeller could be found than Herodotus, when he says that they fought upon necessity, who might have gone away and fled, and that they inclined to the Persians, whereas not one came in to help them. After this, he writes that, the rest making to the hill, the Thebans separated themselves from them, lifted up their hands to the barbarian, and coming near, cried with a most true voice, that they had favored the Persians, had given earth and water to the King, that now being forced by necessity they were come to Thermopylae, and that they were innocent of the King’s wound. Having said these things, they obtained quarter; for they had the Thessalians for witnesses of all they said. Behold, how amidst the barbarians’ exclamations, tumults of all sorts, flights and pursuits, their apology was heard, the witnesses examined; and the Thessalians, in the midst of those that were slain and trodden under foot, all being done in a very narrow passage, patronized the Thebans, to wit, because the Thebans had but a little before driven away them, who were possessed of all Greece as far as Thespiae, having conquered them in a battle, and slain their leader Lattamyas! For thus at that time stood matters between the Boeotians and the Thessalians, without any friendship or good-will. But yet how did the Thebans escape, the Thessalians helping them with their testimonies? Some of them, says he, were slain by the barbarians; many of them were by command of Xerxes marked with the royal mark, beginning with their leader Leontiades. Now the captain of the Thebans at Thermopylae was not Leontiades, but Anaxander, as both Aristophanes, out of the Commentaries of the Magistrates, and Nicander the Colophonian have taught us. Nor did any man before Herodotus know that the Thebans were stigmatized by Xerxes; for otherwise this would have been an excellent plea for them against his calumny, and this city might well have gloried in these marks, that Xerxes had punished Leonidas and Leontiades as his greatest enemies, having outraged the body of the one when he was dead, and caused the other to be tormented whilst living. But as to a man who makes the barbarian’s cruelty against Leonidas when dead a sign that he hated him most of all men when living,[154] and yet says that the Thebans, though favoring the Persians, were stigmatized by them at Thermopylae, and having been thus stigmatized, again cheerfully took their parts at Plataea, it seems to me that such a man—like that Hippoclides[155] who stood on his head upon a table and gesticulated with his legs—would dance away the truth and exclaim, Herodotus cares not for that.

34. In the Eighth Book our author says, that the Greeks being frighted designed to fly from Artemisium into Greece, and that, being requested by the Euboeans to stay a little till they could dispose of their wives and families, they regarded them not, till such time as Themistocles, having taken money of them, divided it between Eurybiades and Adimantus, the captain of the Corinthians, and that then they stayed and had a sea-fight with the barbarians.[156] Yet Pindar, who was not a citizen of any of the confederate cities, but of one that was suspected to take part with the Medians, having made mention of Artemisium, brake forth into this exclamation: “This is the place where the sons of the Athenians laid the glorious foundation of liberty.” But Herodotus, by whom, as some will have it, Greece is honored, makes that victory a work of bribery and theft, saying that the Greeks, deceived by their captains, who had to that end taken money, fought against their wills. Nor does he here put an end to his malice. All men in a manner confess that, although the Greeks got the better at sea, they nevertheless abandoned Artemisium to the barbarians after they had received the news of the overthrow at Thermopylae. For it was to no purpose for them to stay there and keep the sea, the war being already within Thermopylae, and Xerxes having possessed himself of the avenues. But Herodotus makes the Greeks contriving to fly before they heard any thing of Leonidas’s death. For thus he says: “But they having been ill-treated, and especially the Athenians, half of whose ships were sorely shattered, consulted to take their flight into Greece.”[157] But let him be permitted so to name (or rather reproach) this retreat of theirs before the fight; but having before called it a flight, he both now styles it a flight, and will again a little after term it a flight; so bitterly does he adhere to this word “flight.” “Presently after this,” says he, “there came to the barbarians in the pinnace a man of Hestiaea, who acquainted them with the flight of the Grecians from Artemisium. They, because the thing seemed incredible, kept the messenger in custody, and sent forth some light galleys to discover the truth.”[158] But what is this you say? That they fled as conquered, whom the enemies after the fight could not believe to have fled, as having got much the better? Is then this a fellow fit to be believed when he writes of any man or city, who in one word deprives Greece of the victory, throws down the trophy, and pronounces the inscriptions they had set up to Diana Proseoa (Eastward-looking) to be nothing but pride and vain boasting? The tenor of the inscription was as follows:

When Athens youth had in a naval fight All Asia’s forces on this sea o’erthrown, And all the Persian army put to flight, Than which a greater scarce was ever known, To show how much Diana they respected, This trophy to her honor they erected.

Moreover, not having described any order of the Greeks, nor told us what place every city of theirs held during the sea-fight, he says that in this retreat, which he calls their flight, the Corinthians sailed first and the Athenians last.[159]

35. He indeed ought not to have too much insulted over the Greeks that took part with the Persians, who, being by others thought a Thurian, reckons himself among the Halicarnassians, who, being Dorians by descent, went with their wives and children to the war against the Greeks. But he is so far from giving first an account of the straits they were in who revolted to the Persians, that, having related how the Thessalians sent to the Phocians, who were their mortal enemies, and promised to preserve their country free from all damage if they might receive from them a reward of fifty talents, he writ thus of the Phocians: “For the Phocians were the only people in these quarters who inclined not to the Persians, and that, as far as I upon due consideration can find, for no other reason but because they hated the Thessalians; for if the Thessalians had been affected to the Grecian affairs, I suppose the Phocians would have joined themselves to the Persians.” And yet a little after he will say, that thirteen cities of the Phocians were burned by the barbarians, their country laid waste, and the temple which was in Abae set on fire, and all of both sexes put to the sword, except those that by flight escaped to Parnassus.[160] Nevertheless, he puts those who suffered all extremities rather than lose their honesty in the same rank with those who most affectionately sided with the Persians. And when he could not blame the Phocians’ actions, he sat at his desk devising false causes and framing suspicions against them, and bidding us judge them not by what they did, but by what they would have done if the Thessalians had not taken the same side, as if they had been shut out from treason because they found the place already occupied by others! Now if any one, going about to excuse the revolt of the Thessalians to the Persians, should say that they would not have done it but for the hatred they bare the Phocians,—whom when they saw joined to the Greeks, they against their inclinations followed the party of the Persians,—would not such a one be thought most shamefully to flatter, and for the sake of others to pervert the truth, by feigning good causes for evil actions? Indeed, I think, he would. Why then would not he be thought openly to calumniate, who says that the Phocians chose the best, not for the love of virtue, but because they saw the Thessalians on the contrary side? For neither does he refer this device to other authors, as he is elsewhere wont to do, but says that himself found it out by conjecture. He should therefore have produced certain arguments, by which he was persuaded that they, who did things like the best, followed the same counsels with the worst. For what he alleges of their enmities is ridiculous. For neither did the difference between the Aeginetans and the Athenians, nor that between the Chalcidians and the Eretrians, nor yet that between the Corinthians and the Megarians, hinder them from fighting together for Greece. Nor did the Macedonians, their most bitter enemies, divert the Thessalians from their friendship with the barbarians, by joining the Persian party themselves. For the common danger did so bury their private grudges, that banishing their other passions, they applied their minds either to honesty for the sake of virtue, or to profit through the impulse of necessity. And indeed, after that necessity which compelled them to obey the Persians was over, they returned again to the Greeks, as Lacrates the Spartan has openly testified of them. And Herodotus, as constrained to it, in his relation of the affairs at Plataea, confessed that the Phocians took part with the Greeks.[161]

36. Neither ought it to seem strange to any, if he thus bitterly inveighs against the unfortunate; since he reckons amongst enemies and traitors those who were present at the engagement, and together with the other Greeks hazarded their safety. For the Naxians, says he, sent three ships to the assistance of the barbarians; but Democritus, one of their captains, persuaded the others to take the party of the Greeks.[162] So unable he is to praise without dispraising, that if he commends one man he must condemn a whole city or people. But in this there give testimony against him, of the more ancient writers Hellanicus, and of the later Ephorus, one of which says that the Naxians came with six ships to aid the Greeks, and the other with five. And Herodotus convinces himself of having feigned these things. For the writers of the Naxian annals say, that they had before beaten back Megabates, who came to their island with two hundred ships, and after that had put to flight the general Datis, who had set their city on fire. Now if, as Herodotus has elsewhere said, the barbarians burned their city so that the men were glad to save themselves by flying into the mountains, most surely had they just cause rather to send aid to the destroyers of their country than to help the protectors of the common liberty. But that he framed this lie not so much to honor Democritus, as to cast infamy on the Naxians, is manifest from his omitting and wholly passing over in silence the valiant acts then performed by Democritus, of which Simonides gives us an account in this epigram:

When as the Greeks at sea the Medes did meet, And had near Salamis a naval fight, Democritus as third led up the fleet, Charging the enemy with all his might; He took five of their ships, and did another, Which they had taken from the Greeks, recover.

37. But why should any one be angry with him about the Naxians? If we have, as some say, antipodes inhabiting the other hemisphere, I believe that they also have heard of Themistocles and his counsel, which he gave to the Greeks, to fight a naval battle before Salamis, after which, the barbarian being overcome, he built in Melite a temple to Diana the Counsellor. This gentle writer, endeavoring, as much as in him lies, to deprive Themistocles of the glory of this, and transfer it to another, writes thus word for word: “Whilst things were thus, Mnesiphilus, an Athenian, asked Themistocles, as he was going aboard his ship, what had been resolved on in council. And being answered, that it was decreed the ships should be brought back to Isthmus, and a battle fought at sea before Peloponnesus; he said, If then they remove the navy from Salamis, you will no longer be fighting for one country; for they will return every one to his own city. Wherefore, if there be any way left, go and endeavor to break this resolution; and, if it be possible, persuade Eurybiades to change his mind and stay here.” Then adding that this advice pleased Themistocles, who, without making any reply, went straight to Eurybiades, he has these very expressions: “And sitting by him he related what he had heard from Mnesiphilus, feigning as if it came from himself, and adding other things.”[163] You see how he accuses Themistocles of disingenuity in arrogating to himself the counsel of Mnesiphilus.

38. And deriding the Greeks still further, he says, that Themistocles, who was called another Ulysses for his wisdom, was so blind that he could not foresee what was fit to be done; but that Artemisia, who was of the same city with Herodotus, without being taught by any one, but by her own consideration, said thus to Xerxes: “The Greeks will not long be able to hold out against you, but you will scatter them, and they will flee to their own cities; nor is it probable, if you march your army by land to Peloponnesus, that they will sit still, or take care to fight at sea for the Athenians. But if you make haste to give them a naval battle, I fear lest your fleets receiving damage may prove also very prejudicial to your land-forces.”[164] Certainly Herodotus wanted nothing but verses to make Artemisia another Sibyl, so exactly prophesying of things to come. Therefore Xerxes also delivered his sons to her to be carried to Ephesus; for he had (it seems) forgot to bring women with him from Susa, if indeed the boys wanted a train of female attendants.

39. But it is not our design to search into the lies of Herodotus; we only make enquiry into those which he invented to detract from the glory of others. He says: “It is reported by the Athenians that Adimantus, captain of the Corinthians, when the enemies were now ready to join battle, was struck with such fear and astonishment that he fled; not thrusting his ship backward by the stern, or leisurely retreating through those that were engaged, but openly hoisting up his sails, and turning the heads of all his vessels. And about the farther part of the Salaminian coast, he was met by a pinnace, out of which one spake thus to him: “Thou indeed, Adimantus, fliest, having betrayed the Grecians; yet they overcome, and according to their desires have the better of their enemies.”[165] This pinnace was certainly let down from heaven. For what should hinder him from erecting a tragical machine, who by his boasting excelled the tragedians in all other things? Adimantus then crediting him (he adds) “returned to the fleet, when the business was already done.” “This report,” says he, “is believed by the Athenians; but the Corinthians deny it, and say, they were the first at the sea-fight, for which they have the testimony of all the other Greeks.” Such is this man in many other places. He spreads different calumnies and accusations of different men, that he may not fail of making some one appear altogether wicked. And it has succeeded well with him in this place; for if the calumny is believed, the Corinthians—if it is not, the Athenians—are rendered infamous. But in truth the Athenians did not belie the Corinthians, but he hath belied them both. Certainly Thucydides, bringing in an Athenian ambassador contesting with a Corinthian at Sparta, and gloriously boasting of many things about the Persian war and the sea-fight at Salamis, charges not the Corinthians with any crime of treachery or leaving their station. Nor was it likely the Athenians should object any such thing against Corinth, when they saw her engraven in the third place after the Lacedaemonians and themselves on those spoils which, being taken from the barbarians, were consecrated to the Gods. And in Salamis they had permitted them to bury the dead near the city, as being men who had behaved themselves gallantly, and to write over them this elegy:

Well-watered Corinth, stranger, was our home; Salamis, Ajax’s isle, is now our grave; Here Medes and Persians and Phoenician ships We fought and routed, sacred Greece to save.

And their honorary sepulchre at the Isthmus has on it this epitaph:

When Greece upon the point of danger stood, We fell, defending her with our life-blood.[166]

Moreover, on the offerings of Diodorus, one of the Corinthian sea-captains, reserved in the temple of Latona, there is this inscription:

Diodorus’s seamen to Latona sent These arms, of hostile Medes the monument.

And as for Adimantus himself, against whom Herodotus frequently inveighs,—saying, that he was the only captain who went about to fly from Artemisium, and would not stay the fight,—behold in how great honor he is:

Here Adimantus rests: the same was he, Whose counsels won for Greece the crown of liberty.

For neither is it probable, that such honor would have been shown to a coward and a traitor after his decease; nor would he have dared to give his daughters the names of Nausinica, Acrothinius, and Alexibia, and his son that of Aristeas, if he had not performed some illustrious and memorable action in that fight. Nor is it credible that Herodotus was ignorant of that which could not be unknown even to the meanest Carian, that the Corinthian women alone made that glorious and divine prayer, by which they besought the Goddess Venus to inspire their husbands with a love of fighting against the barbarians. For it was a thing divulged abroad, concerning which Simonides made an epigram to be inscribed on the brazen image set up in that temple of Venus which is said to have been founded by Medea, when she desired the Goddess, as some affirm, to deliver her from loving her husband Jason, or, as others say, to free him from loving Thetis. The tenor of the epigram follows:

For those who, fighting on their country’s side, Opposed th’ imperial Mede’s advancing tide, We, votaresses, to Cythera pray’d; Th’ indulgent power vouchsafed her timely aid, And kept the citadel of Hellas free From rude assaults of Persia’s archery.

These things he should rather have written and recorded, than have inserted Aminocles’s killing of his son.

40. After he had abundantly satisfied himself with the accusations brought against Themistocles,—of whom he says that, unknown to the other captains, he incessantly robbed and spoiled the islands,—[167] he at length openly takes away the crown of victory from the Athenians, and sets it on the head of the Aeginetans, writing thus: “The Greeks having sent the first-fruits of their spoils to Delphi, asked in general of the God, whether he had a sufficient part of the booty and were contented with it. He answered, that he had enough of all the other Greeks, but not of the Aeginetans; for he expected a donary of them, as having won the greatest honor in the battle at Salamis.”[168] See here how he attributes not his fictions to the Scythians, to the Persians, or to the Egyptians, as Aesop did his to the ravens and apes; but using the very person of the Pythian Apollo, he takes from Athens the chief honor of the battle at Salamis. And the second place in honor being given to Themistocles at the Isthmus by all the other captains,—every one of which attributed to himself the first degree of valor, but gave the next to Themistocles,—and the judgment not coming to a determination, when he should have reprehended the ambition of the captains, he said, that all the Greeks weighed anchor from thence through envy, not being willing to give the chief honor of the victory to Themistocles.[169]

41. In his ninth and last book, having nothing left to vent his malice on but the Lacedaemonians and their glorious action against the barbarians at Plataea, he writes, that the Spartans at first feared lest the Athenians should suffer themselves to be persuaded by Mardonius to forsake the other Greeks; but that now, the Isthmus being fortified, they, supposing all to be safe at Peloponnesus, neglected and slighted the rest, feasting and making merry at home, and deluding and delaying the Athenian ambassadors.[170] How then did there go forth from Sparta to Plataea a thousand and five men, having every one of them with him seven Helots? Or how came it that, exposing themselves to so many dangers, they vanquished and overthrew so many thousand barbarians? Hear now his probable cause of it. “It happened,” says he, “that there was then at Sparta a certain stranger of Tegea, named Chileus, who had some friends amongst the Ephori, between whom and him there was mutual hospitality. He then persuaded them to send forth the army, telling them that the fortification on the Isthmus, by which they had fenced in Peloponnesus, would be of no avail if the Athenians joined themselves with Mardonius.”[171] This counsel then drew Pausanias with his army to Plataea; but if any private business had kept that Chileus at Tegea, Greece had never been victorious.

42. Again, not knowing what to do with the Athenians, he tosses to and fro that city, sometimes extolling it, and sometimes debasing it. He says that, contending for the second place with the Tegeatans they made mention of the Heraclidae, alleged their acts against the Amazons, and the sepulchres of the Peloponnesians that died under the walls of Cadmea, and at last ambitiously brought down their discourse to the battle of Marathon, saying, however, that they would be contented with the command of the left wing.[172] A little after, he says, Pausanias and the Spartans yielded them the first place, desiring them to fight in the right wing against the Persians and give them the left, who excused themselves as not skilled in fighting against the barbarians.[173] Now it is a ridiculous thing, to be unwilling to fight against an enemy unless one has been used to him. But he says farther, that the other Greeks being led by their captains to encamp in another place, as soon as they were moved, the horse fled with joy towards Plataea, and in their flight came as far as Juno’s temple.[174] In which place indeed he charges them all in general with disobedience, cowardice, and treason. At last he says, that only the Lacedaemonians and the Tegeates fought with the barbarians, and the Athenians with the Thebans; equally defrauding all the other cities of their part in the honor of the victory, whilst he affirms that none of them joined in the fight, but that all of them, sitting still hard by in their arms, betrayed and forsook those who fought for them; that the Phliasians and Megarians indeed, when they heard Pausanias had got the better, came in late, and falling on the Theban horse, were all cut off; that the Corinthians were not at the battle, and that after the victory, by pressing on over the hills, they escaped the Theban cavalry.[175] For the Thebans, after the barbarians were overthrown, going before with their horse, affectionately assisted them in their flight; to return them thanks (forsooth) for the marks they had stigmatized them with at Thermopylae! Now what rank the Corinthians had in the fight at Plataea against the barbarians, and how they performed their duty, you may hear from Simonides in these verses:

I’ th’ midst were men, in warlike feats excelling, Who Ephyre, full of springs, inhabited, And who in Corinth, Glaucus’ city, dwelling, Great praise by their great valor merited; Of which they to perpetuate the fame, To th’ Gods of well-wrought gold did offerings frame.

For he wrote not these things, as one that taught at Corinth or that made verses in honor of the city, but only as recording these actions in elegiac verses. But Herodotus, whilst he desires to prevent that objection by which those might convince him of lying who should ask, Whence then are so many mounts, tombs, and monuments of the dead, at which the Plataeans, even to this day, celebrate funeral solemnities in the presence of the Greeks?—has charged, unless I am mistaken, a fouler crime than that of treason on their posterity. For these are his words: “As for the other sepulchres that are seen in Plataea, I have heard that their successors, being ashamed of their progenitors’ absence from this battle, erected every man a monument for posterity’s sake.”[176] Of this treacherous deserting the battle Herodotus was the only man that ever heard. For if any Greeks withdrew themselves from the battle, they must have deceived Pausanias, Aristides, the Lacedaemonians, and the Athenians. Neither yet did the Athenians exclude the Aeginetans who were their adversaries from the inscription, nor convince the Corinthians of having fled from Salamis before the victory, Greece bearing witness to the contrary. Indeed Cleadas, a Plataean, ten years after the Persian war, to gratify, as Herodotus says, the Aeginetans, erected a mount bearing their name. How came it then to pass that the Athenians and Lacedaemonians, who were so jealous of each other that they were presently after the war ready to go together by the ears about the setting up a trophy, did not yet repel those Greeks who fled in a fear from the battle from having a share in the honor of those that behaved themselves valiantly, but inscribed their names on the trophies and colossuses, and granted them part of the spoils? Lastly they set up an altar, on which was engraven this epigram:

The Greeks, by valor having put to flight The Persians and preserved their country’s right, Erected here this altar which you see, To Jove, preserver of their liberty.

Did Cleadas, O Herodotus, or some other, write this also, to oblige the cities by flattery? What need had they then to employ fruitless labor in digging up the earth, to make tombs and erect monuments for posterity’s sake, when they saw their glory consecrated in the most illustrious and greatest donaries? Pausanias indeed, when he was aspiring to the tyranny, set up this inscription in Delphi:

Pausanias, of Greeks the general, When he the Medes in fight had overthrown, Offered to Phoebus a memorial Of victory, this monumental stone.

In which he gave the glory to the Greeks, whose general he professed himself to be. Yet the Greeks not enduring but utterly misliking it, the Lacedaemonians, sending to Delphi, caused this to be cut out, and the names of the cities, as it was fit, to be engraven instead of it. Now how is it possible that the Greeks should have been offended that there was no mention made of them in the inscription, if they had been conscious to themselves of deserting the fight? or that the Lacedaemonians would have erased the name of their leader and general, to insert deserters and such as withdrew themselves from the common danger? For it would have been a great indignity, that Sophanes, Aeimnestus, and all the rest who showed their valor in that fight, should calmly suffer even the Cythnians and Melians to be inscribed on the trophies; and that Herodotus, attributing that fight only to three cities, should raze all the rest out of those and other sacred monuments and donaries.

43. There having been then four fights with the barbarians; he says, that the Greeks fled from Artemisium; that, whilst their king and general exposed himself to danger at Thermopylae, the Lacedaemonians sat negligent at home, celebrating the Olympian and Carnean feasts; and discoursing of the action at Salamis, he uses more words about Artemisia than he does in his whole narrative of the naval battle. Lastly, he says, that the Greeks sat still at Plataea, knowing no more of the fight, till it was over, than if it had been a skirmish between mice and frogs (like that which Pigres, Artemisia’s fellow-countryman, merrily and scoffingly described in his poem), and it had been agreed to fight silently, lest they should be heard by others; and that the Lacedaemonians excelled not the barbarians in valor, but only got the better, as fighting against naked and unarmed men. To wit, when Xerxes himself was present, the barbarians were with much difficulty compelled by scourges to fight with the Greeks; but at Plataea, having taken other resolutions, as Herodotus says, “they were no way inferior in courage and strength; but their garments being without armor was prejudicial to them, since being naked they fought against a completely armed enemy.” What then is there left great and memorable to the Grecians of those fights, if the Lacedaemonians fought with unarmed men, and the other Greeks, though present, were ignorant of the battle; if empty monuments are set up everywhere, and tripods and altars full of lying inscriptions are placed before the Gods; if, lastly, Herodotus only knows the truth, and all others that give any account of the Greeks have been deceived by the fame of those glorious actions, as the effect of an admirable prowess? But he is an acute writer, his style is pleasant, there is a certain grace, force, and elegancy in his narrations; and he has, like a musician, pronounced his discourse, though not knowingly, still clearly and elegantly. These things delight, please, and affect all men. But as in roses we must beware of the venomous flies called cantharides; so must we take heed of the calumnies and envy lying hid under smooth and well-couched phrases and expressions, lest we imprudently entertain absurd and false opinions of the most excellent and greatest cities and men of Greece.

OF COMMON CONCEPTIONS, AGAINST THE STOICS.

LAMPRIAS, DIADUMENUS.

1. LAMPRIAS. You, O Diadumenus, seem not much to care, if any one thinks that you philosophize against the common notions; since you confess that you contemn also the senses, from whence the most part of these notions in a manner proceed, having for their seat and foundation the belief of such things as appear to us. But I beseech you, with what speed you can, either by reasons, incantations, or some other manner of discourse, to cure me, who come to you full, as I seem to myself, of great and strange perturbations; so much have I been shaken, and into such a perplexity of mind have I been brought, by certain Stoics, in other things indeed very good men and my familiar friends, but most bitterly and hostilely bent against the Academy. These, for some few words modestly spoken by me, have (for I will tell you no lie) rudely and unkindly reprehended me; angrily reputing and branding the ancient philosophers as sophisters and corrupters of students of philosophy, and subverters of regular doctrines; and saying things yet more absurd than these, they fell at last upon the conceptions, into which (they maintained) the Academics had brought a certain confusion and disturbance. At length one of them said, that he thought it was not by fortune, but by the providence of the Gods, that Chrysippus came into the world after Arcesilaus and before Carneades; of which the one was the author of the contumelies and injuries done to custom, and the other flourished most of all the Academics. Chrysippus then, coming between them, by his writings against Arcesilaus, stopped also the way against the eloquence of Carneades, leaving indeed many things to the senses, as provisions against a siege, but wholly taking away the trouble about anticipations and conceptions, directing every one of them and putting it in its proper place; so that they who will again embroil and disquiet matters should accomplish nothing, but be convinced of being malicious and deceitful sophisters. I, having been this morning set on fire by these discourses, want some cooling remedies to extinguish and take away this doubting, as an inflammation, out of my mind.

2. DIADUMENUS. You perhaps have suffered the same things with some of the vulgar. But if you believe the poets, who say that the ancient city Sipylus was overthrown by the providence of the Gods when they punished Tantalus, believe also the companions of the Stoa saying that Nature, not by chance but by divine providence, brought forth Chrysippus, when she had a mind to turn things upside down and alter the course of life; for which purpose never any man was fitter than he. But as Cato said of Caesar, that never any but he came to the management of public affairs sober and considerately resolved on the ruin of the state; so does this man seem to me with the greatest diligence and eloquence to overturn and demolish custom, as they who magnify the man testify, when they dispute against him concerning the sophism called Pseudomenos (or the Liar). For to say, my best friend, that a conclusion drawn from contrary positions is not manifestly false, and again to say that some arguments having true premises and true inductions may yet moreover have the contrary to their conclusions true, what conception of demonstration or what presumption of faith does it not overthrow? They say, that the polypus in the winter gnaws his own claws; but the logic of Chrysippus, taking away and cutting off its own chiefest parts and principles,—what other notion has it left unsuspected of falsehood? For the superstructures cannot be steady and sure, if the foundations remain not firm but are shaken with so many doubts and troubles. But as those who have dust or dirt upon their bodies, if they touch or rub the filth that is upon them, seem rather to increase than remove it; so some men blame the Academics, and think them guilty of the faults with which they show themselves to be burdened. For who do more pervert the common conceptions than the Stoics? But if you please, let us leave accusing them, and defend ourselves from the things with which they charge us.

3. LAMPRIAS. Methinks, Diadumenus, I am this day become a various and unconstant man. For erewhile I came dejected and trembling, as one that wanted an apology; and now I am changed to an accuser, and desire to enjoy the pleasure of revenge, in seeing them all convicted of philosophizing against the common conceptions and presumptions, from which they think chiefly their doctrine is derived, whence they say that it alone agrees with Nature.

DIADUMENUS. Shall we then first attack those common and celebrated doctrines of theirs which themselves, gently admitting their absurdity, style paradoxes; as that only wise men are kings, that they only are rich and fair, they only citizens and judges? Or shall we send all this to the brokers, as old decayed frippery, and make our enquiry into such things as are most practical and with the greatest earnestness delivered by them?

LAMPRIAS. I indeed like this best. For who is there that is not already full of the arguments brought against those paradoxes?

4. DIADUMENUS. First then consider this, whether, according to the common conceptions, they can be said to agree with Nature, who think all natural things indifferent, and esteem neither health, vigorousness of body, beauty, nor strength as desirable, commodious, profitable, or any way contributary to the completing of natural perfection; nor believe that their contraries, as maims, pains, disgraces, and diseases, are hurtful or to be shunned? To the latter of these they themselves say that Nature gives us an abhorrence, and an inclination to the former. Which very thing is not a little repugnant to common understanding, that Nature should incline us to such things as are neither good nor available, and avert us from such as are neither ill nor hurtful, and which is more, that she should render this inclination and this aversion so violent, that they who either possess not the one or fall into the other detest their life with good reason, and withdraw themselves out of it.

5. I think also that this is said by them against common sense, that Nature herself is indifferent, and yet that it is good to agree with Nature. For it is not our duty either to follow the law or be persuaded by argument, unless the law and argument be good and honest. And this indeed is the least of their errors. But if, as Chrysippus has written in his First Book concerning Exhortation, a happy life consists only in living according to virtue, other things (as he says) being nothing to us, nor co-operating any ways towards it, Nature is not only indifferent, but foolish also and stupid, in inclining us to such things as belong nothing to us; and we also are fools in thinking felicity to be an agreeing with Nature, which draws us after such things as contribute nothing to happiness. For what can be more agreeable to common sense, than that, as desirable things are requisite to live commodiously, so natural things are necessary that we may live according to Nature? Now these men say not so; but having settled the living according to Nature for their end, do nevertheless hold those things which are according to Nature to be indifferent.

6. Nor is this less repugnant to common sense, that an intelligent and prudent man should not be equally affected to equal good things, but should put no value on some, and be ready to undergo and suffer any thing for others, though the things themselves are neither greater nor less one than another. For they say, It is the same thing to abstain from the enjoyment of an old woman that has one foot in the grave, and ... since in both cases we do what duty requires. And yet for this, as a great and glorious thing, they should be ready to die; when as to boast of the other would be shameful and ridiculous. And even Chrysippus himself in his commentary concerning Jupiter, and in the Third Book of the Gods, says, that it were a poor, absurd, and impertinent thing to glory in such acts, as proceeding from virtue, as bearing valiantly the stinging of a wasp, or abstaining chastely from an old woman that lies a dying. Do not they then philosophize against the common conception, who profess nothing to be more commendable than those things which yet themselves are ashamed to praise? For how can that be desirable or to be approved, which is worthy neither of praise nor admiration, but the praisers and admirers of which they esteem absurd and ridiculous?

7. And yet this will (I suppose) appear to you more against common sense, that a wise man should take no care whether he enjoys or not enjoys the greatest good things, but should carry himself after the same manner in these things, as in those that are indifferent and in their management and administration. For all of us, “whoever we are that eat the fruit of the spacious earth,” judge that desirable, good, and profitable, which being present we use, and absent we want and desire. But that which no man thinks worth his concern, either for his profit or delight, is indifferent. For we by no other means distinguish a laborious man from a trifler, who is for the most part also employed in action, but that the one busies himself in useless matters and indifferently, and the other in things commodious and profitable. But these men act quite contrary; for with them, a wise and prudent man, being conversant in many comprehensions and memories of comprehension, esteems few of them to belong to him; and not caring for the rest, he thinks he has neither more or less by remembering that he lately had the comprehension of Dion sneezing or Theon playing at ball. And yet every comprehension in a wise man, and every memory having assurance and firmness, is a great, yea, a very great good. When therefore his health fails, when some organ of his senses is disordered, or when his wealth is lost, is a wise man so careless as to think that none of these things concern him? Or does he, “when sick, give fees to the physicians: for the gaining of riches sail to Leucon, governor in the Bosphorus, or travel to Idanthyrsus, king of the Scythians,” as Chrysippus says? And being deprived of some of his senses, does he not grow weary even of life? How then do they not acknowledge that they philosophize against the common notions, employing so much care and diligence on things indifferent, and recking not whether they have or have not great good things?

8. But this is also yet against the common conceptions, that he who is a man should not rejoice when coming from the greatest evils to the greatest goods. Now their wise men suffer this. Being changed from extreme viciousness to the highest virtue, and at the same time escaping a most miserable life and attaining to a most happy one, he shows no sign of joy, nor does this so great change lift him up or yet move him, being delivered from all infelicity and vice, and coming to a certain sure and firm perfection of virtue. This also is repugnant to common sense, to maintain that the being immutable in one’s judgments and resolutions is the greatest of goods, and yet that he who has attained to the height wants not this, nor cares for it when he has it, nay, many times will not so much as stretch forth a finger for this security and constancy, which nevertheless themselves esteem the sovereign and perfect good. Nor do the Stoics say only these things, but they add also this to them,—that the continuance of time increases not any good thing; but if a man shall be wise but a minute of an hour, he will not be any way inferior in happiness to him who has all his time practised virtue and led his life happily in it. Yet, whilst they thus boldly affirm these things, they on the contrary also say, that a short-lived virtue is nothing worth; “For what advantage would the attainment of wisdom be to him who is immediately to be swallowed up by the waves or tumbled down headlong from a precipice? What would it have benefited Lichas, if being thrown by Hercules, as from a sling into the sea, he had been on a sudden changed from vice to virtue?” These therefore are the positions of men who not only philosophize against the common conceptions but also confound their own, if the having been but a little while endued with virtue is no way short of the highest felicity, and at the same time nothing worth.

9. Nor is this the strangest thing you will find in their doctrine; but their being of opinion that virtue and happiness, when present, are frequently not perceived by him who enjoys them, nor does he discern that, having but a little before been most miserable and foolish, he is of a sudden become wise and happy. For it is not only childish to say that he who is possessed of wisdom is ignorant of this thing alone, that he is wise, and knows not that he is delivered from folly; but, to speak in general, they make goodness to have very little weight or strength, if it does not give so much as a feeling of it when it is present. For according even to them, it is not by nature imperceptible; nay, even Chrysippus in his books of the End expressly says that good is sensible, and demonstrates it also, as he thinks. It remains then, that by its weakness and littleness it flies the sense, when being present it is unknown and concealed from the possessors. It were more over absurd to imagine that the sight, perceiving those things which are but a little whitish or inclining to white, should not discern such as are white in perfection; or that the touch, feeling those things which are but warm or moderately hot, should be insensible of those that are hot in the highest degree. And yet more absurd it is, that a man who perceives what is commonly according to Nature—as are health and good constitution of body—should yet be ignorant of virtue when it is present, which themselves hold to be most of all and in the highest degree according to Nature. For how can it but be against sense, to conceive the difference between health and sickness, and yet so little to comprehend that between wisdom and folly as to think the one to be present when it is gone, and possessing the other to be ignorant that one has it? Now because there is from the highest progress a change made to felicity and virtue, one of these two things must of necessity follow; either that this progress is not vice and infelicity, or that virtue is not far distant from vice, nor happiness from misery, but that the difference between good and evil is very small and not to be perceived by sense; for otherwise they who have the one for the other could not be ignorant of it.

10. Since then they will not depart from any of these contrarieties, but confess and hold them all,—that those who are proceeding towards virtue are fools and vicious, that those who are become good and wise perceive not this change in themselves, and that there is a great difference between folly and wisdom,—they must surely seem to you wonderfully to preserve an agreement in their doctrines and yet more so in their actions, when affirming all men who are not wise to be equally wicked, unjust, faithless, and fools, they on the other side abhor and detest some of them,—nay, sometimes to such a degree that they refuse even to speak to them when they meet them,—while others of them they trust with their money, choose to offices, and take for husbands to their daughters. Now if they say these things in jest, let them smooth their brows; but if in earnest and as philosophers, it is against the common notions to reprove and blame all men alike in words, and yet to deal with some of them as moderate persons and with others as very wicked; and exceedingly to admire Chrysippus, to deride Alexinus, and yet to think neither of them more or less mad than the other. “’Tis so,” say they; “but as he who is not above a cubit under the superficies of the sea is no less drowned than he who is five hundred fathom deep, so they that are coming towards virtue are no less in vice than those that are farther off. And as blind men are still blind, though they shall perhaps a little after recover their sight; so these that have proceeded towards virtue, till such time as they have attained to it, continue foolish and wicked.” But that they who are in the way towards virtue resemble not the blind, but such as see less clearly, nor are like to those who are drowned, but—those which swim, and that near the harbor,—they themselves testify by their actions. For they would not use counsellors and generals and lawgivers as blind guides, nor would they imitate the works and actions and words and lives of some, if they saw them all equally drowned in folly and wickedness. But leaving this, wonder at the men in this behalf, that they are not taught by their own examples to give up the doctrine that these men are wise being ignorant of it themselves, and neither knowing nor being sensible that they are recovered from being drowned and see the light, and that being gotten above vice, they fetch breath again.

11. This also is against common sense, that it should be convenient for a man who has all good things, and wants nothing requisite to felicity and happiness, to make away himself; and much more this, that for him who neither has nor ever shall have any good thing, but who is and ever shall be accompanied with all adversities, difficulties, and mishaps, it should not be fitting to quit this life unless some of the indifferent things befall him. These laws are enacted in the Stoa; and by these they incite many wise men to kill themselves, as if they would be thereby more happy; and they restrain many foolish men, as if it were fitting for them to live on in wretchedness. Although the wise man is fortunate, blessed, every way happy, secure, and free from danger; but the vicious and foolish man is “full, as I may say, of evils, so that there is not room to put them in;” and yet they think that continuing in life is fit for the latter, and departing out of it for the former. And not without cause, says Chrysippus, for we are not to measure life by good things or evil, but by those that are according to Nature. In this manner do they maintain custom, and philosophize according to the common conceptions. What do you say?—that he who enters upon a deliberation of life and death has no right to consider

What good or ill in his own house there is;

or to weigh, as in a balance, what things have the greatest sign of serving to felicity or infelicity; but must argue whether he should live or die from those things which are neither profitable nor prejudicial, and follow such principles and sentences as command the choosing of a life full of all things to be avoided, and the shunning of one which wants nothing of all those things that are desirable? For though it is an absurd thing, friend Lamprias, to shun a life in which there is no evil, it is yet more absurd, if any one should leave what is good because he is not possessed of what is indifferent, as these men do who leave present felicity and virtue for want of riches and health which they have not.

Saturnian Jove from Glaucus took his wits,

when he went about to change his suit of golden armor for a brazen one, and to give what was worth a hundred oxen for that which was worth but nine. And yet the brazen armor was no less useful for fight than the golden; whereas beauty and health of body, as the Stoics say, contribute not the least advantage as regards happiness. And yet they seek health in exchange for wisdom. For they say, it would well enough have become Heraclitus and Pherecydes to have parted with their virtue and wisdom, if the one of them could have thereby been freed from his lousy disease, and the other from his dropsy; and if Circe had used two sorts of magical drinks, one to make wise men fools, and the other to make fools wise, Ulysses would rather have drunk that of folly, than have changed his shape for the form of a beast, though having with it wisdom, and consequently also happiness. And, they say, wisdom itself dictates to them these things, exhorting them thus: Let me go, and value not my being lost, if I must be carried about in the shape of an ass. But this, some will say, is an ass-like wisdom which teacheth thus; if indeed to be wise and enjoy felicity is good, and to wear the shape of an ass is indifferent. They say, there is a nation of the Ethiopians where a dog reigns, is called king, and has all regal honors and services done to him; but men execute the offices of magistrates and governors of cities. Do not the Stoics act in the very same manner? They give the name and appearance of good to virtue, saying that it alone is desirable, profitable, and available; but in the mean time they act these things, they philosophize, they live and die, as at the command of things indifferent. And yet none of the Ethiopians kill that dog; but he sits in state, and is revered by all. But these men destroy and corrupt their virtue, that they may obtain health and riches.

12. But the corollary which Chrysippus himself has given for a conclusion to his doctrines seems to free us from the trouble of saying any thing more about it. For there being, says he, in Nature some things good, some things bad, and some things between them both, which we call indifferent; there is no man but would rather have the good than the indifferent, and the indifferent than the bad. And of this we call the Gods to witness, begging of them by our prayers principally the possession of good things, and if that may not be, deliverance from evil; not desiring that which is neither good nor bad instead of good, but willing to have it instead of evil. But this man, changing Nature and inverting its order, removes the middle out of its own place into the last, and brings back the last into the middle,—not unlike to those tyrants who give the first place to the wicked,—and he gives us a law, first to seek the good, and secondly the evil, and lastly to judge that worst which is neither good nor evil; as if any one should place infernal things next to celestial, thrusting the earth and earthly things into Tartarus,

Where very far from hence, deep under ground, Lies a vast gulf.[177]

Having therefore said in his Third Book of Nature, that it is more expedient for a fool to live than not, though he should never attain to wisdom, he adds these words: “For such are the good things of men, that even evil things do in a manner precede other things that are in the middle place; not that these things themselves really precede, but reason, with which we should choose rather to live, though we were to be fools.” Therefore also, though we were to be unjust, wicked, hated of the Gods and unhappy; for none of these things are absent from those that live foolishly. Is it then convenient rather to live miserably than not to live miserably, and better to be hurt than not hurt, to be unjust than not unjust, to break the laws than not to break them? That is, is it convenient to do things that are not convenient, and a duty to live even against duty? Yes indeed, for it is worse to want sense and reason than to be a fool. What then ails them, that they will not confess that to be evil which is worse than evil? Why do they say that folly alone is to be avoided, if it is not less but rather more convenient to shun that disposition which is not capable of folly?

13. But who can complain of this, that shall remember what he has written in his Second Book of Nature, declaring that vice was not unprofitably made for the universe? But it is meet I should set down his doctrine in his own words, that you may understand in what place those rank vice, and what discourses they hold of it, who accuse Xenocrates and Speusippus for not reckoning health indifferent and riches useless. “Vice,” saith he, “has its limit in reference to other accidents. For it is also in some sort according to the reason of Nature, and (as I may so say) is not wholly useless in respect of the universe; for otherwise there would not be any good.” Is there then no good among the Gods, because there is no evil? And when Jupiter, having resolved all matter into himself, shall be alone, other differences being taken away, will there then be no good, because there will be no evil? But is there melody in a choir though none in it sings faultily, and health in the body though no member is sick; and yet cannot virtue have its existence without vice? But as the poison of a serpent or the gall of an hyena is to be mixed with some medicines, was it also of necessity that there must have been some conjunction of the wickedness of Meletus with the justice of Socrates, and the dissolute demeanor of Cleon with the probity of Pericles? And could not Jupiter have found a means to bring into the world Hercules and Lycurgus, if he had not also made for us Sardanapalus and Phalaris? It is now time for them to say that the consumption was made for the sound constitution of men’s bodies, and the gout for the swiftness of their feet; and that Achilles would not have had a good head of hair if Thersites had not been bald. For what difference is there between such triflers and ravers, and those who say that intemperance was not brought forth unprofitably for continence, nor injustice for justice, so that we must pray to the Gods, there may be always wickedness,

Lies, fawning speeches, and deceitful manners,[178]

if, when these are taken away, virtue will also vanish and be lost?

14. Or do you desire to understand the greatest sweetness of his eloquence and persuasion? “For,” says he, “as comedies have in them sometimes ridiculous epigrams, which, though bad in themselves, give nevertheless a certain grace to the whole poem; so, though you may blame vice in itself, yet is it not useless to other things.” First then to say that vice was made by the providence of God, as a wanton epigram by the will of the poet, transcends in absurdity all imagination. For this being granted, how will the Gods be rather givers of good than evil? How will wickedness be displeasing to them, and hated by them? And what shall we have to oppose against these ill-sounding sentences of the poets:

A cause to men God sends, When to chastise some house his wrath intends;[179]

and again,

What God those seeds of strife ’twixt them did sow?[180]

Moreover, a lewd epigram adorns the comedy and contributes to its end, which is to delight the spectators and make them laugh. But Jupiter, who is surnamed fatherly, supreme, just, and (as Pindar has it) the most perfect artist, framing the world, not as a great interlude, full of variety and great learning, but as a common city of Gods and men, living together in concord and happiness with justice and virtue,—what need had he, for the attaining to this excellent end, of thieves, murderers, parricides, and tyrants? For vice entered not as a morris-dance, pleasing and delightful to the Divinity; nor was injustice brought in amongst the affairs of men, to cause mirth and laughter by its raillery and facetiousness, since there is not to be seen in it so much as a dream of that celebrated agreement with Nature. Besides, that foolish epigram is a very small part of the poem, and takes up but a very little place in the comedy; neither do such things abound in it, nor do they corrupt any of those things which seem to have been well done, or spoil their grace. But all human affairs are replete with vice, and the whole life, from the very prologue and beginning to the end, being disordered, depraved, and disturbed, and having no part of it pure or irreprehensible (as these men say), is the most filthy and most unpleasant of all farces.

15. Wherefore I would willingly ask, in what vice is profitable to the universe. Not surely in respect of heavenly things, and such as are divine by nature. For it would be ridiculous to say, that if there had not arisen, or were not amongst men, malice and covetousness and lying, or that if we did not rob, plunder, slander, and murder one another, the sun would not run his appointed course, the world enjoy its seasons and periods of time, or the earth, which is seated in the midst of the universe, afford the principles of the wind and rain. It remains then, that the existence of vice must be profitable for us and our affairs; and that perhaps these men mean. Are we more healthy for being vicious, or do we more abound with necessaries? Or does vice contribute any thing to our beauty and strength? They say, no. But where on earth is virtue to be found? Is it then only a name, and a visionary opinion of night-walking sophisters, and not a reality lying conspicuous to all, like vice, so that we cannot partake of any thing as unprofitable,[181] ... but least, O ye Gods! of virtue, for which we were created? Is it not then absurd, that the utensils of the husbandman, mariner, and charioteer should be serviceable and aiding towards his intended end, whilst that which was by God made for virtue destroys and corrupts virtue? But perhaps it is time now to leave this point, and pass to another.

16. LAMPRIAS. Not for my sake, my dear friend, I beseech you; for I desire to understand, in what manner these men bring in evil things before the good, and vice before virtue.

DIADUMENAS. It is indeed, sir, a thing worth knowing. They babble indeed much; but in conclusion they say that prudence, being the knowledge of good and evil, would be wholly taken away if there were no evil. For as, if there are truths, it is impossible but there must be some lies also near to them; so it stands with reason, that if there are good things, there must also be evil things.

LAMPRIAS. One of these things is not said amiss; and I think also that the other is not unapprehended by me. For I see a difference here: that which is not true must immediately be false; but that is not of necessity evil which is not good; because that between true and false there is no medium, but between good and evil there is the indifferent. Nor is it of necessity that the one must subsist with the other. For Nature may have good without having any need of evil, but only having that which is neither good nor evil. But if there is any thing to be said by you to the former reason, let us hear it.

17. DIADUMENUS. Many things indeed are said; but at present we shall make use only of what is most necessary. In the first place, it is a folly to imagine that good and evil have their existence for the sake of prudence. For good and evil being already extant, prudence came afterwards; as the art of physic was invented, there being already things wholesome and unwholesome. For good and evil are not therefore extant that there may be prudence; but the faculty by which we judge good and evil that are already in being is named prudence. As sight is a sense distinguishing white from black; which colors were not therefore made that we might have sight, but we rather wanted sight to discern these things. Secondly, when the world shall be set on fire (as the Stoics will have it), there will then no evil be left, but all will then be prudent and wise. There is therefore prudence, though there is no evil; nor is it of necessity for evil to exist that prudence may have a being. But supposing that prudence must always be a knowledge of good and evil, what inconvenience would it be if, evil being taken away, prudence should no longer subsist; but instead of this we should have another virtue, not being the knowledge of good and evil, but of good only? So, if black should be wholly lost from among the colors, and any one should therefore contend that sight is also lost, for that there is no longer the sense of discerning black and white, what should hinder us from answering him: It is no prejudice to us, if we have not what you call sight, but in lieu of that have another sense and faculty, by which we apprehend colors that are white and not white. For I indeed think that neither our taste would be lost, if bitter things were wanting, nor our feeling, if pain were taken away, nor prudence, if evil had no being; but that these senses would remain, to apprehend things sweet and grateful and those that are not so, and prudence to be the science of things good and not good. But let those who think otherwise take the name to themselves, leaving us the thing.

BOOK IX. (part 12)

18. Besides all this, what should hinder but there may be an understanding of evil, and an existence of good? As the Gods, I believe, enjoy health, but understand the fever and pleurisy. Since even we, who, as they say, have abundance of evils but no good, are not yet destitute of the knowledge what prudence, what goodness, and what happiness is. And this also would be wonderful, that if virtue were absent, there should be those who could teach us what it is and give us a comprehension of it, while if vice were not extant, it should be impossible to have any understanding of it. For see what these men persuade us who philosophize against the conceptions,—that by folly indeed we comprehend prudence, but prudence without folly cannot so much as comprehend folly itself.

19. And if Nature had absolutely stood in need of the generation of evil, yet might one or two examples of vice have been sufficient; or if you will, it might have been requisite that ten, a thousand, or ten thousand vicious men should be brought forth, and not that the multitude of vices should be so great as “to exceed in number the sands of the sea, the dust of the earth, and the feathers of all the various kinds of birds in the world,” and yet that there should not be so much all this while as a dream of virtue. Those who in Sparta had the charge of the public halls or eating places called Phiditia, were wont to bring forth two or three Helots drunken and full of wine, that the young men, seeing what drunkenness was, might learn to keep sobriety. But in human life there are many such examples of vice. For there is not any one sober to virtue; but we all stagger up and down, acting shamefully and living miserably. Thus does reason inebriate us, and with so much trouble and madness does it fill us, that we fall in nothing short of those dogs of whom Aesop says, that seeing certain skins swimming on the water, they endeavored to drink the sea up, but burst before they could get at them. For reason also, by which we hope to gain reputation and attain to virtue, does, ere we can reach to it, corrupt and destroy us, being before filled with abundance of heady and bitter vice;—if indeed, as these men say, they who are got even to the uppermost step have no ease, cessation, or breathing from folly and infelicity.

20. But let us see what manner of thing he shows vice to be who says that it was not brought forth unprofitably, and of what use and what a possession he makes it to be to those who have it, writing in his book of right actions, that a wicked man wants nothing, has need of nothing, nothing is useful to him, nothing proper, nothing fit for him. How then is vice useful, with which neither health nor abundance of riches nor advancement in virtue is profitable? Who then does not want these things, of which some are “preferable” and “acceptable,” and therefore highly useful, and others are “according to Nature,” as themselves term them? But (they say) no one has need of them, unless he become wise. Therefore the vicious man does not even stand in need of being made wise. Nor are men hungry and thirsty before they become wise. When thirsty, therefore, they have no need of water, nor when hungry, of bread.

Be like to courteous guests, and him Who only fire and shelter asks:

does this man now not need entertainment? Nor had he need of a cloak, who said,

Give Hipponax a cloak, for I’m stiff with cold.

But will you speak a paradox indeed, both extravagant and singular? Say then that a wise man has need of nothing, that he wants nothing, he is fortunate, he is free from want, he is self-sufficient, blessed, perfect. Now what madness is this, that he to whom nothing is wanting has need of the goods he has, but that the vicious indeed wants many things, and stands in need of nothing. For thus indeed says Chrysippus, that the vicious wants but stands not in need; removing the common notions, like chessmen, backwards and forwards. For all men think that having need precedes wanting, esteeming him who stands in need of things that are not at hand or easy to be got, to want them. For no man wants horns or wings, because no man has need of them. But we say that those want arms and money and clothes who are destitute of them, when they have occasion for them. But these men are so desirous of seeming always to say something against the common notions, that for the love of novelty they often depart from their own opinions, as they do here.

21. But recall yourself to the consideration of what has been said a little above. This is one of their assertions against the common conception, that no vicious man receives any utility. And yet many being instructed profit; many being slaves are made free; many being besieged are delivered, being lame are led by the hand, and being sick are cured. “But possessing all these things, they are never the better, neither do receive benefits, nor have they any benefactors, nor do they slight their benefactors.” Vicious men then are not ungrateful, no more than are wise men. Ingratitude therefore has no being; because the good receiving a benefit fail not to acknowledge it, and the bad are not capable of receiving any. Behold now, what they say to this,—that benefit is ranked among mean or middle things, and that to give and receive utility belongs only to the wise, but the bad also receive a benefit. Then they who partake of the benefit partake not also of its use; and whither a benefit extends, there is nothing useful or commodious. Now what else is there that makes a kind office a benefit, but that the bestower of it is, in some respect, useful to the needy receiver?

22. LAMPRIAS. But let these things pass. What, I beseech you, is this so highly venerated utility, which preserving as some great and excellent thing for the wise, they permit not so much as the name of it to the vicious?

DIADUMENUS. If (say they) one wise man does but any way prudently stretch out his finger, all the wise men all the world over receive utility by it. This is the work of their amity; in this do the virtues of the wise man terminate by their common utilities. Aristotle then and Xenocrates doted, saying that men receive utility from the Gods, from their parents, from their masters, being ignorant of that wonderful utility which wise men receive from one another, being moved according to virtue, though they neither are together nor yet know it. Yet all men esteem, that laying up, keeping, and bestowing are then useful and profitable, when some benefit or profit is recovered by it. The thriving man buys keys, and diligently keeps his stores,

With’s hand unlocking wealth’s sweet treasury.[182]

But to store up and to keep with diligence and labor such things as are for no use is not seemly or honorable, but ridiculous. If Ulysses indeed had tied up with the knot which Circe taught him, not the gifts he had received from Alcinous,—tripods, caldrons, cloths, and gold,—but heaping up trash, stones, and such like trumpery, should have thought his employment about such things, and the possession and keeping of them, a happy and blessed work, would any one have imitated this foolish providence and empty care? Yet this is the beauty, gravity, and happiness of the Stoical consent, being nothing else but a gathering together and keeping of useless and indifferent things. For such are things according to Nature, and still more exterior things; if indeed they compare the greatest riches to fringes and golden chamber-pots, and sometimes also, as it happens, to oil-cruets. Then, as those who seem proudly to have affronted and railed at some Gods or demi-gods presently changing their note, fall prostrate and sit humbly on the ground, praising and magnifying the Divinity; so these men, having met with punishment of this arrogancy and vanity, again exercise themselves in these indifferent things and such as pertain nothing to them, crying out with a loud voice that there is but one thing good, specious, and honorable, the storing up of these things and the communication of them, and that it is not meet for those to live who have them not, but to dispatch out of the way and famish themselves, bidding a long farewell to virtue.

They esteem indeed Theognis to have been a man altogether of a base and abject spirit, for saying, as one over-fearful in regard to poverty, which is an indifferent thing:

From poverty to fly, into the deep Throw thyself, Cyrnus, or from rocks so steep.

Yet they themselves exhort the same thing in prose, and affirm that a man, to free himself from some great disease or exceedingly acute pain, if he have not at hand sword or hemlock, ought to leap into the sea or throw himself headlong from a precipice; neither of which is hurtful, or evil, or incommodious, or makes them who fall into it miserable.

23. With what then, says he, shall I begin? And what shall I take for the principle of duty and matter of virtue, leaving Nature and that which is according to Nature? With what, O good sir, do Aristotle and Theophrastus begin? What beginnings do Xenocrates and Polemo take? Does not also Zeno follow these, who suppose Nature and that which is according to Nature to be the elements of happiness? But they indeed persisted in these things, as desirable, good, and profitable; and joining to them virtue, which employs them and uses every one of them according to its property, thought to complete and consummate a perfect life and one every way absolute, producing that concord which is truly suitable and consonant to Nature. For these men did not fall into confusion, like those who leap up from the ground and presently fall down again upon it, terming the same things acceptable and not desirable, proper and not good, unprofitable and yet useful, nothing to us and yet the principles of duties. But their life was such as their speech, and they exhibited actions suitable and consonant to their sayings. But they who are of the Stoic sect—not unlike to that woman in Archilochus, who deceitfully carried in one hand water, in the other fire—by some doctrines draw nature to them, and by others drive her from them. Or rather, by their deeds and actions they embrace those things which are according to Nature, as good and desirable, but in words and speeches they reject and contemn them, as indifferent and of no use to virtue for the acquiring felicity.

24. Now, forasmuch as all men esteem the sovereign good to be joyous, desirable, happy, of the greatest dignity, self-sufficient, and wanting nothing; compare their good, and see how it agrees with this common conception. Does the stretching out a finger prudently produce this joy? Is a prudent torture a thing desirable? Is he happy, who with reason breaks his neck? Is that of the greatest dignity, which reason often chooses to let go for that which is not good? Is that perfect and self-sufficient, by enjoying which, if they have not also indifferent things, they neither can nor will endure to live? There is also another principle of the Stoics, by which custom is still more injured, taking and plucking from her genuine notions, which are as her legitimate children, and supposing other bastardly, wild, and illegitimate ones in their room, and necessitating her to nourish and cherish the one instead of the other; and that too in those doctrines which concern things good and bad, desirable and avoidable, proper and strange, the energy of which ought to be more clearly distinguished than that of hot and cold, black and white. For the imaginations of these things are brought in by the senses from without; but those have their original bred from the good things which we have within us. But these men entering with their logic upon the topic of felicity, as on the sophism called Pseudomenos, or that named Kyrieuon, have removed no ambiguities, but brought in very many.

25. Indeed, of two good things, of which the one is the end and the other belongs to the end, none is ignorant that the end is the greater and perfecter good. Chrysippus also acknowledges this difference, as is manifest from his Third Book of Good Things. For he dissents from those who make science the end, and sets it down.... In his Treatise of Justice, however, he does not think that justice can be safe, if any one supposes pleasure to be the end; but grants it may, if pleasure is not said to be the end, but simply a good. Nor do I think that you need now to hear me repeat his words, since his Third Book of Justice is everywhere to be had. When therefore, O my friend, they elsewhere say that no one good is greater or less than another, and that what is not the end is equal to the end, they contradict not only the common conceptions, but even their own words. Again, if of two evils, the one when it is present renders us worse, and the other hurts us but renders us not worse, it is against common sense not to say that the evil which by its presence renders us worse is greater than that which hurts us but renders us not worse. Now Chrysippus indeed confesses, that there are some fears and sorrows and errors which hurt us, but render us not worse. Read his First Book of Justice against Plato; for in respect of other things, it is worth the while to note the babbling of the man in that place, delivering indifferently all matters and doctrines, as well proper to his own sect as foreign.

26. It is likewise against common sense when he says that there may be two ends or scopes proposed of life, and that all the things we do are not to be referred to one; and yet this is more against common sense, to say that there is an end, and yet that every action is to be referred to another. Nevertheless they must of necessity endure one of these. For if those things which are first according to Nature are not eligible for themselves, but the choice and taking of them agreeably to reason is so, and if every one therefore does all his actions for the acquiring the first things according to Nature, it follows that all things which are done must have their reference to this, that the principal things according to Nature may be obtained. But they think that they who aim and aspire to get these things do not have the things themselves for the end, but that to which they must refer, namely, the choice and not the things. For the end indeed is to choose and receive these things prudently. But the things themselves and the enjoying of them are not the end, but the material object, having its worth only from the choice. For it is my opinion that they both use and write this very expression, to show the difference.

LAMPRIAS. You have exactly related both what they say and in what manner they deliver it.

DIADUMENUS. But observe how it fares with them, as with those that endeavor to leap over their own shadow; for they do not leave behind, but always carry along with them in their speech some absurdity most remote from common sense. For as, if any one should say that he who shoots does all he can, not that he may hit the mark, but that he may do all he can, such a one would rightly be esteemed to speak enigmatically and prodigiously; so these doting dreamers, who contend that the obtaining of natural things is not the end of aiming after natural things, but the taking and choosing them is, and that the desire and endeavor after health is not in every one terminated in the enjoyment of health, but on the contrary, the enjoyment of health is referred to the desire and endeavor after it, and that certain walkings and contentions of speech and suffering incisions and taking of medicines, so they are done by reason, are the end of health, and not health of them,—they, I say, trifle like to those who say, Let us sup, that we may sacrifice, that we may bathe. But this rather changes order and custom, and all things which these men say carry with them the total subversion and confusion of affairs. Thus, we do not desire to take a walk in fit time that we may digest our meat; but we digest our meat that we may take a walk in fit time. Has Nature also made health for the sake of hellebore, instead of producing hellebore for the sake of health? For what is wanting to bring them to the highest degree of speaking paradoxes, but the saying of such things? What difference is there between him who says that health was made for the sake of medicines and not medicines for the sake of health, and him who makes the choice of medicines and their composition and use more desirable than health itself?—or rather who esteems health not at all desirable, but placing the end in the negotiation about these things, prefers desire to enjoyment, and not enjoyment to desire? For to desire, forsooth (they say), is joined the proceeding wisely and discreetly. It is true indeed, we will say, if respect be had to the end, that is, the enjoyment and possession of the things it pursues; but otherwise, it is wholly void of reason, if it does all things for the obtaining of that the enjoyment of which is neither honorable nor happy.

27. Now, since we are fallen upon this discourse, any thing may rather be said to agree with common sense, than that those who have neither received nor have any conception of good do nevertheless desire and pursue it. For you see how Chrysippus drives Ariston into this difficulty, that he should understand an indifference in things inclining neither to good nor to bad, before either good or bad is itself understood; for so indifference will appear to have subsisted even before itself, if the understanding of it cannot be perceived unless good be first understood, while the good is nothing else than this very indifference. Understand now and consider this indifference which the Stoa denies and calls consent, whence and in what manner it gives us the knowledge of good. For if without good the indifference to that which is not good cannot be understood, much less does the knowledge of good things give any intelligence of itself to those who had not before some notion of the good. But as there can be no knowledge of the art of things wholesome and unwholesome in those who have not first some knowledge of the things themselves; so they cannot conceive any notion of the science of good and evil who have not some foreknowledge of good and evil.

LAMPRIAS. What then is good?

DIADUMENUS. Nothing but prudence.

LAMPRIAS. And what is prudence?

DIADUMENUS. Nothing but the science of good.

LAMPRIAS. There is much then of “Jupiter’s Corinth” (that is, much reasoning in a circle) admitted into their arguments. For I would have you let alone the saying about the turning of the pestle, lest you should seem to mock them; although an accident like to that has insinuated itself into their discourse. For it seems that, to the understanding of good, one has need to understand prudence, and to seek for prudence in the understanding of good, being forced always to pursue the one by the other, and thus failing of both; since to the understanding of each we have need of that which cannot be known without the other be first understood.

DIADUMENUS. But there is yet another way, by which you may perceive not only the perversion but the eversion of their discourse, and the reduction of it entirely to nothing. They hold the essence of good to be the reasonable election of things according to Nature. Now the election is not reasonable which is not directed to some end, as has been said before. What then is this end? Nothing else, say they, but to reason rightly in the election of things according to Nature. First then, the conception of good is lost and gone. For to reason rightly in election is an operation proceeding from an habit of right reasoning; and therefore being constrained to learn this from the end, and the end not without this, we fail of understanding either of them. Besides, which is more, this reasonable election ought in strict justice to be a choice of things good and useful, and co-operating to the end; for how can it be reasonable to choose things which are neither convenient nor honorable nor at all eligible? For be it, as they say, a reasonable election of things having a fitness for the causing felicity; see then to what a beautiful and grave conclusion their discourse brings them. For the end is (it seems), according to them, to reason rightly in the choice of things which are of worth in causing us to reason rightly.

LAMPRIAS. When I hear these words, my friend, what is said seems to me strangely extravagant; and I farther want to know how this happens.

DIADUMENUS. You must then be more attentive; for it is not for every one to understand this riddle. Hear therefore and answer. Is not the end, according to them, to reason rightly in the election of things according to Nature?

LAMPRIAS. So they say.

DIADUMENUS. And are these things according to Nature chosen as good, or as having some fitness or preferences ... either for this end or for something else?

LAMPRIAS. I think not for any thing else but for this end.

DIADUMENUS. Now then, having discovered the matter, see what befalls them. They hold that the end is to reason rightly in the choice of things which are of worth in causing us to reason rightly, for they say that we neither have nor understand any other essence either of good or of felicity but this precious rectitude of reasoning in the election of things that are of worth. But there are some who think that this is spoken against Antipater, and not against the whole sect; for that he, being pressed by Carneades, fell into these fooleries.

28. But as for those things that are against the common conceptions taught in the Stoa concerning love, they are all of them concerned in the absurdity. They say, that those youths are deformed who are vicious and foolish, and that the wise are fair; and yet that none of these beautiful ones is either beloved or worthy of being beloved. Nor yet is this the worst; but they add, that those who love the deformed ones cease to do so when they are become fair. Now whoever knew such a love as is kindled and has its being at the sight of the body’s deformity joined with that of the soul, and is quenched and decays at the accession of beauty joined with prudence, justice, and temperance? These men are not unlike to those gnats which love to settle on the dregs of wine, or on vinegar, but shun and fly away from potable and pleasant wine. As for that which they call and term an appearance of beauty, saying that it is the inducement of love,—first, it has no probability, for in those who are very foul and highly wicked there cannot be an appearance of beauty, if indeed (as is said) the wickedness of the disposition fills the face with deformity. And secondly, it is absolutely against all common conceptions that the deformed should be worthy of love because he one day will be fair and expects to have beauty, but that when he has obtained it and is become fair and good, he should be beloved of none.

LAMPRIAS. Love, they say, is a certain hunting after a young person who is as yet indeed imperfect, but naturally well-disposed towards virtue.

DIADUMENUS. And what do we now else, O my best friend, but demonstrate that their sect perverts and destroys all our common conceptions with improbable things and unusual expressions? For none would hinder the solicitude of these wise men towards young persons, if it were free from all passionate affection, from being called hunting or love of instruction; but they ought to call love that which all men and women understand and call by this name, like that which Penelope’s suitors in Homer seem to acknowledge,

Who all desired to lie with her;[183]

or as Jupiter in another place says to Juno,

For neither Goddess yet nor mortal dame E’er kindled in my heart so great a flame.[184]

29. Thus casting moral philosophy into these matters, in which all is

A mazy whirl, with nothing sound, and all perplexed,[185]

they contemn and deride all about them, as if themselves were the only men who regulated nature and custom as it ought to be, and who at the same time adapted reason to each man’s peculiar state by means of aversions, desires, appetites, pursuits, and impulses. But custom has received no good from their logic, but, like the ear diseased by vain sounds, is filled with difficulty and obscurity,—of which, if you think good, we will elsewhere begin a new discourse. But now we will run through the chief and principal heads of their natural philosophy, which no less confounds the common conceptions than that other concerning ends.

30. First, this is altogether absurd and against sense, to say that is which is not, and things which are not are. But above all, that is most absurd which they say of the universe. For, putting round about the circumference of the world an infinite vacuum, they say that the universe is neither a body nor bodiless. It follows then from this that the universe has no being, since with them body only has a being. Since therefore it is the part of that which has a being both to do and suffer, and the universe has no being, it follows that the universe will neither do nor suffer. Neither will it be in a place; for that which takes up place is a body, and the universe is not a body, therefore the universe is nowhere. And since that only rests which continues in one and the same place, the universe rests not, because it takes not up place. Neither yet is it moved, for what is moved must have a place and space to move in. Moreover, what is moved either moves itself, or suffers motion from another. Now, that which is moved by itself has some bents and inclinations proceeding from its gravity or levity; and gravity and levity are either certain habits or faculties or differences of bodies. But the universe is not a body. It follows then of necessity, that the universe is neither heavy nor light, and consequently, that it has not in itself any principle of motion. Nor yet will the universe be moved by any other; for there is nothing else besides the universe. Thus are they necessitated to say as they do, that the universe neither rests nor is moved. Lastly, since according to their opinion it must not be said that the universe is a body, and yet the heaven, the earth, animals, plants, men, and stones are bodies, it follows that that which is no body will have bodies for its parts, and things which have existence will be parts of that which has no existence, and that which is not heavy will have parts that are heavy, and what is not light will have parts that are light;—than which there cannot be any dreams imagined more repugnant to the common conceptions.

Moreover, there is nothing so evident or so agreeing to common sense as this, that what is not animate is inanimate, and what is not inanimate is animate. And yet they overthrow also this evidence, confessing the universe to be neither animate nor inanimate. Besides this, none thinks the universe, of which there is no part wanting, to be imperfect; but they deny the universe to be perfect, saying that what is perfect may be defined, but the universe because of its infiniteness cannot be defined. Therefore, according to them, there is something which is neither perfect nor imperfect. Moreover, the universe is neither a part, since there is nothing greater than it; nor the whole, for the whole (they say) is predicated only of that which is digested into order; but the universe is, through its infiniteness, undetermined and unordered. Moreover, there is no other thing which can be the cause of the universe, there being nothing besides the universe; nor is the universe the cause of other things or even of itself; for its nature suffers it not to act, and a cause is understood by its acting. Suppose now, one should ask all men what they imagine nothing to be, and what notion they have of it. Would they not answer, that it neither is a cause nor has a cause, that it is neither the whole nor a part, that it is neither perfect nor imperfect, that it is neither animate nor inanimate, that it neither is moved nor rests nor subsists, that it is neither corporeal nor incorporeal; and that this and no other thing is meant by nothing? Since then they alone predicate that of the universe which all others do of nothing, it seems plain that they make the universe and nothing to be the same. Time must then be said to be nothing; the same also must be said of predicate, axiom, connection, combination, which terms they use more than any of the other philosophers, yet they say that they have no being. But farther, to say that what is true has no being or subsistence but is comprehended, and that that is comprehensible and credible which no way partakes of the essence of being,—does not this exceed all absurdity?

31. But lest these things should seem to have too much of logical difficulty, let us proceed to such as pertain more to natural philosophy. Since then, as themselves say,

Jove is of all beginning, midst, and end,[186]

they ought chiefly to have applied themselves to remedy, redress, and reduce to the best order the conceptions concerning the Gods, if there were in them any thing confused or erroneous; or if not, to have left every one in those sentiments which they had from the laws and custom concerning the Divinity:

For neither now nor yesterday These deep conceits of God began; Time out of mind they have been aye, But no man knows where, how, or when.[187]

But these men, having begun (as it were) “from Vesta” to disturb the opinions settled and received in every country concerning the Gods, have not (to speak sincerely) left any thing entire and uncorrupted. For what man is there or ever was, except these, who does not believe the Divinity to be immortal and eternal? Or what in the common anticipations is more unanimously chanted forth concerning the Gods than such things as these:

There the blest Gods eternally enjoy Their sweet delights;[188]

and again,

Both Gods immortal, and earth-dwelling men;[189]

and again,

Exempt from sickness and old age are they, And free from toil, and have escaped the flood Of roaring Acheron?[190]

One may perhaps light upon some nations so barbarous and savage as not to think there is a God; but there was never found any man who, believing a God, did not at the same time believe him immortal and eternal. Certainly, those who were called Atheists, like Theodorus, Diagoras, and Hippo, durst not say that the Divinity is corruptible, but they did not believe that there is any thing incorruptible; not indeed admitting the subsistence of an incorruptibility, but keeping the idea of a God. But Chrysippus and Cleanthes, having filled (as one may say) heaven, earth, air, and sea with Gods, have not yet made any one of all these Gods immortal or eternal, except Jupiter alone, in whom they consume all the rest; so that it is no more proper for him to consume others than to be consumed himself. For it is alike an infirmity to perish by being resolved into another, and to be saved by being nourished by the resolution of others into himself. Now these are not like other of their absurdities, gathered by argument from their suppositions or drawn by consequence from their doctrines; but they themselves proclaim it aloud in their writings concerning the Gods, Providence, Fate, and Nature, expressly saying that all the other Gods were born, and shall die by the fire, melting away, in their opinion, as if they were of wax or tin. It is indeed as much against common sense that God should be mortal as that man should be immortal; nay, indeed, I do not see what the difference between God and man will be, if God also is a reasonable and corruptible animal. For if they oppose us with this subtle distinction, that man is mortal, and God not mortal but corruptible, see what they get by it. For they will say either that God is at the same time both immortal and corruptible, or else that he neither is mortal nor immortal; the absurdity of which even those cannot exceed who set themselves industriously to devise positions repugnant to common sense. I speak of others; for these men have left no one of the absurdest things unspoken or unattempted.

To these things Cleanthes, contending for the conflagration of the world, says, that the sun will make the moon and all the other stars like to himself, and will change them into himself. Indeed, if the stars, being Gods, should contribute any thing to the sun towards their own destruction by contributing to its conflagration, it would be very ridiculous for us to make prayers to them for our salvation, and to think them the saviors of men, whose nature it is to accelerate their own corruption and dissolution.

32. And yet these men leave nothing unsaid against Epicurus, crying out, Fie, fie upon him, as confounding their presumption concerning God by taking away Providence; for God (they say) is presumed and understood to be not only immortal and happy, but also a lover of men and careful of them and beneficial to them; and herein they say true. Now if they who abolish Providence take away the preconception concerning God, what do they who say that the Gods indeed have care of us, but deny them to be helpful to us, and make them not bestowers of good things but of indifferent ones, giving, to wit, not virtue, but wealth, health, children, and such like things, none of which is helpful, profitable, desirable, or available? Or shall we not rather think, that the Epicureans do not take away the conceptions concerning the Gods; but that these Stoics scoff at the Gods and deride them, saying one is a God of fruits, another of marriage, another a physician, and another a diviner, while yet health, issue, and plenty of fruits are not good things, but indifferent things and unprofitable to those who have them?

33. The third point of the conception concerning the Gods is, that the Gods do in nothing so much differ from men as in happiness and virtue. But according to Chrysippus, they have not so much as this difference. For he says that Jupiter does not exceed Dion in virtue, but that Jupiter and Dion, being both wise, are equally aided by one another, when one falls into the motion of the other. For this and none else is the good which the Gods do to men, and likewise men to the Gods when they are wise. For they say, that a man who falls not short in virtue comes not behind them in felicity, and that he who, being tormented with diseases and being maimed in the body, makes himself away, is equally happy with Jupiter the Savior, provided he be but wise. But this man neither is nor ever was upon the earth; but there are infinite millions of men unhappy to the highest degree in the state and government of Jupiter, which is most excellently administered. Now what can be more against sense than that, when Jupiter governs exceedingly well, we should be exceedingly miserable? But if (which it is unlawful even to say) he would wish no longer to be a savior, nor a deliverer, nor a protector, but the contrary to all these glorious appellations, there can no goodness be added to the things that are, either as to their multitude or magnitude, since, as these men say, all men live to the height miserably and wickedly, neither vice receiving addition, nor unhappiness increase.

34. Nor is this the worst; but they are angry with Menander for saying upon the stage,

The chief beginning of men’s miseries Are things exceeding good;

for that this is against sense. And yet they make God, who is good, the beginning of evils. “For matter,” they say, “produced not any evil of itself; for it is without quality, and whatever differences it has, it has received them all from that which moves and forms it.” But that which moves and forms it is the reason dwelling in it, since it is not made to move and form itself. So that of necessity evil, if it come by nothing, must have been produced from that which has no being; but if by some moving principle, from God. But if they think that Jupiter has not the command of his parts nor uses every one of them according to his reason, they speak against common sense, and imagine an animal, many of whose parts are not subservient to his will but use their own operations and actions, to which the whole gives no incitation nor begins their motion. For there is nothing which has life so ill compacted as that, against its will, its feet shall go, its tongue speak, its horns push, or its teeth bite. The most of which things God must of necessity suffer, if the wicked, being parts of him, do against his will lie, cheat, rob, and murder one another. But if, as Chrysippus says, the very least part cannot possibly behave itself otherwise than according to Jupiter’s pleasure, and if every living thing is so framed by Nature as to rest and move according as he inclines it and as he turns, stays, and disposes it,

This saying is more impious than the first.[191]

For it were more tolerable to say that many parts of Jupiter are, through his weakness and want of power, hurried on to do many absurd things against his nature and will, than that there is not any intemperance or wickedness of which Jupiter is not the cause. Moreover, since they affirm the world to be a city and the stars citizens, if this be so, there must be also tribes-men and magistrates, the sun must be some consul, and the evening star a praetor or mayor of a city. Now I know not whether any one that shall go about to confute such things will not show himself more absurd than those who assert and affirm them.

35. Is it not therefore against sense to say that the seed is more and greater than that which is produced of it? For we see that Nature in all animals and plants, even those that are wild, has taken small, slender, and scarce visible things for principles of generation to the greatest. For it does not only from a grain of wheat produce an ear-bearing stalk, or a vine from the stone of a grape; but from a small berry or acorn which has escaped being eaten by the bird, kindling and setting generation on fire (as it were) from a little spark, it sends forth the stock of a bush, or the tall body of an oak, palm, or pine tree. Whence also they say that seed is in Greek called σπέρμα, as it were, the σπείρασις or the coiling up of a great mass in a little compass; and that Nature has the name of φύσις, as if it were the inflation (ἐμφύσησις) and diffusion of reason and numbers opened and loosened by it. But now, in opposition to this, they maintain that fire is the seed of the world, which shall after the conflagration change into seed the world, which will then have a copious nature from a smaller body and bulk, and possess an infinite space of vacuum filled by its increase; and the world being made, the size again recedes and settles, the matter being after the generation gathered and contracted into itself.

36. You may hear them and read many of their writings in which they jangle with the Academics, and cry out against them as confounding all things with their doctrine of indistinguishable identity, and as vehemently contending that there is but one quality in two substances. And yet there is no man who understands not this, and would not on the contrary think it wonderful and extremely strange if there should not in all time be found a dove exactly and in all respects like to another dove, a bee to a bee, a grain of wheat to a grain of wheat, or (as the proverb has it) one fig to another. But these things are plainly against common sense which the Stoics say and feign,—that there are in one substance two particular qualities, and that the same substance, which has particularly one quality, when another quality is added, receives and equally conserves them both. For if there may be two, there may be also three, four, and five, and even more than you can name, in one and the same substance; I say not in its different parts, but all alike in the whole, though ever infinite in number. For Chrysippus says, that Jupiter and the world are like to man, as is also Providence to the soul; when therefore the conflagration shall be, Jupiter, who alone of all the Gods is incorruptible, will retire into Providence, and they being together, will both perpetually remain in the one substance of the ether.

37. But leaving now the Gods, and beseeching them to give these Stoics common sense and a common understanding, let us look into their doctrines concerning the elements. It is against the common conceptions that one body should be the place of another, or that a body should penetrate through a body, neither of them containing any vacuity, but the full passing into the full, and that which has no vacuity—but is full and has no place by reason of its continuity—receiving the mixture. But these men, not thrusting one thing into one, nor yet two or three or ten together, but jumbling all the parts of the world, being cut piecemeal, into any one thing which they shall first light on, and saying that the very least which is perceived by sense will contain the greatest that shall come unto it, boldly frame a new doctrine, convicting themselves here, as in many other things, of taking for their suppositions things repugnant to common sense. And presently upon this they are forced to admit into their discourse many monstrous and strange positions, mixing whole bodies with whole; of which this also is one, that three are four. For this others put as an example of those things which cannot be conceived even in thought. But to the Stoics it is a matter of truth, that when one cup of wine is mixed with two of water, if it is not to be lost but the mixture is to be equalized, it must be extended through the whole and be confounded therewith, so as to make that which was one two by the equalization of the mixture. For the one remains, but is extended as much as two, and thus is equal to the double of itself. Now if it happens in the mixture with two to take the measure of two in the diffusion, this is together the measure both of three and four,—of three because one is mixed with two, and of four because, being mixed with two, it has an equal quantity with those with which it is mixed. Now this fine subtilty is a consequence of their putting bodies into a body, and so likewise is the unintelligibleness of the manner how one is contained in the other. For it is of necessity that, of bodies passing one into another by mixture, the one should not contain and the other be contained, nor the one receive and the other be received within; for this would not be a mixture, but a contiguity and touching of the superficies, the one entering in, and the other enclosing it without, and the rest of the parts remaining unmixed and pure, and so it would be merely many different things. But there being a necessity, according to their axiom of mixture, that the things which are mixed should be mingled one within the other, and that the same things should together be contained by being within, and by receiving contain the other and that neither of them could possibly exist again as it was before, it comes to pass that both the subjects of the mixture mutually penetrate each other, and that there is not any part of either remaining separate, but that they are necessarily all filled with each other.

Here now that famous leg of Arcesilaus comes in, with much laughter insulting over their absurdities; for if these mixtures are through the whole, what should hinder but that, a leg being cut off and putrefied and cast into the sea and diffused, not only Antigonus’s fleet (as Arcesilaus said) might sail through it, but also Xerxes’s twelve hundred ships, together with the Grecians’ three hundred galleys, might fight in it? For the progress will not henceforth fail, nor the lesser cease to be in the greater; or else the mixture will be at an end, and the extremity of it, touching where it shall end, will not pass through the whole, but will give over being mingled. But if the mixture is through the whole, the leg will not indeed of itself afford the Greeks room for the sea-fight, for to this there is need of putrefaction and change; but if one glass or but one drop of wine shall fall from hence into the Aegean or Cretan Sea, it will pass into the Ocean or main Atlantic Sea, not lightly touching its superficies, but being spread quite through it in depth, breadth, and length. And this Chrysippus admits, saying immediately in his First Book of Natural Questions, that there is nothing to hinder one drop of wine from being mixed with the whole sea. And that we may not wonder at this, he says that this one drop will by mixtion extend through the whole world; than which I know not any thing that can appear more absurd.

38. And this also is against sense, that there is not in the nature of bodies any thing either supreme or first or last, in which the magnitude of the body may terminate; but that there is always some phenomenon beyond the assumed body, and that this still going on carries the subject to infinity and undeterminateness. For one body cannot be imagined greater or less than another, if both of them may by their parts proceed in infinitum; but the nature of inequality is taken away. For of things that are esteemed unequal, the one falls short in its last parts, and the other goes on and exceeds. Now if there is no inequality, it follows that there is no unevenness nor roughness of bodies; for unevenness is the inequality of the same superficies with itself, and roughness is an unevenness joined with hardness; neither of which is left us by those who terminate no body in its last part, but extend them all by the multitude of their parts unto an infinity. And yet is it not evident that a man consists of more parts than a finger, and the world of more than a man? This indeed all men know and understand, unless they become Stoics; but if they are once Stoics, they on the contrary say and think that a man has no more parts than a finger, nor the world than a man. For division reduces bodies to an infinity; and of infinites neither is more or less or exceeds in multitude, or the parts of the remainder will cease to be divided and to afford a multitude of themselves.

LAMPRIAS. How then do they extricate themselves out of these difficulties?

DIADUMENUS. Surely with very great cunning and courage. For Chrysippus says: “If we are asked, if we have any parts, and how many, and of what and how many parts they consist, we are to use a distinction, making it a position that the whole body is compacted of the head, trunk, and legs, as if that were all which is enquired and doubted of. But if they extend their interrogation to the last parts, no such thing is to be undertaken, but we are to say that they consist not of any certain parts, nor yet of so many, nor of infinite, nor of finite.” And I seem to myself to have used his very words, that you may perceive how he maintains the common notions, forbidding us to think of what or how many parts every body is compacted, and whether of infinite or finite. For if there were any medium between finite and infinite, as the indifferent is between good and evil, he should, by telling us what that is, have solved the difficulty. But if—as that which is not equal is presently understood to be unequal, and that which is not mortal to be immortal—we also understand that which is not finite to be immediately infinite, to say that a body consists of parts neither finite nor infinite is, in my opinion, the same thing as to affirm that an argument is compacted of positions neither true nor false....

39. To this he with a certain youthful rashness adds, that in a pyramid consisting of triangles, the sides inclining to the juncture are unequal, and yet do not exceed one another in that they are greater. Thus does he keep the common notions. For if there is any thing greater and not exceeding, there will be also something less and not deficient, and so also something unequal which neither exceeds nor is deficient; that is, there will be an unequal thing equal, a greater not greater, and a less not less. See it yet farther, in what manner he answered Democritus, enquiring philosophically and properly, if a cone is divided by a plane parallel with its base, what is to be thought of the superficies of its segments, whether they are equal or unequal; for if they are unequal, they will render the cone uneven, receiving many step-like incisions and roughnesses; but if they are equal, the sections will be equal, and the cone will seem to have the same qualities as the cylinder, to wit, to be composed not of unequal but of equal circles; which is most absurd. Here, that he may convince Democritus of ignorance, he says, that the superficies are neither equal or unequal, but that the bodies are unequal, because the superficies are neither equal nor unequal. Indeed to assert this for a law, that bodies are unequal while the superficies are not unequal, is the part of a man who takes to himself a wonderful liberty of writing whatever comes into his head. For reason and manifest evidence, on the contrary, give us to understand, that the superficies of unequal bodies are unequal, and that the bigger the body is, the greater also is the superficies, unless the excess, by which it is the greater, is void of a superficies. For if the superficies of the greater bodies do not exceed those of the less, but sooner fail, a part of that body which has an end will be without an end and infinite. For if he says that he is compelled to this,... For those rabbeted incisions, which he suspects in a cone, are made by the inequality of the body, and not of the superficies. It is ridiculous therefore to take the superficies out of the account, and after all to leave the inequality in the bodies themselves. But to persist still in this matter, what is more repugnant to sense than the imagining of such things? For if we admit that one superficies is neither equal nor unequal to another, we may say also of magnitude and of number, that one is neither equal nor unequal to another; and this, not having any thing that we can call or think to be a neuter or medium between equal and unequal. Besides, if there are superficies neither equal nor unequal, what hinders but there may be also circles neither equal nor unequal? For indeed these superficies of conic sections are circles. And if circles, why may not also their diameters be neither equal nor unequal? And if so, why not also angles, triangles, parallelograms, parallelopipeds, and bodies? For if the longitudes are neither equal nor unequal to one another, so will the weight, percussion, and bodies be neither equal nor unequal. How then dare these men inveigh against those who introduce vacuities, and suppose that there are some indivisible atoms, and who say that motion and rest are not inconsistent with each other, when themselves affirm such axioms as these to be false: If any things are not equal to one another, they are unequal to one another; and the same things are not equal and unequal to one another? But when he says that there is something greater and yet not exceeding, it were worth the while to ask, whether these things quadrate with one another. For if they quadrate, how is either the greater? And if they do not quadrate, how can it be but the one must exceed and the other fall short? For if neither of these be, the other both will and will not quadrate with the greater. For those who keep not the common conceptions must of necessity fall into such perplexities.

40. It is moreover against sense to say that nothing touches another; nor is this less absurd, that bodies touch one another, but touch by nothing. For they are necessitated to admit these things, who allow not the least parts of a body, but assume something which is before that which seems to touch, and never cease to proceed still farther. What, therefore, these men principally object to the patrons of those indivisible bodies called atoms is this, that there is neither a touching of the whole by the whole, nor of the parts by the parts; for that the one makes not a touching but a mixture, and that the other is not possible, these individuals having no parts. How then do not they themselves fall into the same inconvenience, leaving no first or last part, whilst they say, that whole bodies mutually touch one another by a term or extremity and not by a part? But this term is not a body; therefore one body shall touch one another by that which is incorporeal, and again shall not touch, that which is incorporeal coming between them. And if it shall touch, the body shall both do and suffer something by that which is incorporeal. For it is the nature of bodies mutually to do and suffer, and to touch. But if the body has a touching by that which is incorporeal, it will have also a contact, and a mixture, and a coalition. Again, in these contacts and mixtures, the extremities of the bodies must either remain, or not remain but be corrupted. Now both of these are against sense. For neither do they themselves admit corruptions and generations of incorporeal things; nor can there be a mixture and coalition of bodies retaining their own extremities. For the extremity determines and constitutes the nature of the body; and mixtions, unless the mutual laying of parts by parts are thereby understood, wholly confound all those that are mixed. And, as these men say, we must admit the corruption of extremities in mixtures, and their generation again in the separation of them. But this none can easily understand. Now by what bodies mutually touch each other, by the same they press, thrust, and crush each other. Now that this should be done or suffered by things that are incorporeal, is impossible and not so much as to be imagined. But yet this they would constrain us to conceive. For if a sphere touch a plane by a point, it is manifest that it may be also drawn over the plane upon a point; and if the superficies of it is painted with vermilion, it will imprint a red line on the plane; and if it is fiery hot, it will burn the plane. Now for an incorporeal thing to color, or a body to be burned by that which is incorporeal, is against sense. But if we should imagine an earthen or glassy sphere to fall from on high upon a plane of stone, it were against reason to think it would not be broken, being struck against that which is hard and solid; but it would be more absurd that it should be broken, falling upon an extremity or point that is incorporeal. So that the presumptions concerning things incorporeal and corporeal are wholly disturbed, or rather taken away, by their joining to them many impossibilities.

41. It is also against common sense, that there should be a time future and past, but no time present; and that erewhile and lately subsist, but now is nothing at all. Yet this often befalls the Stoics, who admit not the least time between, nor will allow the present to be indivisible; but whatsoever any one thinks to take and understand as present, one part of that they say to be future, and the other part past; so that there is no part remaining or left of the present time: but of that which is said to be present, one part is distributed to the future, the other to the past. Therefore one of these two things follows: either that, holding there was a time and there will be a time, we must deny there is a time; or we must hold that there is a time present, part of which has already been and part will be, and say that of that which now is, one part is future and the other past; and that of now, one part is before and the other behind; and that now is that which is neither yet now nor any longer now; for that which is past is no longer now, and that which is to come is not yet now. And dividing thus the present, they must needs say of the year and of the day, that part of it was of the year or day past, and part will be of the year or day to come; and that of what is together, there is a part before and a part after. For no less are they perplexed, confounding together these terms, not yet and already and no longer and now and not now. But all other men suppose, esteem, and think erewhile and awhile hence to be different parts of time from now, which is followed by the one and preceded by the other. But Archedemus, saying that now is the beginning and juncture of that which is past and that which is near at hand, has (as it seems) without perceiving it thereby taken away all time. For if now is no time, but only a term or extremity of time, and if every part of time is such as now, all time seems to have no parts, but to be wholly dissolved into terms, joints, and beginnings. But Chrysippus, desiring to show more artifice in his division, in his book of Vacuity and some others, says, that the past and future time are not, but have subsisted (or will subsist), and that the present only is; but in his third, fourth, and fifth books concerning Parts, he asserts, that of the present time one part is past, the other to come. Thus it comes to pass, that he divides subsisting time into non-subsisting parts of a subsisting total, or rather leaves nothing at all of time subsisting, if the present has no part but what is either future or past.

42. These men’s conception therefore of time is not unlike the grasping of water, which, the harder it is held, all the more slides and runs away. As to actions and motions, all evidence is utterly confounded. For if now is divided into past and future, it is of necessity that what is now moved partly has been moved and partly shall be moved, that the end and beginning of motion have been taken away, that nothing of any work has been done first, nor shall any thing be last, the actions being distributed with time. For as they say that of present time, part is past and part to come; so of that which is doing, it will be said that part is done and part shall be done. When therefore had to dine, to write, to walk, a beginning, and when shall they have an end, if every one who is dining has dined and shall dine, and every one who is walking has walked and shall walk? But this is, as it is said, of all absurdities the most absurd, that if he who now lives has already lived and shall live, then to live neither had beginning nor shall have end; but every one of us, as it seems, was born without beginning to live, and shall die without ceasing to live. For if there is no last part, but he who lives has something of the present still remaining for the future, to say “Socrates shall live” will never be false so long as it shall be true to say “Socrates lives;” and so long also will be false to say “Socrates is dead.” So that, if “Socrates shall live” is true in infinite parts of time, it will in no part of time be true to say “Socrates is dead.” And verily what end will there be of a work, and where will you terminate an action, if, as often as it is true to say “This is doing,” it is likewise true to say “This shall be doing”? For he will lie who shall say, there will be an end of Plato’s writing and disputing; since Plato will never give over writing and disputing, if it is never false to say of him who disputes that he shall dispute, and of him who writes that he shall write. Moreover, there will be no part of that which now is, but either has been or is to be, and is either past or future; but of what has been and is to be, of past and future, there is no sense; wherefore there is absolutely no sense of any thing. For we neither see what is past and future, nor do we hear or have any other sense of what has been or is to be. Nothing then, even what is present, is to be perceived by sense, if of the present, part is always future and part past,—if part has been and part is to be.

43. Now they indeed say, that Epicurus does intolerable things and violates the conceptions, in moving all bodies with equal celerity, and admitting none of them to be swifter than another. And yet it is much more intolerable and farther remote from sense, that nothing can be overtaken by another:

Not though Adrastus’s swift-footed steed Should chase the tortoise slow,

as the proverb has it. Now this must of necessity fall out, if things move according to prius and posterius, and the intervals through which they pass are (as these men’s tenet is) divisible in infinitum; for if the tortoise is but a furlong before the horse, they who divide this furlong in infinitum, and move them both according to prius and posterius, will never bring the swiftest to the slowest; the slower always adding some interval divisible into infinite spaces. Now to affirm that, water being poured from a bowl or cup, it will never be all poured out, is it not both against common sense, and a consequence of what these men say? For no man can understand the motion according to prius of things infinitely divisible to be consummated; but leaving always somewhat divisible, it will make all the effusion; all the running and flux of a liquid, motion of a solid, and fall of an heavy thing imperfect.

44. I pass by many absurdities of theirs, touching only such as are against sense. The dispute concerning increase is indeed ancient; for the question, as Chrysippus says, was put by Epicharmus. Now, whereas those of the Academy think that the doubt is not very easy and ready all of a sudden to be cleared, these men have mightily exclaimed against them, and accused them of taking away the presumptions, and yet themselves are so far from preserving the common notions, that they pervert even sense itself. For the discourse is simple, and these men grant the suppositions,—that all particular substances flow and are carried, some of them emitting forth somewhat from themselves, and others receiving things coming from elsewhere; and that the things to which there is made an accession or from which there is a decession by numbers and multitudes, do not remain the same, but become others by the said accessions, the substance receiving a change; and that these changes are not rightly called by custom increasings or diminutions, but it is fitter they should be styled generations and corruptions, because they drive by force from one state to another, whereas to increase and be diminished are passions of a body that is subject and permanent. These things being thus in a manner said and delivered, what would these defenders of evidence and canonical regulators of common conceptions have? Every one of us (they say) is double, twin-like, and composed of a double nature; not as the poets feigned of the Molionidae, that they in some parts grow together and in some parts are separated,—but every one of us has two bodies, having the same color, the same figure, the same weight and place.... These things were never before seen by any man; but these men alone have discerned this composition, doubleness, and ambiguity, how every one of us is two subjects, the one substance, the other quality; and the one is in perpetual flux and motion, neither increasing nor being diminished nor remaining altogether; the other remains and increases and is diminished, and suffers all things contrary to the former, with which it is so concorporated, conjoined, and confounded, that it exhibits not any difference to be perceived by sense. Indeed, Lynceus is said to have penetrated stones and oaks with his sight; and a certain man sitting on a watch-tower in Sicily beheld the ships of the Carthaginians setting forth from their harbor, which was a day and a night’s sail from thence. Callicrates and Myrmecides are said to have made chariots that might be covered with the wings of a fly, and to have engraved verses of Homer on a sesame seed. But none ever discerned or discovered this diversity in us; nor have we perceived ourselves to be double, in one part always flowing, and in the other remaining the same from our birth even to our death. But I make the discourse more simple, since they make four subjects in every one, or rather every one of us to be four. But two are sufficient to show their absurdity. For if, when we hear Pentheus in the tragedy affirm that he sees two suns and two cities of Thebes,[192] we say that he does not see, but that his sight is dazzled, he being transported and troubled in his mind; why do we not bid those farewell, who assert not one city alone, but all men and animals, and all trees, vessels, instruments, and clothes, to be double and composed of two, as men who constrain us to dote rather than to understand? But this feigning other natures of subjects must perhaps be pardoned them; for there appears no other invention by which they can maintain and uphold the augmentations of which they are so fond.

45. But by what cause moved, or for the adorning of what other suppositions, they frame in a manner innumerable differences and forms of bodies in the soul, there is none can say, unless it be that they remove, or rather wholly abdicate and destroy, the common and usual notions, to introduce other foreign and strange ones. For it is very absurd that, making all virtues and vices—and with them all arts, memories, fancies, passions, impulses, and assents—to be bodies, they should affirm that they neither lie nor subsist in any subject, leaving them for a place one only hole, like a prick in the heart, where they crowd the principal part of the soul, enclosed with so many bodies, that a very great number of them lie hid even from those who think they can spare and distinguish them one from another. Nay, that they should not only make them bodies, but also rational creatures, and even a swarm of such creatures, not friendly or gentle, but a multitude maliciously rebellious and revengeful, and should so make of each one of us a park or menagerie or Trojan horse, or whatever else we may call their fancies,—this is the very height of contempt and rebellion against evidence and custom. But they say, that not only the virtues and vices, not only the passions, as anger, envy, grief, and maliciousness, not only comprehensions, fancies, and ignorances, not only arts, as shoemaking and working in brass, are animals; but besides these, also they make even the operations bodies and animals, saying that walking is an animal, as also dancing, supposing, saluting, and railing. The consequence of this is that laughing and weeping are also animals; and if so, then also are coughing, sneezing, groaning, spitting, blowing the nose, and other such like things sufficiently known. Neither have they any cause to take it ill that they are by reason, proceeding leisurely, reduced to this, if they shall call to mind how Chrysippus, in his First Book of Natural Questions, argues thus: “Is not night a body? And are not then the evening, dawning, and midnight bodies? Or is not a day a body? Is not then the first day of the month a body? And the tenth, the fifteenth, and the thirtieth, are they not bodies? Is not a month a body? Summer, autumn, and the year, are they not bodies?”

46. These things they hold against the common conceptions; but those which follow they hold also against their own, engendering that which is most hot by refrigeration, and that which is most subtile by condensation. For the soul, to wit, is a substance most hot and most subtile. But this they make by the refrigeration and condensation of the body, changing, as it were, by induration the spirit, which of vegetative is made animal. Moreover, they say that the sun became animated, his moisture changing into intellectual fire. Behold how the sun is imagined to be engendered by refrigeration! Xenophanes indeed, when one told him that he had seen eels living in hot water, answered, We will boil them then in cold. But if these men engender heat by refrigeration and lightness by condensation, it follows, they must also generate cold things by heat, thick things by dissolution, and heavy things by rarefaction, that so they may keep some proportion in their absurdity.

47. And do they not also determine the substance and generation of conception itself, even against the common conceptions? For conception is a certain imagination, and imagination an impression in the soul. Now the nature of the soul is an exhalation, in which it is difficult for an impression to be made because of its tenuity, and for which it is impossible to keep an impression it may have received. For its nutriment and generation, consisting of moist things, have continual accession and consumption. And the mixture of respiration with the air always makes some new exhalation, which is altered and changed by the flux of the air coming from abroad and again going out. For one may more easily imagine that a stream of running water can retain figures, impressions, and images, than that a spirit can be carried in vapors and humors, and continually mingled with another idle and strange breath from without. But these men so far forget themselves, that, having defined the conceptions to be certain stored-up intelligences, and memoirs to be constant and habitual impressions, and having wholly fixed the sciences, as having stability and firmness, they presently place under them a basis and seat of a slippery substance, easy to be dissipated and in perpetual flux and motion.

48. Now the common conception of an element and principle, naturally imprinted in almost all men, is this, that it is simple, unmixed, and uncompounded. For that is not an element or principle which is mixed; but those things are so of which it is mixed. But these men, making God, who is the principle of all things, to be an intellectual body and a mind seated in matter, pronounce him to be neither simple nor uncompounded, but to be composed of and by another; matter being of itself indeed without reason and void of quality, and yet having simplicity and the property of a principle. If then God is not incorporeal and immaterial, he participates of matter as a principle. For if matter and reason are one and the same thing, they have not rightly defined matter to be reasonless; but if they are different things, then is God constituted of them both, and is not a simple, but compound thing, having to the intellectual taken the corporeal from matter.

49. Moreover, calling these four bodies, earth, water, air, and fire, the first elements, they do (I know not how) make some of them simple and pure, and others compound and mixed. For they hold that earth and water keep together neither themselves nor other things, but preserve their unity by the participation of air and force of fire; but that air and fire do both fortify themselves by their own strength, or being mixed with the other two, give them force, permanence, and subsistence. How then is either earth or water an element, if neither of them is either simple, or first, or self-sufficient, but if each wants somewhat from without to contain and keep it in its being? For they have not left so much as a thought of their substance; but this discourse concerning the earth has much confusion and uncertainty, when they say that it subsists of itself; for if the earth is of itself, how has it need of the air to fix and contain it? But neither the earth nor water can any more be said to be of itself; but the air, drawing together and thickening the matter, has made the earth, and again dissolving and mollifying it, has produced the water. Neither of these then is an element, since something else has contributed being and generation to them both.

50. Moreover, they say that subsistence and matter are subject to qualities, and do so in a manner define them; and again, they make the qualities to be also bodies. But these things have much perplexity. For if qualities have a peculiar substance, for which they both are and are called bodies, they need no other substance; for they have one of their own. But if they have under them in common only that which the Stoics call essence and matter, it is manifest they do but participate of the body; for they are not bodies. But the subject and recipient must of necessity differ from those things which it receives and to which it is subject. But these men see by halves; for they say indeed that matter is void of quality, but they will not call qualities immaterial. Now how can they make a body without quality, who understand no quality without a body? For the reason which joins a body to all quality suffers not the understanding to comprehend any body without some quality. Hither, therefore, he who oppugns incorporeal quality seems also to oppugn unqualified matter; or separating the one from the other, he mutually parts them both. As for the reason which some pretend, that matter is called unqualified not because it is void of all quality, but because it has all qualities, it is most of all against sense. For no man calls that unqualified which is capable of every quality, nor that impassible which is by nature always apt to suffer all things, nor that immovable which is moved every way. And this doubt is not solved, that, however matter is always understood with quality, yet it is understood to be another thing and differing from quality.

THE CONTRADICTIONS OF THE STOICS.

1. I first lay this down for an axiom, that there ought to be seen in men’s lives an agreement with their doctrines. For it is not so necessary that the pleader (as Aeschines has it) and the law speak one and the same thing, as that the life of a philosopher be consonant to his speech. For the speech of a philosopher is a law of his own and voluntarily imposed on himself, unless they esteem philosophy to be a game, or an acuteness in disputing invented for the gaining of applause, and not—what it really is—a thing deserving our greatest study.

2. Since then there are in their discourses many things written by Zeno himself, many by Cleanthes, and most of all by Chrysippus, concerning policy, governing, and being governed, concerning judging and pleading, and yet there is not to be found in any of their lives either leading of armies, making of laws, going to parliament, pleading before the judges, fighting for their country, travelling on embassies, or bestowing of public gifts, but they have all, feeding (if I may so say) on rest as on the lotus, led their whole lives, and those not short but very long ones, in foreign countries, amongst disputations, books, and walkings; it is manifest that they have lived rather according to the writings and sayings of others than their own professions, having spent all their days in that repose which Epicurus and Hieronymus so much commend.

Chrysippus indeed himself, in his Fourth Book of Lives, thinks there is no difference between a scholastic life and a voluptuous one. I will set down here his very words: “They who are of opinion that a scholastic life is from the very beginning most suitable to philosophers seem to me to be in an error, thinking that men ought to follow this for the sake of some recreation or some other thing like to it, and in that manner to spin out the whole course of their life; that is, if it may be explained, to live at ease. For this opinion of theirs is not to be concealed, many of them delivering it clearly, and not a few more obscurely.” Who therefore did more grow old in this scholastic life than Chrysippus, Cleanthes, Diogenes, Zeno, and Antipater, who left their countries not out of any discontent, but that they might quietly enjoy their delight, studying, and disputing at their leisure. To verify which, Aristocreon, the disciple and intimate friend of Chrysippus, having erected his statue of brass upon a pillar, engraved on it these verses:

This brazen statue Aristocreon To’s friend Chrysippus newly here has put, Whose sharp-edged wit, like sword of champion, Did Academic knots in sunder cut.

Such a one then was Chrysippus, an old man, a philosopher, one who praised the regal and civil life, and thought there was no difference between a scholastic and voluptuous one.

3. But those others of them who intermeddle in state affairs act yet more contradictorily to their own doctrines. For they govern, judge, consult, make laws, punish, and honor, as if those were indeed cities in the government of which they concern themselves, those truly counsellors and judges who are at any time allotted to such offices, those generals who are chosen by suffrages, and those laws which were made by Clisthenes, Lycurgus, and Solon, whom they affirm to have been vicious men and fools. Thus even in the management of state affairs are they at war with themselves.

4. Indeed Antipater, in his writings concerning the difference between Cleanthes and Chrysippus, has related that Zeno and Cleanthes would not be made citizens of Athens, lest they might seem to injure their own countries. I shall not much insist upon it, that, if they did well, Chrysippus acted amiss in suffering himself to be enrolled as a member of that city. But this is very contradictory and absurd, that, removing their persons and their lives so far off amongst strangers, they reserved their names for their countries; which is the same thing as if a man, leaving his wife, and cohabiting and bedding with another, and getting children on her, should yet refuse to contract marriage with the second, lest he might seem to wrong the former.

5. Again, Chrysippus, writing in his treatise of Rhetoric, that a wise man will so plead and so act in the management of a commonwealth, as if riches, glory, and health were really good, confesses that his speeches are inextricable and impolitic, and his doctrines unsuitable for the uses and actions of human life.

6. It is moreover a doctrine of Zeno’s, that temples are not to be built to the Gods; for that a temple is neither a thing of much value nor holy; since no work of carpenters and handicrafts-men can be of much value. And yet they who praise these things as well and wisely said are initiated in the sacred mysteries, go up to the Citadel (where Minerva’s temple stands), adore the shrines, and adorn with garlands the sacraries, being the works of carpenters and mechanical persons. Again, they think that the Epicureans, who sacrifice to the Gods and yet deny them to meddle with the government of the world, do thereby refute themselves; whereas they themselves are more contrary to themselves, sacrificing on altars and in temples, which they affirm ought not to stand nor to have been built.

7. Moreover, Zeno admits (as Plato does) several virtues with various distinctions—to wit, prudence, fortitude, temperance and justice—as being indeed inseparable, but yet divers and different from one another. But again, defining every one of them, he says that fortitude is prudence in executing, justice prudence in distributing, as being one and the same virtue, but seeming to differ in its relation to various affairs when it comes to action. Nor does Zeno alone seem to contradict himself in these matters; but Chrysippus also, who blames Ariston for saying that the other virtues are different habits of one and the same virtue, and yet defends Zeno, who in this manner defines every one of the virtues. And Cleanthes, having in his Commentaries concerning Nature said, that vigor is the striking of fire, which, if it is sufficient in the soul to perform the duties presented to it, is called force and strength; subjoins these very words: “Now this force and strength, when it is in things apparent and to be persisted in, is continence; when in things to be endured, it is fortitude; when about worthiness, it is Justice; and when about choosing or refusing, it is temperance.”

8. Against him, who said,

Give not thy judgment till both sides are heard,[193]

Zeno on the contrary made use of such an argument as this: “If he who spake first has plainly proved his cause, the second is not to be heard, for the question is at an end; and if he has not proved it, it is the same case as if being cited he did not appear, or appearing did nothing but wrangle; so that, whether he has proved or not proved his cause, the second is not to be heard.” And yet he who made this dilemma has written against Plato’s Commonweal, dissolved sophisms, and exhorted his scholars to learn logic, as enabling them to do the same. Now Plato has either proved or not proved those things which he writ in his Commonweal; but in neither case was it necessary to write against him, but wholly superfluous and vain. The same may be said concerning sophisms.

9. Chrysippus is of opinion, that young students should first learn logic, secondly, ethics, and after these, physics, and likewise in this to meddle last of all with the disputes concerning the Gods. Now these things having been often said by him, it will suffice to set down what is found in his Fourth Book of Lives, being thus word for word: “First then, it seems to me, according as it has been rightly said by the ancients, that there are three kinds of philosophical speculations, logical, ethical, and physical, and that of these, the logical ought to be placed first, the ethical second, and the physical third, and that of the physical, the discourse concerning the Gods ought to be the last; wherefore also the traditions concerning this have been styled Τελεταί, or the Endings.” But that very discourse concerning the Gods, which he says ought to be placed the last, he usually places first and sets before every moral question. For he is seen not to say any thing either concerning the ends, or concerning justice, or concerning good and evil, or concerning marriage and the education of children, or concerning the law and the commonwealth; but, as those who propose decrees to states set before them the words To Good Fortune, so he also premises something of Jupiter, Fate, Providence, and of the world’s being one and finite and maintained by one power. None of which any one can be persuaded to believe, who has not penetrated deeply into the discourses of natural philosophy. Hear what he says of this in his Third Book of the Gods: “For there is not to be found any other beginning or any other generation of Justice, but what is from Jupiter and common Nature. From thence must every such thing have its beginning, if we will say any thing concerning good and evil.” And again, in his Natural Positions he says: “For one cannot otherwise or more properly come to the discourse of good and evil, to the virtues, or to felicity, than from common Nature and the administration of the world.” And going farther on, he adds: “For to these we must annex the discourse concerning good and evil, there being no other better beginning or relation thereof, and the speculation of Nature being learned for nothing else, but to understand the difference between good and evil.” According to Chrysippus, therefore, the natural science is both before and after the moral; or rather, it is an inversion of order altogether absurd, if this must be put after those things none of which can be comprehended without this; and his contradicting himself is manifest, when he asserts the discourse of Nature to be the beginning of that concerning good and evil, and yet commands it to be delivered, not before, but after it.

Now, if any one shall say that Chrysippus in his book concerning the Use of Speech has written, that he who applies himself to logic first needs not absolutely to abstain from the rest, but should take as much of them as shall fall in his way, he will indeed say the truth, but will withal confirm the fault. For he oppugns himself, one while commanding that the science concerning God should be taken last and for a conclusion, as being therefore also called Τελετή, and again, another while saying that this is to be learned together with the very first. For order is at an end, if all things must be used at all times. But this is more, that having made the science concerning the Gods the beginning of that concerning good and evil, he bids not those who apply themselves to the ethics to begin with that; but learning these, to take of that also as it shall come in their way, and then to go from these to that, without which, he says, there is no beginning or entrance upon these.

10. As for disputing on both sides, he says, that he does not universally reject it, but exhorts us to use it with caution, as is done in pleadings, not with a design really to disprove, but to dissolve their probability. “For to those,” says he, “who endeavor a suspension of assent concerning all things, it is convenient to do this, and it co-operates to what they desire; but as for those who would work and establish in us a certain science according to which we shall professedly live, they ought, on the contrary, to state the first principles, and to direct their novices who are entered from the beginning to the end; and where there is occasion to make mention of contrary discourses, to dissolve their probability, as is done in pleadings.” For this he hath said in express words. Now that it is absurd for philosophers to think that they ought to set down the contrary opinion, not with all its reasons, but like pleaders, disabling it, as if they contended not for truth but victory, we have elsewhere spoken against him. But that he himself has, not here and there in his disputations, but frequently, confirmed the discourses which are contrary to his own opinions,—and that stoutly, and with so much earnestness and contention that it was not for every one to understand what he liked,—the Stoics themselves affirm, who admire the man’s acuteness, and think that Carneades said nothing of his own, but that catching hold of those arguments which Chrysippus alleged for the contrary opinion, he assaulted with them his positions, and often cried out,

Wretch, thy own strength will thee undo,[194]

as if Chrysippus had given great advantages against himself to those who would disturb and calumniate his doctrines.

But of those things which he has written against custom they are so proud and boasting, that they fear not to affirm, that all the sayings of all the Academics together, if they were collected into one body, are not comparable to what Chrysippus has writ in disparagement of the senses. Which is an evident sign of the ignorance or self-love of the speakers; but this indeed is true, that being afterwards desirous to defend custom and the senses, he was inferior to himself, and the latter treatise was much weaker than the former. So that he contradicts himself; for having always directed the proposing of an adversary’s opinions not with approbation, but with a demonstration of their falsity, he has showed himself more acute in opposing than defending his own doctrines; and having admonished others to take heed of contrary arguments, as withdrawing comprehension, he has been more sedulous in framing such proofs as take away comprehension, than such as confirm it. And yet he plainly shows that he himself feared this, writing thus in his Fourth Book of Lives: “Repugnant arguments and probabilities on the contrary side are not rashly to be proposed, but with caution, lest the hearers distracted by them should let go their conceptions, not being able sufficiently to apprehend the solutions, but so weakly that their comprehensions may easily be shaken. For even those who have, according to custom, preconceived both sensible objects and other things depending on the senses quickly forego them, being distracted by Megarian interrogatories and by others more numerous and forcible.” I would willingly therefore ask the Stoics, whether they think these Megarian interrogatories to be more forcible than those which Chrysippus has written in six books against custom; or rather this should be asked of Chrysippus himself. For observe what he has written about the Megarian reason, in his book concerning the Use of Speech, thus: “Some such things fell out in the discourse of Stilpo and Menedemus; for, whereas they were renowned for wisdom, their disputing has turned to their reproach, their arguments being part clumsy, and the rest violently sophistical.” And yet, good sir, you fear lest those arguments which you deride and term the disgrace of their proposers, as having a manifest faultiness, should divert some from comprehension. And did not you yourself, writing so many books against custom, in which you have added whatever you could invent, ambitiously striving to exceed Arcesilaus, expect that you should perplex some of your readers? For neither does he use slender arguments against custom; but as if he were pleading, he with some passion in himself stirs up the affections of others, telling his opponent that he talks foolishly and labors in vain. And that he may leave no room to deny his speaking of contradictions, he has in his Natural Positions written thus: “It may be lawful for those who comprehend a thing to argue on the contrary side, applying to it that defence which the matter itself affords; and sometimes, when they comprehend neither, to discourse what is alleged for either.” And having said in his book concerning the Use of Speech, that we ought no more to use the force of reason than of arms for such things as are not fitting, he subjoins this: “For they are to be employed for the finding out of truths and for the alliance of them, and not for the contrary, though many men do it.” By “many” perhaps he means those who withhold their assent. But these philosophers, comprehending neither, argue on both sides, believing that, if any thing is comprehensible, thus only or chiefly does truth afford a comprehension of itself. But you, who accuse them, and do yourself write contrary to those things which you comprehend concerning custom, and exhort others with assurance to do the same, confess that you wantonly use the faculty of disputing, out of vain ambition, even on unprofitable and hurtful things.

BOOK IX. (part 13)

11. They say, that a good deed is the command, and sin the prohibition of the law; and therefore that the law forbids the wicked many things, but commands them nothing, because they cannot do a good deed. But who is ignorant that he who cannot do a good deed cannot also sin? Therefore they make the law to contradict itself, commanding men those things which they cannot perform, and forbidding them those things from which they cannot abstain. For a man who cannot be temperate cannot but act intemperately; and he who cannot be wise cannot but act foolishly. And they themselves affirm, that those who forbid say one thing, forbid another, and command another. For he who says “Thou shalt not steal” at the same time that he says these words, “Thou shalt not steal,” forbids also to steal, and commands not to steal. The law therefore forbids the wicked nothing, unless it also commands them something. And they say, that the physician bids his disciple to cut and cauterize, omitting to add these words, “seasonably and moderately;” and the musician commands his scholar to play on the harp and sing, omitting “tunably” and “keeping time.” Wherefore also they punish those who do these things unskilfully and faultily; for that they were commanded to do them well, and they have done them ill. If therefore a wise man commands his servant to say or do something, and punishes him for doing it unseasonably or not as he ought, is it not manifest that he commanded him to do a good action and not an indifferent one? But if wise men command wicked ones indifferent things, what hinders but the commands of the law may be also such? Moreover, the impulse (called ὁρμή) is, according to him, the reason of a man commanding him to do something, as he has written in his book of the law. Is not therefore also the aversion (called ἀφορμή) a prohibiting reason, and a disinclination a disinclination agreeable to reason? Caution therefore is also reason prohibiting a wise man; for to be cautious is proper only to the wise, and not to the wicked. If then the reason of a wise man is one thing and the law another, wise men have caution contrary to the law; but if the law is nothing else but the reason of a wise man, the law is found to forbid wise men the doing of those things of which they are cautious.

12. Chrysippus says, that nothing is profitable to the wicked, that the wicked have neither use nor need of any thing. Having said this in his First Book of Good Deeds, he says again, that both commodiousness and grace pertain to mean or indifferent things, none of which, according to them, is profitable. In the same place he affirms, that there is nothing proper, nothing convenient for a vicious man, in these words: “On the same principle we declare that there is nothing foreign or strange to the good man, and nothing proper or rightfully belonging to the bad man, since the one is good and the other bad.” Why then does he break our heads, writing particularly in every one of his books, as well natural as moral, that as soon as we are born, we are appropriated to ourselves, our parts, and our offspring? And why in his First Book of Justice does he say that the very brutes, proportionably to the necessity of their young, are appropriated to them, except fishes, whose young are nourished by themselves? For neither have they sense who have nothing sensible, nor they appropriation who have nothing proper; for appropriation seems to be the sense and perception of what is proper.

13. And this opinion is consequent to their principal ones. It is moreover manifest that Chrysippus, though he has also written many things to the contrary, lays this for a position, that there is not any vice greater or any sin more grievous than another, nor any virtue more excellent or any good deed better than another; so that he says in his Third Book of Nature: “As it well beseems Jupiter to glory in himself and his life, to magnify himself, and (if we may so say) to bear up his head, have an high conceit of himself, and speak big, for that he leads a life worthy of lofty speech; so the same things do not misbeseem all good men, since they are in nothing exceeded by Jupiter.” And yet himself, in his Third Book of Justice, says, that they who make pleasure the end destroy justice, but they who say it is only a good do not destroy it. These are his very words: “For perhaps, if we leave this to pleasure that it is a good but not the end, and that honesty is one of those things which are eligible for themselves, we may preserve justice, making the honest and the just a greater good than pleasure.” But if that only is good which is honest, he who affirms pleasure to be a good is in an error, but he errs less than he who makes it also the end; for the one destroys justice, the other preserves it; and by the one human society is overthrown, but the other leaves a place to goodness and humanity. Now I let pass his saying farther in his book concerning Jupiter, that the virtues increase and go on, lest I may seem to catch at words; though Chrysippus is indeed in this kind very sharp upon Plato and others. But when he forbids the praising of every thing that is done according to virtue, he shows that there is some difference between good deeds. Now he says thus in his book concerning Jupiter: “For since each virtue has its own proper works, there are some of these that are more to be praised than others; for he would show himself to be very frigid, that should undertake to praise and extol any man for holding out the finger stoutly, for abstaining chastely from an old woman ready to drop into the grave, and patiently hearing it said that three are not exactly four.” What he says in his Third Book of the Gods is not unlike to this: “For I moreover think that the praises of such things as to abstain from an old woman who has one foot in the grave, and to endure the bite of a fly, though proceeding from virtue, would be very impertinent.” What other reprehender of his doctrines does this man then expect? For if he who praises such things is frigid, he who asserts every one of them to be a great—nay, a very great good deed—is much more frigid. For if to bear the bite of a fly is equal to the being valiant, and to abstain from an old trot now at the pit’s brink is equal to the being temperate, there is, I think, no difference whether a virtuous man is prized for these or for those. Moreover, in his Second Book of Friendship, teaching that friendships are not for every fault to be dissolved, he has these very expressions: “For it is meet that some faults should be wholly passed by, others lightly reprehended, others more severely, and others deemed worthy a total dissolution of friendship.” And which is more, he says in the same book, that we will converse with some more and some less, so that some shall be more and some less friends; and this diversity extending very far, some are worthy of such an amity, others of a greater; and these will deserve to be so far trusted, those not so far, and the like. For what else has he done in these places, but shown the great diversity there is between these things? Moreover, in his book concerning Honesty, to demonstrate that only to be good which is honest, he uses these words: “What is good is eligible; what is eligible is acceptable; what is acceptable is laudable; and what is laudable is honest.” And again: “What is good is joyous; what is joyous is venerable; what is venerable is honest.” But these speeches are repugnant to himself; for either all good is commendable, and then the abstaining chastely from an old woman is also commendable; or all good is neither venerable nor joyous, and his reason falls to the ground. For how can it possibly be frigid in others to praise any for such things, and not ridiculous for him to rejoice and glory in them?

14. Such indeed he frequently is; but in his disputations against others he takes not the least care of speaking things contrary and dissonant to himself. For in his books of Exhorting, reprehending Plato, who said, that to him who has neither learned nor knows how to live it is profitable not to live, he speaks in this manner: “For this speech is both repugnant to itself, and not at all persuasive. For first insinuating that it is best for us not to live, and in a sort counselling us to die, he will excite us rather to any thing else than to be philosophers; for neither can he who does not live philosophize, nor he who shall live long wickedly and ignorantly become wise.” And going on, he says that it is convenient for the wicked also to continue in life. And afterwards thus, word for word: “First, as virtue, barely taken, has nothing towards our living, so neither has vice any thing to oblige us to depart.” Nor is it necessary to turn over other books, that we may show Chrysippus’s contradictoriness to himself; but in these same, he sometimes with commendation brings forth this saying of Antisthenes, that either understanding or a halter is to be provided, as also that of Tyrtaeus,

Come nigh the bounds of virtue or of death.

Now what else will this show, but that to wicked men and fools not to live is more profitable than to live? And sometimes correcting Theognis, he says, that the poet should not have written,

From poverty to fly;—

but rather thus,

From wickedness to fly, into the deep Throw thyself, Cyrnus, or from rocks so steep.[195]

What therefore else does he seem to do, but to set down himself those things and doctrines which, when others write them, he expunges; condemning, indeed, Plato for showing that not to live is better than to live viciously and ignorantly; and yet counselling Theognis to let a man break his neck or throw himself into the sea, that he may avoid vice? For having praised Antisthenes for directing fools to an halter, he again blames him, saying that vice has nothing that should oblige us to depart out of life.

15. Moreover, in his books against the same Plato, concerning Justice, he immediately at the very beginning leaps into a discourse touching the Gods, and says, that Cephalus did not rightly avert men from injustice by the fear of the Gods, and that his doctrine is easily misrepresented, and that it affords to the contrary many arguments and probabilities impugning the discourse concerning divine punishments, as nothing differing from the tales of Acco and Alphito (or Raw-Head and Bloody-Bones), with which women are wont to frighten little children from their unlucky pranks. Having thus traduced Plato, he in other places again praises him, and often alleges this saying of Euripides:

Howe’er you may deride it, there’s a Jove, With other Gods, who sees men’s woes above.

And likewise, in his First Book of Justice citing these verses of Hesiod,

Then Jove from heaven punishments did send, And plague and famine brought them to their end,[196]

he says, the Gods do these things, that the wicked being punished, others admonished by these examples may less dare to attempt the doing of such things.

Again, in his book of Justice, subjoining, that it is possible for those who make pleasure a good but not the end to preserve also justice, he said in express terms: “For perhaps if we leave this to pleasure, that it is a good but not the end, and that honesty is one of those things which are eligible for themselves, we may preserve justice, making the honest and the just a greater good than pleasure.” So much he says in this place concerning pleasure. But in his book against Plato, accusing him for seeming to make health a good, he says, that not only justice, but also magnanimity, temperance, and all the other virtues will be taken away, if we make pleasure, health, or any thing else which is not honest, to be a good. What therefore is to be said for Plato, we have elsewhere written against him. But here his contradicting himself is manifest, when he says in one place, that if a man supposes that with honesty pleasure also is a good, justice is preserved, and in another, accuses those who make any thing besides honesty to be a good of taking away all the virtues. But that he may not leave any means of making an apology for his contradictions, writing against Aristotle concerning justice, he affirms him not to have spoken rightly when he said, that pleasure being made the end, justice is taken away, and together with justice, every one also of the other virtues. For justice (he says) will indeed be taken away; but there is nothing to hinder the other virtues from remaining and being, though not eligible for themselves, yet good and virtues. Then he reckons up every one of them by name. But it will be better to set down his own words. “For pleasure,” says he, “appearing according to this discourse to be made the end, yet all this seems not to me to be contained in it. Wherefore we must say, that neither any of the virtues is eligible nor any of the vices to be avoided for itself, but that all these things are to be referred to the proposed scope. Yet nothing, according to their opinion, will hinder but that fortitude, prudence, continence, and patience may be good, and their contraries to be avoided.” Has there ever then been any man more peevish in his disputes than he, who has blamed two of the principal philosophers, the one for taking away all virtue, by not making that only to be good which is honest, and the other for not thinking all the virtues except justice to be preserved, though pleasure is made the end? For it is a wonderful licentiousness that, discoursing of the same matters, he should when accusing Plato take away again those very things which himself sets down when reprehending Aristotle. Moreover, in his demonstrations concerning justice, he says expressly, that every good deed is both a lawful action and a just operation; but that every thing which is done according to continence, patience, prudence, or fortitude is a good deed, and therefore also a just operation. Why then does he not also leave justice to them to whom he leaves prudence, fortitude, and continence; since whatever they do well according to the said virtue, they do also justly?

16. Moreover, Plato having said, that injustice, as being the corruption and sedition of the soul, loses not its power even in those who have it within them, but sets the wicked man against himself, and molests and disturbs him; Chrysippus, blaming this, affirms that it is absurdly said, “A man injures himself;” for that injustice is to another, and not to one’s self. But forgetting this, he again says, in his demonstrations concerning justice, that the unjust man is injured by himself and injures himself when he injures another, becoming to himself the cause of transgressing, and undeservedly hurting himself. In his books indeed against Plato, contending that we cannot speak of injustice against one’s self, but against another, he has these words: “For men cannot be unjust by themselves; injustice requires several on opposite sides, speaking contrary one unto another. But no such thing extends to one alone, except inasmuch as he is affected towards his neighbor.” But in his demonstrations he has such discourses as these, concerning the unjust man’s being injurious also to himself: “The law forbids the being any way the author of transgression, and to act unjustly will be transgression. He therefore who is to himself the author of acting unjustly transgresses against himself. Now he that transgresses against any one also injures him; therefore he who is injurious to any one whomsoever is injurious also to himself.” Again: “Sin is a hurt, and every one who sins sins against himself; every one therefore who sins hurts himself undeservedly, and if so, is also unjust to himself.” And farther thus: “He who is hurt by another hurts himself, and that undeservedly. Now that is to be unjust. Every one therefore that is injured, by whomsoever it is, is unjust also to himself.”

17. He says, that the doctrine concerning good and evil which himself introduces and approves is most agreeable to life, and does most of all reach the inbred prenotions; for this he has affirmed in his Third Book of Exhortations. But in his First Book he says, that this doctrine takes a man off from all other things, as being nothing to us, nor co-operating any thing towards felicity. See now, how consonant he is to himself, when he asserts a doctrine which takes us off from life, health, indolence, and integrity of the senses, and says that those things we beg of the Gods are nothing to us, though most agreeable to life and to the common presumptions. But that there may be no denial of his speaking contradictions, in his Third Book of Justice he has said thus: “Wherefore also, from the excellence of their greatness and beauty, we seem to speak things like to fictions, and not according to man or human nature.” Is it then possible that any one can more plainly confess his speaking things contrary to himself than this man does, who affirms those things which (he says) for their excellency seem to be fictions and to be spoken above man and human nature, to be agreeable to life, and most of all to reach the inbred prenotions?

18. In every one of his natural and ethical books, he asserts vice to be the very essence of unhappiness; writing and contending that to live viciously is the same thing as to live unhappily. But in his Third Book of Nature, having said that it is profitable for a fool to live rather than to die, though he is never to become wise, he subjoins: “For such is the nature of good things among men, that evil things are in some sort preferred before indifferent ones.” I let pass therefore, that having elsewhere said that nothing is profitable to fools, he here says that to live foolishly is profitable to them. Now those things being by them called indifferent which are neither bad nor good, when he says that bad things precede them he says nothing else but that evil things precede those that are not evil, and that to be unhappy is more profitable than not to be unhappy; and if so, he esteems not to be unhappy to be more unprofitable—and if more unprofitable, more hurtful—than to be unhappy. Desiring therefore to mitigate this absurdity, he adds concerning evils: “But it is not these evils that are preferred, but reason; with which it is more convenient to live, though we shall be fools.” First therefore he says that vice and things participating of vice are evil, and that nothing else is so. Now vice is something reasonable, or rather depraved reason. For those therefore who are fools to live with reason, is nothing else but to live with vice. Thence to live being fools is to live being unhappy. In what then is this preferred to indifferent things? For he surely will not say that with regard to happiness unhappiness is to be preferred. But neither, say they, does Chrysippus altogether think that the remaining in life is to be reckoned amongst good things, or the going out of it amongst bad; but both of them amongst indifferent ones, according to Nature. Wherefore also it sometimes becomes meet for the happy to make themselves away and again for the unhappy to continue in life. Now what greater repugnance can there be than this in the choice and avoiding of things, if it is convenient for those who are in the highest degree happy to forsake those good things that are present, for the want of some one indifferent thing? And yet they esteem none of the indifferent things either desirable or to be avoided; but only good desirable, and only evil to be avoided. So that it comes to pass, according to them, that the reasoning about actions regards neither things desirable nor things refusable; but that aiming at other things, which they neither shun nor choose, they make life and death dependent on these.

19. Chrysippus confesses that good things are totally different from bad; and it must of necessity be so, if these make them with whom they are present miserable to the very utmost point, and those render their possessors in the highest degree happy. Now he says, that good and evil things are sensible, writing thus in his First Book of the End: “That good and evil things are perceptible by sense, we are by these reasons forced to say; for not only the passions, with their species, as sorrow, fear, and such others, are sensible; but we may also have a sense of theft, adultery, and the like, and generally, of folly, cowardice, and other vices not a few; and again, not only of joy, beneficence, and many other dependences on good deeds, but also of prudence, fortitude, and the other virtues.” Let us pass by the other absurdities of these things; but that they are repugnant to those things which are delivered by him concerning “the wise man that knows nothing of his being so,” who does not confess? For good, when present, being sensible and having a great difference from evil, is it not most absurd, that he who is of bad become good should be ignorant of it, and not perceive virtue when present, but think that vice is still within him? For either none who has all virtues can be ignorant and doubt of his having them; or the difference of virtue from vice, of happiness from misery, and of a most honest life from a most shameful one, is little and altogether difficult to be discerned, if he who has exchanged the one for the other does not perceive it.

20. He has written one volume of lives divided into four books; in the fourth of these he says, that a wise man meddles with no business but his own, and is employed about his own affairs. His words are these: “For I am of opinion, that a prudent man shuns affairs, meddles little, and at the same time minds his own occasions; civil persons being both minders of their own affairs and meddlers with little else.” He has said almost the same in his book of Things eligible for Themselves, in these very words: “For indeed a quiet life seems to have in it a certain security and freedom from danger, though there are not very many who can comprehend it.” It is manifest that he does not much dissent from Epicurus, who takes away Providence that he may leave God in repose. But the same Chrysippus in his First Book of Lives says, that a wise man willingly takes upon him a kingdom, making his profit by it; and if he cannot reign himself, will dwell with a king, and go to the wars with such a king as was Hydanthyrsus the Scythian or Leucon the Pontic. But I will here also set down his very discourse, that we may see whether, as from the treble and the base strings there arises a symphony in music, so the life of a man who chooses quietness and meddling with little accords with him who, upon any necessity, rides along with the Scythians and manages the affairs of the tyrants in the Bosphorus: “For that a wise man will both go to the wars and live with potentates, we will again consider this hereafter; some indeed upon the like arguments not so much as suspecting this, and we for semblable reasons admitting it.” And a little after: “Not only with those who have proceeded well, and are become proficients in discipline and good manners, as with Leucon and Hydanthyrsus.”

Some there are who blame Callisthenes for sailing to Alexander in hopes to obtain the rebuilding of Olynthus, as Aristotle had procured that of Stagira; and commend Ephorus, Xenocrates, and Menedemus, who rejected Alexander’s invitation. But Chrysippus thrusts his wise man headforwards for the sake of gain, as far as Panticapaeum and the desert of the Scythians. And that he does this for the sake of profit and gain, he has showed before, supposing three ways of gaining most suitable for a wise man,—the first by a kingdom, the second by his friends, and the third, besides these, by teaching of philosophy. And yet he frequently even tires us with his praises of this saying:

What need have men of more than these two things?

And in his books of Nature he says, that a wise man, if he has lost the greatest wealth imaginable, seems to have lost but a single groat. But having there thus elevated and puffed him up, he again here throws him down to mercenariness and sophistry; nay, to asking pay and even to receiving it beforehand, sometimes at the very entrance of his scholar, and otherwhiles after some time past. The latter, he says indeed, is the more civil, but to receive beforehand the more sure; delay being subject to sustain injuries. Now he says thus: “All who are well advised do not require their salary in the same manner, but differently; a multitude of them, as opportunity offers, not promising to make their scholars good men, and that within a year, but to do this, as far as in them lies, within a time agreed on.” And again going on, he says: “But he will know his opportunity, whether he ought to receive his recompense presently at the very entrance (as many have done), or to give them time, this manner being more liable to injuries, but withal, seeming the more courteous.” And how is the wise man a contemner of wealth, who upon a contract delivers virtue for money, and if he has not delivered it, yet requires his reward, as having done what is in him? Or how is he above being endamaged, when he is so cautious lest he be wronged of his recompense? For no man is wronged who is not endamaged. Therefore, though he has elsewhere asserted that a wise man cannot be injured, he here says, that this manner of dealing is liable to injury.

21. In his book of a Commonweal he says, that his citizens will neither act nor prepare any thing for the sake of pleasure, and praises Euripides for having uttered this sentence:

What need have men of more than these two things, The fruits of Ceres, and thirst-quenching springs?

yet a little after this, going on, he commends Diogenes who forced his nature to pass from himself in public, and said to those that were present: I wish I could in the same manner drive hunger also out of my belly. What reason then is there to praise in the same books him who rejects all pleasure, and withal, him who for the sake of pleasure does such things, and proceeds to such a degree of filthiness? Moreover, having in his book of Nature written, that Nature has produced many creatures for the sake of beauty, delighting in pulchritude and pleasing herself with variety, and having added a most absurd expression, that the peacock was made for the sake of his tail and for the beauty of it; he has, in his treatise of a Commonweal, sharply reprehended those who bred peacocks and nightingales, as if he were making laws contrary to the lawgiver of the world, and deriding Nature for pleasing herself in the beauty of animals to which a wise man would not give a place in his city. For how can it but be absurd to blame those who nourish these creatures, if he commends Providence which created them? In his Fifth Book of Nature, having said, that bugs profitably awaken us out of our sleep, that mice make us cautious not to lay up every thing negligently, and that it is probable that Nature, rejoicing in variety, takes delight in the production of fair creatures, he adds these words: “The evidence of this is chiefly shown in the peacock’s tail; for here she manifests that this animal was made for the sake of his tail, and not the contrary; so, the male being made, the female follows.” In his book of a Commonweal, having said that we are ready to paint even dunghills, a little after he adds, that some beautify their cornfields with vines climbing up trees, and myrtles set in rows, and keep peacocks, doves, and partridges, that they may hear them cackle and coo, and nightingales. Now I would gladly ask him, what he thinks of bees and honey? For it was of consequence, that he who said bugs were created profitably should also say that bees were created unprofitably. But if he allows these a place in his city, why does he drive away his citizens from things that are pleasing and delight the ear? To be brief,—as he would be very absurd who should blame the guests for eating sweetmeats and other delicacies and drinking of wine, and at the same time commend him who invited them and prepared such things for them; so he that praises Providence, which has afforded fishes, birds, honey, and wine, and at the same time finds fault with those who reject not these things, nor content themselves with

The fruits of Ceres and thirst-quenching springs,

which are present and sufficient to nourish us, seems to make no scruple of speaking things contradictory to himself.

22. Moreover, having said in his book of Exhortations, that the having carnal commerce with our mothers, daughters, or sisters, the eating forbidden food, and the going from a woman’s bed or a dead carcass to the temple, have been without reason blamed, he affirms, that we ought for these things to have a regard to the brute beasts, and from what is done by them conclude that none of these is absurd or contrary to Nature; for that the comparisons of other animals are fitly made for this purpose, to show that neither their coupling, bringing-forth, nor dying in the temples pollutes the Divinity. Yet he again in his Fifth Book of Nature says, that Hesiod rightly forbids the making water into rivers and fountains, and that we should rather abstain from doing this against any altar, or statue of the Gods; and that it is not to be admitted for an argument, that dogs, asses, and young children do it, who have no discretion or consideration of such things. It is therefore absurd to say in one place, that the savage example of irrational animals is fit to be considered, and in another, that it is unreasonable to allege it.

23. To give a solution to the inclinations, when a man seems to be necessitated by exterior causes, some philosophers place in the principal faculty of the soul a certain adventitious motion, which is chiefly manifested in things differing not at all from one another. For when, with two things altogether alike and of equal importance, there is a necessity to choose the one, there being no cause inclining to either, for that neither of them differs from the other, this adventitious power of the soul, seizing on its inclination, determines the doubt. Chrysippus, discoursing against these men, as offering violence to Nature by devising an effect without a cause, in many places alleges the die and the balance, and several other things, which cannot fall or incline either one way or the other without some cause or difference, either wholly within them or coming to them from without; for that what is causeless (he says) is wholly insubsistent, as also what is fortuitous; and in those motions devised by some and called adventitious, there occur certain obscure causes, which, being concealed from us, move our inclinations to one side or other. These are some of those things which are most evidently known to have been frequently said by him; but what he has said contrary to this, not lying so exposed to every one’s sight, I will set down in his own words. For in his book of Judging, having supposed two running for a wager to have exactly finished their race together, he examines what is fit for the judge in this case to do. “Whether,” says he, “may the judge give the palm to which of them he will, because they both happen to be so familiar to him, that he would in some sort seem to bestow on them somewhat of his own? Or rather, since the palm is common to both, may it be, as if lots had been cast, given to either, according to the inclination he chances to have? I say the inclination he chances to have, as when two groats, every way else alike, being presented to us, we incline to one of them and take it.” And in his Sixth Book of Duties, having said that there are some things not worthy of much study or attention, he thinks we ought, as if we had cast lots, to commit the choice of those things to the casual inclination of the mind: “As if,” says he, “of those who try the same two groats in a certain time, some should say this and others that to be good, and there being no more cause for the taking of one than the other, we should leave off making any farther enquiry into their value, and take that which chances to come first to hand; thus casting the lot (as it were) according to some hidden principle, and being in danger of choosing the worse of them.” For in these passages, the casting of lots and the casual inclining of the mind, which is without any cause, introduce the choice of indifferent things.

24. In his Third Book of Dialectics, having said that Plato, Aristotle, and those who came after them, even to Polemon and Straton, but especially Socrates, diligently studied dialectics, and having cried out that one would even choose to err with such and so great men as these, he brings in these words: “For if they had spoken of these things cursorily, one might perhaps have cavilled at this place; but having treated of dialectic skill as one of the greatest and most necessary faculties, it is not probable they should have been so much mistaken, having been such in all the parts of philosophy as we esteem them.” Why then (might some one say to him) do you never cease to oppose and argue against such and so great men, as if you thought them to err in the principal and greatest matters? For it is not probable that they writ seriously of dialectics, and only transitorily and in sport of the beginning, end, Gods, and justice, in which you affirm their discourse to be blind and contradictory to itself, and to have a thousand other faults.

25. In one place he says, that the vice called Ἐπιχαιρεκακία, or the rejoicing at other men’s harms, has no being; since no good man ever rejoiced at another’s evils. But in his Second Book of Good, having declared envy to be a sorrow at other men’s good,—to wit, in such as desire the depression of their neighbors that themselves may excel,—he joins to it this rejoicing at other men’s harms, saying thus: “To this is contiguous the rejoicing at other men’s harms, in such as for like causes desire to have their neighbors low; but in those that are turned according to other natural motions, is engendered mercy.” For he manifestly admits the joy at other men’s harms to be subsistent, as well as envy and mercy; though in other places he affirms it to have no subsistence; as he does also the hatred of wickedness, and the desire of dishonest gain.

26. Having in many places said, that those who have a long time been happy are nothing more so, but equally and in like manner with those who have but a moment been partakers of felicity, he has again in many other places affirmed, that it is not fit to stretch out so much as a finger for the obtaining momentary prudence, which flies away like a flash of lightning. It will be sufficient to set down what is to this purpose written by him in his Sixth Book of Moral Questions. For having said, that neither does every good thing equally cause joy, nor every good deed the like glorying, he subjoins these words: “For if a man should have wisdom only for a moment of time or the last minute of life, he ought not so much as to stretch out his finger for such a short-lived prudence.” And yet men are neither more happy for being longer so, nor is eternal felicity more eligible than that which lasts but a moment. If he had indeed held prudence to be a good, producing felicity, as Epicurus thought, one should have blamed only the absurdity and the paradoxicalness of this opinion; but since prudence of itself is not another thing differing from felicity, but felicity itself, how is it not a contradiction to say, that momentary happiness is equally desirable with eternal, and yet that momentary happiness is nothing worth?

27. Chrysippus also says, that the virtues follow one another, and that not only he who has one has all, but also that he who acts according to any one of them acts according to them all; and he affirms, that there is not any man perfect who is not possessed of all the virtues, nor any action perfect to the doing of which all the virtues do not concur. But yet in his Sixth Book of Moral Questions he says, that a good man does not always act valiantly, nor a vicious man always fearfully; for certain objects being presented to the fancies, the one must persist in his judgments, and the other depart from them; and he says that it is not probable a wicked man should be always indulging his lust. If then to act valiantly is the same thing as to use fortitude; and to act timorously as to yield to fear, they cannot but speak contradictions who say, that he who is possessed of either virtue or vice acts at the same time according to all the virtues or all the vices, and yet that a valiant man does not always act valiantly nor a vicious man timorously.

28. He defines Rhetoric to be an art concerning the ornament and the ordering of a discourse that is pronounced. And farther in his First Book he has written thus: “And I am not only of opinion that a regard ought to be had to a liberal and simple adorning of words, but also that care is to be taken for proper delivery, as regards the right elevation of the voice and the compositions of the countenance and hands.” Yet he, who is in this place so curious and exact, again in the same book, speaking of the collision of the vowels, says: “We ought not only to let these things pass, minding somewhat that is better, but also to neglect certain obscurities and defects, nay, solecisms also, of which others, and those not a few, would be ashamed.” Certainly, in one place to allow those who would speak eloquently so carefully to dispose their speech as even to observe a decorum in the very composition of their mouth and hands, and in another place to forbid the taking care of defects and obscurities, and the being ashamed even of committing solecisms, is the property of a man who little cares what he says, but rashly utters whatever comes first into his mouth.

29. Moreover, in his Natural Positions having warned us not to trouble ourselves but to be at quiet about such things as require experience and investigation, he says: “Let us not think after the same manner with Plato, that liquid nourishment is conveyed to the lungs, and dry to the stomach; nor let us embrace other errors like to these.” Now it is my opinion, that to reprehend others, and then not to keep one’s self from falling into those things which one has reprehended, is the greatest of contradictions and shamefullest of errors. But he says, that the connections made by ten axioms amount to above a million in number, having neither searched diligently into it by himself nor attained to the truth by men experienced in it. Yet Plato had to testify for him the most renowned of the physicians, Hippocrates, Philistion, and Dioxippus the disciple of Hippocrates; and of the poets, Euripides, Alcaeus, Eupolis, and Eratosthenes, who all say that the drink passes through the lungs. But all the arithmeticians refel Chrysippus, amongst whom also is Hipparchus, demonstrating that the error of his computation is very great; since the affirmative makes of the ten axioms one hundred and three thousand forty and nine connections, and the negative three hundred and ten thousand nine hundred fifty and two.

30. Some of the ancients have said, that the same befell Zeno which befalls him who has sour wine which he can sell neither for vinegar nor wine; for his “things preferred,” as he called them, cannot be disposed of, either as good or as indifferent. But Chrysippus has made the matter yet far more intricate; for he sometimes says, that they are mad who make no account of riches, health, freedom from pain, and integrity of the body, nor take any care to attain them; and having cited that sentence of Hesiod,

Work hard, O God-born Perses,[197]

he cries out, that it would be a madness to advise the contrary and say.

Work not, O God-born Perses.

And in his book of Lives he affirms, that a wise man will for the sake of gain live with kings, and teach for money, receiving from some of his scholars his reward beforehand, and making contract with others of them; and in his Seventh Book of Duties he says, that he will not scruple to turn his heels thrice over his head, if for so doing he may have a talent. In his First Book of Good Things, he yields and grants to those that desire it to call these preferred things good and their contraries evil, in these very words: “Any one who will, according to these permutations, may call one thing good and another evil, having a regard to the things themselves, and not wandering elsewhere, not failing in the understanding of the things signified, and in the rest accommodating himself to custom in the denomination.” Having thus in this place set his preferred things so near to good, and mixed them therewith, he again says, that none of these things belongs at all to us, but that reason withdraws and averts us from all such things; for he has written thus in his First Book of Exhortations. And in his Third Book of Nature he says, that some esteem those happy who reign and are rich, which is all one as if those should be reputed happy who make water in golden chamber-pots and wear golden fringes; but to a good man the losing of his whole estate is but as the losing of one groat, and the being sick no more than if he had stumbled. Wherefore he has not filled virtue only, but Providence also, with these contradictions. For virtue would seem to the utmost degree sordid and foolish, if it should busy itself about such matters, and enjoin a wise man for their sake to sail to Bosphorus or tumble with his heels over his head. And Jupiter would be very ridiculous to be styled Ctesius, Epicarpius, and Charitodotes, because forsooth he gives the wicked golden chamber-pots and golden fringes, and the good such things as are hardly worth a groat, when through Jupiter’s providence they become rich. And yet much more ridiculous is Apollo, if he sits to give oracles concerning golden fringes and chamber-pots and the recovering of a stumble.

31. But they make this repugnancy yet more evident by their demonstration. For they say, that what may be used both well and ill, the same is neither good nor bad; but fools make an ill use of riches, health, and strength of body; therefore none of these is good. If therefore God gives not virtue to men,—but honesty is eligible of itself,—and yet bestows on them riches and health without virtue, he confers them on those who will use them not well but ill, that is hurtfully, shamefully, and perniciously. Now, if the Gods can bestow virtue and do not, they are not good; but if they cannot make men good, neither can they help them, for except virtue nothing is good and helpful. Now to judge those who are otherwise made good according to virtue and strength ... is nothing to the purpose, for good men also judge the Gods according to virtue and strength; so that they do no more aid men than they are aided by them.

Now Chrysippus neither professes himself nor any one of his disciples and teachers to be virtuous. What then do they think of others, but those things which they say,—that they are all mad, fools, impious, transgressors of the laws, and in the utmost degree of misery and unhappiness? And yet they say that our affairs, though we act thus miserably, are governed by the providence of the Gods. Now if the Gods, changing their minds, should desire to hurt, afflict, overthrow, and quite crush us, they could not put us in a worse condition than we already are; as Chrysippus demonstrates that life can admit no greater degree either of misery or of unhappiness; so that if it had a voice, it would pronounce these words of Hercules:

I am so full of miseries, there is No place to stow them in.[198]

Now who can imagine any assertions more repugnant to one another than that of Chrysippus concerning the Gods and that concerning men; when he says, that the Gods do in the best manner possible provide for men, and yet men are in the worst condition imaginable?

32. Some of the Pythagoreans blame him for having in his book of Justice written concerning cocks, that they are usefully procreated, because they awaken us from our sleep, hunt out scorpions, and animate us to battle, breeding in us a certain emulation to show courage; and yet that we must eat them, lest the number of chickens should be greater than were expedient. But he so derides those who blame him for this, that he has written thus concerning Jupiter the Savior and Creator, the father of justice, equity, and peace, in his Third Book of the Gods: “As cities over-charged with too great a number of citizens send forth colonies into other places and make war upon some, so does God give the beginnings of corruption.” And he brings in Euripides for a witness, with others who say, that the Trojan war was caused by the Gods, to exhaust the multitude of men.

But letting pass their other absurdities (for our design is not to enquire what they have said amiss, but only what they have said dissonantly to themselves), consider how he always attributes to the Gods specious and kind appellations, but at the same time cruel, barbarous, and Galatian deeds. For those so great slaughters and carnages, as were the productions of the Trojan war and again of the Persian and Peloponnesian, were no way like to colonies unless these men know of some cities built in hell and under the earth. But Chrysippus makes God like to Deïotarus, the Galatian king, who having many sons, and being desirous to leave his kingdom and house to one of them, killed all the rest; as he that cuts and prunes away all the other branches from the vine, that one which he leaves remaining may grow strong and great. And yet the vine-dresser does this, the sprigs being slender and weak; and we, to favor a bitch, take from her many of her new-born puppies, whilst they are yet blind. But Jupiter, having not only suffered and seen men to grow up, but having also both created and increased them, plagues them afterwards, devising occasions of their destruction and corruption; whereas he should rather not have given them any causes and beginnings of generation.

33. However this is but a small matter; but that which follows is greater. For there is no war amongst men without vice. But sometimes the love of pleasure, sometimes the love of money, and sometimes the love of glory and rule is the cause of it. If therefore God is the author of wars, he must be also of sins, provoking and perverting men. And yet himself says in his treatise of Judgment and his Second Book of the Gods, that it is no way rational to say that the Divinity is in any respect the cause of dishonesty. For as the law can in no way be the cause of transgression, so neither can the Gods of being impious; therefore neither is it rational that they should be the causes of any thing that is filthy. What therefore can be more filthy to men than the mutual killing of one another?—to which Chrysippus says that God gives beginnings. But some one perhaps will say, that he elsewhere praises Euripides for saying.

If Gods do aught dishonest, they’re no Gods;

and again,

’Tis a most easy thing t’ accuse the Gods;[199]

as if we were now doing any thing else than setting down such words and sentences of his as are repugnant to one another.

34. Yet that very thing which is now praised may be objected, not once or twice or thrice, but even ten thousand times, against Chrysippus:

’Tis a most easy thing t’ accuse the Gods.

For first having in his book of Nature compared the eternity of motion to a drink made of divers species confusedly mixed together, turning and jumbling the things that are made, some this way, others that way, he goes on thus. “Now the administration of the universe proceeding in this manner, it is of necessity we should be in the condition we are, whether contrary to our own nature we are sick or maimed, or whether we are grammarians or musicians.” And again a little after, “According to this reason we shall say the like of our virtue and vice, and generally of arts or the ignorance of arts, as I have said.” And a little after, taking away all ambiguity, he says: “For no particular thing, not even the least, can be otherwise than according to common Nature and its reason.” But that common Nature and the common reason of Nature are with him Fate and Providence and Jupiter, is not unknown even to the antipodes. For these things are everywhere inculcated by the Stoics; and Chrysippus affirms that Homer said very well,

Jove’s purposes were ripening,[200]

having respect to Fate and the Nature of the universe, according to which every thing is governed. How then do these agree, both that God is no way the cause of any dishonest thing, and again, that not even the least thing imaginable can be otherwise done than according to common Nature and its reason? For amongst all things that are done, there must of necessity be also dishonest things attributed to the Gods. And though Epicurus indeed turns himself every way, and studies artifices, devising how to deliver and set loose our voluntary free will from this eternal motion, that he may not leave vice irreprehensible; yet Chrysippus gives vice a most absolute liberty, as being done not only of necessity or according to Fate, but also according to the reason of God and best Nature. And these things are yet farther seen in what he says afterwards, being thus word for word: “For common Nature extending to all things, it will be of necessity that every thing, howsoever done in the whole or in any one soever of its parts, must be done according to this common Nature and its reason, proceeding on regularly without any impediment. For there is nothing without that can hinder the administration, nor is there any of the parts that can be moved or habituated otherwise than according to common Nature.” What then are these habits and motions of the parts? It is manifest, that the habits are vices and diseases, covetousness, luxury, ambition, cowardice, injustice; and that the motions are adulteries, thefts, treasons, murders, parricides. Of these Chrysippus thinks, that no one, either little or great, is contrary to the reason of Jupiter, or to his law, justice, and providence; so neither is the transgressing of the law done against the law, nor the acting unjustly against justice, nor the committing of sin against Providence.

35. And yet he says, that God punishes vice, and does many things for the chastising of the wicked. And in his Second Book of the Gods he says, that many adversities sometimes befall the good, not as they do the wicked, for punishment, but according to another dispensation, as it is in cities. And again in these words: “First we are to understand of evils in like manner as has been said before: then, that these things are distributed according to the reason of Jupiter, whether for punishment, or according to some other dispensation, having in some sort respect to the universe.” This therefore is indeed severe, that wickedness is both done and punished according to the reason of Jupiter. But he aggravates this contradiction in his Second Book of Nature, writing thus: “Vice, in reference to grievous accidents, has a certain reason of its own. For it is also in some sort according to the reason of Nature, and, as I may so say, is not wholly useless in respect of the universe. For otherwise also there would not be any good.” Thus does he reprehend those that dispute indifferently on both sides, who, out of a desire to say something wholly singular and more exquisite concerning every thing, affirms, that men do not unprofitably cut purses, calumniate, and play madmen, and that it is not unprofitable there should be unprofitable, hurtful, and unhappy persons. What manner of God then is Jupiter,—I mean Chrysippus’s Jupiter,—who punishes an act done neither willingly nor unprofitably? For vice is indeed, according to Chrysippus’s discourse, wholly reprehensible; but Jupiter is to be blamed, whether he has made vice which is an unprofitable thing, or, having made it not unprofitable, punishes it.

36. Again, in his First Book of Justice, having spoken of the Gods as resisting the injustices of some, he says: “But wholly to take away vice is neither possible nor expedient.” Whether it were not better that law-breaking, injustice, and folly should be taken away, is not the design of this present discourse to enquire. But he himself, as much as in him lies, by his philosophy taking away vice, which it is not expedient to take away, does something repugnant both to reason and God. Besides this, saying that God resists some injustices, he again declares plainly the impiety of sins.

37. Having often written that there is nothing reprehensible, nothing to be complained of in the world, all things being finished according to a most excellent nature, he again elsewhere leaves certain negligences to be reprehended, and those not concerning small or base matters. For having in his Third Book of Substance related that some such things befall honest and good men, he says: “Is it because some things are not regarded, as in great families some bran—yea, and some grains of corn also—are scattered, the generality being nevertheless well ordered; or is it that there are evil Genii set over those things in which there are real and faulty negligence?” And he also affirms that there is much necessity intermixed. I let pass, how inconsiderate it is to compare such accidents befalling honest and good men, as were the condemnation of Socrates, the burning of Pythagoras, whilst he was yet living, by the Cyloneans, the putting to death—and that with torture—of Zeno by the tyrant Demylus, and of Antiphon by Dionysius, with the letting of bran fall. But that there should be evil Genii placed by Providence over such charges,—how can it but be a reproach to God, as it would be to a king, to commit the administration of his provinces to evil and rash governors and captains, and suffer the best of his subjects to be despised and ill-treated by them? And furthermore, if there is much necessity mixed amongst affairs, then God has not power over them all, nor are they all administered according to his reason.

38. He contends much against Epicurus and those that take away providence from the conceptions we have of the Gods, whom we esteem beneficial and gracious to men. And these things being frequently said by them, there is no necessity of setting down the words. Yet all do not conceive the Gods to be good and favorable to us. For see what the Jews and Syrians think of the Gods; see also with how much superstition the poets are filled. But there is not any one, in a manner to speak of, that imagines God to be corruptible or to have been born. And to omit all others, Antipater the Tarsian, in his book of the Gods writes thus, word for word: “At the beginning of our discourse we will briefly repeat the opinion we have concerning God. We understand therefore God to be an animal, blessed and incorruptible, and beneficial to men.” And then expounding every one of these terms he says: “And indeed all men esteem the Gods to be incorruptible.” Chrysippus therefore is, according to Antipater, not one of “all men;” for he thinks none of the Gods, except Fire, to be incorruptible, but that they all equally were born and will die. These things are, in a manner, everywhere said by him. But I will set down his words out of his Third Book of the Gods: “It is otherwise with the Gods. For some of them are born and corruptible, but others not born. And to demonstrate these things from the beginning will be more fit for a treatise of Nature. For the Sun, the Moon, and other Gods who are of a like nature, were begotten; but Jupiter is eternal.” And again going on: “But the like will be said concerning dying and being born, both concerning the other Gods and Jupiter. For they indeed are corruptible, but his parts incorruptible.” With these I compare a few of the things said by Antipater: “Whosoever they are that take away from the Gods beneficence, they attack in some part our preconception of them; and according to the same reason they also do this, who think they participate of generation and corruption.” If then he who esteems the Gods corruptible is equally absurd with him who thinks them not to be provident and gracious to men, Chrysippus is no less in an error than Epicurus. For one of them deprives the Gods of beneficence, the other of incorruptibility.

39. And moreover, Chrysippus, in his Third Book of the Gods treating of the other Gods being nourished, says thus: “The other Gods indeed use nourishment, being equally sustained by it; but Jupiter and the World are sustained after another manner from those who are consumed and were engendered by fire.” Here indeed he declares, that all the other Gods are nourished except the World and Jupiter; but in his First Book of Providence he says: “Jupiter increases till he has consumed all things into himself. For since death is the separation of the soul from the body, and the soul of the World is not indeed separated, but increases continually till it has consumed all matter into itself, it is not to be said that the World dies.” Who can therefore appear to speak things more contradictory to himself than he who says that the same God is now nourished and again not nourished? Nor is there any need of gathering this by argument; for himself has plainly written in the same place: “But the World alone is said to be self-sufficient, because it alone has in itself all things it stands in need of, and is nourished and augmented of itself, the other parts being mutually changed into one another.” He is then repugnant to himself, not only by declaring in one place that all the Gods are nourished except the World and Jupiter, and saying in another, that the World also is nourished; but much more, when he affirms that the World increases by nourishing itself. Now the contrary had been much more probable, to wit, that the World alone does not increase, having its own destruction for its food; but that addition and increase are incident to the other Gods, who are nourished from without, and the World is rather consumed into them, if so it is that the World feeds on itself, and they always receive something and are nourished from that.

40. Secondly, the conception of the Gods contains in it felicity, blessedness, and self-perfection. Wherefore also Euripides is commended for saying:

For God, if truly God, does nothing want, And all these speeches are but poets’ cant.[201]

But Chrysippus in the places I have alleged says, that the World only is self-sufficient, because this alone has in itself all things it needs. What then follows from this, that the World alone is self-sufficient? That neither the Sun, Moon, nor any other of the Gods is self-sufficient, and not being self-sufficient, they cannot be happy or blessed.

41. He says, that the infant in the womb is nourished by Nature, like a plant; but when it is brought forth, being cooled and hardened by the air, it changes its spirit and becomes an animal; whence the soul is not unfitly named Psyche because of this refrigeration (ψύχειν). But again he esteems the soul the more subtile and fine spirit of Nature, therein contradicting himself; for how can a subtile thing be made of a gross one, and be rarefied by refrigeration and condensation? And what is more, how does he, declaring an animal to be made by refrigeration, think the sun to be animated, which is of fire and made of an exhalation changed into fire? For he says in his Third Book of Nature: “Now the change of fire is such, that it is turned by the air into water; and the earth subsiding from this, the air exhales; the air being subtilized, the ether is produced round about it; and the stars are, with the sun, kindled from the sea.” Now what is more contrary to kindling than refrigeration, or to rarefaction than condensation? For the one makes water and earth of fire and air, and the other changes that which is moist and earthy into fire and air. But yet in one place he makes kindling, in another cooling, to be the beginning of animation. And he moreover says, that when the inflammation is throughout, it lives and is an animal, but being again extinct and thickened, it is turned into water and earth and corporeity. Now in his First Book of Providence he says: “For the world, indeed, being wholly set on fire, is presently also the soul and guide of itself; but when it is changed into moisture, and has changed the soul remaining within it in some sort into a body and soul, so as to consist of these two, it is then after another manner.” Here, forsooth, he plainly says, that the inanimate parts of the world are by inflammation turned into an animated thing, and that again by extinction the soul is relaxed and moistened, being changed into corporeity. He seems therefore very absurd, one while by refrigeration making animals of senseless things, and again, by the same changing the greatest part of the world’s soul into senseless and inanimate things.

But besides this, his discourse concerning the generation of the soul has a demonstration contrary to his own opinion; for he says, that the soul is generated when the infant is already brought forth, the spirit being changed by refrigeration, as by hardening. Now for the soul’s being engendered, and that after the birth, he chiefly uses this demonstration, that the children are for the most part in manners and inclinations like to their parents. Now the repugnancy of these things is evident. For it is not possible that the soul, which is not generated till after the birth, should have its inclination before the birth; or it will fall out that the soul is like before it is generated; that is, it will be in likeness, and yet not be, because it is not yet generated. But if any one says that, the likeness being bred in the tempers of the bodies, the souls are changed when they are generated, he destroys the argument of the soul’s being generated. For thus it may come to pass, that the soul, though not generated, may at its entrance into the body be changed by the mixture of likeness.

42. He says sometimes, that the air is light and mounts upwards, and sometimes, that it is neither heavy nor light. For in his Second Book of Motion he says, that the fire, being without gravity, ascends upwards, and the air like to that; the water approaching more to the earth, and the air to the fire. But in his Physical Arts he inclines to the other opinion, that the air of itself has neither gravity nor levity.

43. He says that the air is by nature dark, and uses this as an argument of its being also the first cold; for that its darkness is opposite to the brightness, and its coldness to the heat of fire. Moving this in his First Book of Natural Questions, he again in his treatise of Habits says, that habits are nothing else but airs; for bodies are contained by these, and the cause that every one of the bodies contained in any habit is such as it is, is the containing air, which they call in iron hardness, in stone solidness, in silver whiteness. These words have in them much absurdity and contradiction. For if the air remains such as it is of its own nature, how comes black, in that which is not white, to be made whiteness; and soft, in that which is not hard, to be made hardness; and rare, in that which is not thick, to be made thickness? But if, being mixed with these, it is altered and made like to them, how is it a habit or power or cause of these things by which it is subdued? For such a change, by which it loses its own qualities, is the property of a patient, not of an agent, and not of a thing containing, but of a thing languishing. Yet they everywhere affirm, that matter, being of its own nature idle and motionless, is subjected to qualities, and that the qualities are spirits, which, being also aërial tensions, give a form and figure to every part of matter to which they adhere. These things they cannot rationally say, supposing the air to be such as they affirm it. For if it is a habit and tension, it will assimilate every body to itself, so that it shall be black and soft. But if by the mixture with these things it receives forms contrary to those it has, it will be in some sort the matter, and not the cause or power of matter.

44. It is often said by Chrysippus, that there is without the world an infinite vacuum, and that this infinity has neither beginning, middle, nor end. And by this the Stoics chiefly refute that spontaneous motion of the atoms downward, which is taught by Epicurus; there not being in infinity any difference according to which one thing is thought to be above, another below. But in his Fourth Book of Things Possible, having supposed a certain middle place and middle region, he says that the world is situated there. The words are these: “Wherefore, if it is to be said of the world that it is corruptible, this seems to want proof; yet nevertheless it rather appears to me to be so. However, its occupation of the place wherein it stands co-operates very much towards its seeming to be incorruptible, because it is in the midst; since if it were thought to be anywhere else, corruption would absolutely take hold of it.” And again, a little after: “For so also in a manner has essence happened eternally to possess the middle place, being immediately from the beginning such as it is; so that both by another manner and through this chance it admits not any corruption, and is therefore eternal.” These words have one apparent and visible contradiction, to wit, his admitting a certain middle place and middle region in infinity. They have also a second, more obscure indeed, but withal more absurd than this. For thinking that the world would not have remained incorruptible if its situation had happened to have been in any other part of the vacuum, he manifestly appears to have feared lest, the parts of essence moving towards the middle, there should be a dissolution and corruption of the world. Now this he would not have feared, had he not thought that bodies do by nature tend from every place towards the middle, not of essence, but of the region containing essence; of which also he has frequently spoken, as of a thing impossible and contrary to Nature; for that (as he says) there is not in the vacuum any difference by which bodies are drawn rather this way than that way, but the construction of the world is the cause of motion, bodies inclining and being carried from every side to the centre and middle of it. It is sufficient to this purpose, to set down the text out of his Second Book of Motion; for having discoursed, that the world indeed is a perfect body, but that the parts of the world are not perfect, because they have in some sort respect to the whole and are not of themselves; and going forward concerning its motion, as having been framed by Nature to be moved by all its parts towards compaction and cohesion, and not towards dissolution and breaking, he says thus: “But the universe thus tending and being moved to the same point, and the parts having the same motion from the nature of the body, it is probable that all bodies have this first motion according to Nature towards the centre of the world,—the world being thus moved as regards itself, and the parts being thus moved as being its parts.” What then ailed you, good sir (might some one say to him), that you have so far forgotten those words, as to affirm that the world, if it had not casually possessed the middle place, would have been dissoluble and corruptible? For if it is by Nature so framed as always to incline towards the middle, and its parts from every side tend to the same, into what place soever of the vacuum it should have been transposed,—thus containing and (as it were) embracing itself,—it would have remained incorruptible and without danger of breaking. For things that are broken and dissipated suffer this by the separation and dissolution of their parts, every one of them hasting to its own place from that which it had contrary to Nature. But you, being of opinion that, if the world should have been seated in any other place of the vacuum, it would have been wholly liable to corruption, and affirming the same, and therefore asserting a middle in that which naturally can have no middle,—to wit, in that which is infinite,—have indeed dismissed these tensions, coherences, and inclinations, as having nothing available to its preservation, and attributed all the cause of its permanency to the possession of place. And, as if you were ambitious to confute yourself, to the things you have said before you join this also: “In whatsoever manner every one of the parts moves, being coherent to the rest, it is agreeable to reason that in the same also the whole should move by itself; yea, though we should, for argument’s sake, imagine and suppose it to be in some vacuity of this world; for as, being kept in on every side, it would move towards the middle, so it would continue in the same motion, though by way of disputation we should admit that there were on a sudden a vacuum round about it.” No part then whatsoever, though encompassed by a vacuum, loses its inclination moving it towards the middle of the world; but the world itself, if chance had not prepared it a place in the middle, would have lost its containing vigor, the parts of its essence being carried some one way, some another.

45. And these things indeed contain great contradictions to natural reason; but this is also repugnant to the doctrine concerning God and Providence, that assigning to them the least causes, he takes from them the most principal and greatest. For what is more principal than the permanency of the world, or that its essence, united in its parts, is contained in itself? But this, as Chrysippus says, fell out casually. For if the possession of place is the cause of incorruptibility, and this was the production of chance, it is manifest that the preservation of the universe is a work of chance, and not of Fate and Providence.

46. Now, as for his doctrine of possibles, how can it but be repugnant to his doctrine of Fate? For if that is not possible which either is true or shall be true, as Diodorus has it, but every thing which is capable of being, though it never shall be, is possible, there will be many things possible which will never be according to invincible, inviolable, and all-conquering Fate. And thus either Fate will lose its power; or if that, as Chrysippus thinks, has existence, that which is susceptible of being will often fall out to be impossible. And every thing indeed which is true will be necessary, being comprehended by the principal of all necessities; and every thing that is false will be impossible, having the greatest cause to oppose its ever being true. For how is it possible that he should be susceptible of dying on the land, who is destined to die at sea? And how is it possible for him who is at Megara to come to Athens, if he is prohibited by Fate?

47. But moreover, the things that are boldly asserted by him concerning fantasies or imaginations are very opposite to Fate. For desiring to show that fantasy is not of itself a perfect cause of consent, he says, that the Sages will prejudice us by imprinting false imaginations in our minds if fantasies do of themselves absolutely cause consent; for wise men often make use of falsity against the wicked, representing a probable imagination,—which is yet not the cause of consent, for then it would be also a cause of false apprehension and error. Any one therefore, transferring these things from the wise man to Fate, may say, that consents are not caused by Fate; for if they were, false consents and opinions and deceptions would also be by Fate, and men would be endamaged by Fate. Thus the reason which exempts the wise man from doing hurt also demonstrates at the same time that Fate is not the cause of all things. For if men neither opine nor are prejudiced by Fate, it is manifest also that they neither act rightly nor are wise nor remain firm in their sentiments nor have utility by Fate, but that there is an end of Fate’s being the cause of all things. Now if any one shall say that Chrysippus makes not Fate the absolute cause of all things, but only a procatarctical (or antecedent) one, he will again show that he is contradictory to himself, since he excessively praises Homer for saying of Jupiter,

Receive whatever ill or good He sends to each of you;[202]

as also Euripides for these words,

O Jove, how can I say that wretched we, Poor mortals, aught do understand? On thee We all depend, and nothing can transact, But as thy sacred wisdom shall enact.[203]

And himself writes many things agreeable to these. In fine, he says that nothing, be it never so little, either rests or is moved otherwise than according to the reason of Jupiter, which is the same thing with Fate. Moreover, the antecedent cause is weaker than the absolute one, and attains not to its effect when it is subdued by others that rise up against it. But he himself, declaring Fate to be an invincible, unimpeachable, and inflexible cause, calls it Atropos,[204] Adrasteia,[205] Necessity, and Pepromene (as putting a limit to all things). Whether then shall we say, that neither consents nor virtues nor vices nor doing well nor doing ill is in our power? Or shall we affirm, that Fate is deficient, that terminating destiny is unable to determine, and that the motions and habits of Jupiter cannot accomplish? For the one of these two consequences will follow from Fate’s being an absolute, the other from its being only antecedent cause. For if it is an absolute cause, it takes away our free will and leaves nothing in our power; and if it is only antecedent, it loses its being unimpeachable and effectual. For not once or ten times, but everywhere, especially in his Physics, he has written, that there are many obstacles and impediments to particular natures and motions, but none to that of the universe. And how can the motion of the universe, extending as it does to particular ones, be undisturbed and unimpeached, if these are stopped and hindered? For neither can the nature of man be free from impediment, if that of the foot or hand is not so; nor can the motion of a ship but be hindered, if there are any obstacles about the sails or the operation of the oars.

Besides all this, if the fantasies are not according to Fate, neither are they causes of consents; but if, because it imprints fantasies leading to consent, the consents are said to be according to Fate, how is it not contrary to itself, imprinting in the greatest matters different imaginations and such as draw the understanding contrary ways? For (they say) those who adhere to one of them, and withhold not their consent, do amiss: if they yield to obscure things, they stumble; if to false, they are deceived; if to such as are not commonly comprehended, they opine. And yet one of these three is of necessity,—either that every fantasy is not the work of Fate, or that every receipt and consent of fantasy is faultless, or that Fate itself is not irreprehensible. For I do not know how it can be blameless, proposing to us such fantasies that not the resisting or going against them, but the following and yielding to them, is blamable. Moreover, both Chrysippus and Antipater, in their disputes against the Academics, take not a little pains to prove that we neither act nor are incited without consent, saying, that they build on fictions and false suppositions who think that, a proper fantasy being presented, we are presently incited, without having either yielded or consented. Again, Chrysippus says, that God imprints in us false imaginations, as does also the wise man; not that they would have us consent or yield to them, but only that we should act and be incited with regard to that which appears; but we, being evil, do through infirmity consent to such fantasies. Now the perplexity and discrepancy of these discourses among themselves are not very difficult to be discerned. For he that would not have men consent but only act according to the fantasies which he presents unto them—whether he be God or a wise man—knows that the fantasies are sufficient for acting, and that consents are superfluous. For if, knowing that the imagination gives us not an instinct to work without consent, he ministers to us false and probable fantasies, he is the voluntary cause of our falling and erring by assenting to incomprehensible things.

OF THE WORD ΕΙ ENGRAVEN OVER THE GATE OF APOLLO’S TEMPLE AT DELPHI.

AMMONIUS, LAMPRIAS, PLUTARCH, THEON, EUSTROPHUS, NICANDER.

1. I happened not long since, dear Serapion, on certain not unelegant verses, which Dicaearchus supposes Euripides to have spoken to King Archelaus.

I’m poor, you rich, I’ll therefore nothing give; Lest me or fool or beggar you believe.

For he who out of his little estate makes small presents to those that have great possessions does them no pleasure; nay, being not believed to give even that little for nothing, he incurs the suspicion of being of a sordid and ungenerous disposition. But since pecuniary presents are both in bounty and beauty far inferior to such as proceed from learning and wisdom, it is honorable both to make such presents, and at our giving them, to desire suitable returns from the receivers. I therefore, sending to you,—and through you to our friends in those parts,—as a first-fruit offering, some discourses concerning the Pythian affairs, confess that I do in requital expect others, both more and better, from you, as being persons conversant in a great city, and enjoying more leisure amongst many books and conferences of all sorts. For indeed our good Apollo seems to cure and solve such difficulties as occur in the ordinary management of our life, by giving his oracles to those that resort to him; but as for those which concern learning, he leaves and proposes them to that faculty of the soul which is naturally addicted to the study of philosophy, imprinting in it a desire leading to truth; as is manifest both in many other matters, and in the consecration of this inscription ΕΙ. For it is not probable, that it was by chance or by a lottery (as it were) of letters that this word alone was placed in the principal seat in the God’s temple, and received the dignity of a sacred donary and spectacle; but it is highly credible that those who at the beginning philosophized concerning this God gave it that station, either as seeing it in some peculiar and extraordinary power, or using it as a symbol to signify some other thing worthy of our attention.

Having therefore often formerly declined and avoided this discourse, when proposed in the school, I was lately surprised by my own children as I was debating with certain strangers, who were on their departure out of Delphi, so that I could not in civility hold them in suspense nor yet refuse discoursing with them, since they were exceeding earnest to hear something. Being therefore set down by the temple, I began myself to search into some things, and to ask them concerning others, being by the place and the very talk put in mind of those things we had heretofore, when Nero passed through these parts, heard Ammonius and some others discourse; the same difficulty having been then likewise in this very place propounded.

2. Since therefore this God is no less a philosopher than a prophet, Ammonius seemed to all of us rightly to apply every one of his names to this purpose, and to teach that he is Pythius (or a questionist) to those who begin to learn and enquire; Delius and Phanaeus (or a manifester and prover) to those to whom somewhat of the truth is already manifest and shines forth; Ismenius (or knowing) to those that have acquired knowledge; and Leschenorius (or discoursing) when they practise and enjoy their science, making use of it to discourse and philosophize with one another. Now, forasmuch as to philosophize implies to enquire, to wonder, and to doubt, it is probable (he said) that many of the things that concern God are not unfitly concealed under enigmas, and require that one should ask the reason why, and seek to be instructed in the causes,—as, why of all wood fir only is burnt in the eternal fire, why the laurel only is used in fumigations, why there are erected but two statues of the Fates, they being everywhere else thought to be three, why no woman is permitted to have access to the oracle, what is the reason of the tripod, and other such like things, which, being proposed to those who are not altogether irrational and soulless, allure and incite them to consider, hear, and discourse something about them. And do but behold how many questions these inscriptions, “Know thyself” and “Nothing too much,” have set afoot amongst the philosophers, and what a multitude of discourses has sprung up from each of them, as from a seed; than neither of which, I think the matter now in question to be less fruitful.

3. Ammonius having spoken thus, Lamprias the Delphian said: The reason indeed which we have heard of this is plain and very short; for they say that those Sages, who were by some called Sophisters, were but five, Chilo, Thales, Solon, Bias, and Pittacus. But after that Cleobulus the tyrant of the Lindians, and Periander the Corinthian, though wholly destitute of virtue and wisdom, had by their power, friends, and courtesy forced a reputation, they usurped the name of Sages, and set forth and dispersed all over Greece certain sentences and sayings, not unlike to those which had been spoken by the five former wise men. The five, however, being discontented at this, would not reprove their arrogancy, nor openly contest and enter into quarrels for glory with men of so great power; but assembling here together, and consulting with one another, they consecrated the letter Ε, which is in the order of the alphabet the fifth, and signifies five in number, protesting of themselves before the God that they were but five, and rejecting and abdicating the sixth and seventh as not belonging to them. Now that these things are not spoken beside the cushion, any one might understand who should have heard those who have care of the temple naming the golden ΕΙ the ΕΙ of Livia, the wife of Augustus Caesar; and the brazen one the ΕΙ of the Athenians; but the first and ancientest of all, which is the wooden one, they call the ΕΙ of the Sages, as not being of any one, but the common dedication of them all.

4. At this Ammonius gently smiled, supposing Lamprias to have delivered an opinion of his own, but to have feigned that he had heard the story from others, lest he might be obliged to give an account of it. But another of those that were present said that this had some affinity with what a certain Chaldean stranger had lately babbled, to wit, that there are in the alphabet seven letters rendering a perfect sound of themselves, and in the heavens seven stars moved by their own proper motion, not bound or linked to that of the others; that Ε is from the beginning the second in order of the vowels, and the sun the second of the planets, or next to the moon, and that the Greeks do unanimously (so to speak) repute Apollo to be the same with the sun. But these things, said he, wholly savor of his counting-table and his trifling. But Lamprias, it seems, was not sensible of his having stirred up all those of the temple against his discourse. For there was not a man of the Delphians who knew any thing of what he said; but they all alleged the common and current opinion, holding that neither the sight nor the sound of this writing, but the word alone as it was written, contained some symbol or secret signification.

5. For the syllable ΕΙ (if) is, as the Delphians conceive it, and as Nicander the priest (who was then present) also said, a conveyance and form of prayer to the God, and has the leading place in the questions of those who at every turn use it, asking if they shall overcome, if they shall marry, if it is convenient to go to sea, if to till the ground, if to travel. And the wise God, bidding adieu to the logicians, who think nothing at all can be made of this particle ΕΙ and any clause following it, understands and admits all interrogations annexed to it, as real things. Now, because it is proper for us to consult him as a prophet, and common to pray to him as a God, they suppose that this word has no less a precatory than an interrogatory power. For every one who prays or wishes says, εἰ γὰρ ὤφελον, O if I were, &c. And Archilochus has also this expression:

If I might be so happy as to touch My Neobule’s hand.

And they say that the second syllable in the word εἴθε is redundant like θήν in this of Sophron, Ἃμα τέκνων θὴν δευομένα, desiring also children; and in this of Homer, Ὡς θὴν καὶ σὸν ἐγὼ λύσω μένος, as I will also foil thy strength; but in the word ΕΙ there is sufficiently declared an optative power.

6. Nicander having delivered these words, our friend Theon, whom you know, asked Ammonius if he might have liberty to plead for logic, which was so highly injured. And Ammonius bidding him speak and defend it, he said: Now that this God is a most expert logician many of his oracles show; for it is, to wit, the part of the same artist to dissolve and frame ambiguities. Moreover, as Plato said, when an oracle was given to the Greeks that they should double the altar in Delos, which is a work of the utmost perfection in geometry, that the God did not order the doing of that very thing, but commanded the Greeks to apply themselves to geometry; so the same God, by giving ambiguous oracles, honors and recommends logic, as necessary to those who desire to understand him aright. Now this conjunction ΕΙ, or if, has a very great efficacy in logic, as forming the most rational proposition; for how can it be otherwise, since the very brutes have indeed the knowledge of the substance of things, but to man only has Nature given the consideration and judgment of consequence? For that there is both day and light, wolves and dogs and birds are sensible. But that if it is day there must be light, no other animal understands but man, who only has the conception of antecedent and consequent, of the significance and connection of these things with one another, and of their habitude and difference, from which demonstrations take their principal beginnings. Now since philosophy is conversant about truth, since the light of truth is demonstration, and the beginning of demonstration this connection of propositions; the faculty which contains and effects this was by wise men, with good reason, consecrated to the God who most of all loves truth. Now the God indeed is a prophet, and the art of prophesying is a divination concerning the future from things that are present and past. For neither is the original of any thing without a cause, nor the foreknowledge of any thing without reason. But since all things that are done follow and are connected to those that have been done, and those that shall be done to those that are done, according to the progress proceeding from the beginning to the end; he who knows how to look into the causes of this together, and naturally connect them one with another, knows also and divines

What things now are, shall be, or e’er have been.[206]

And Homer indeed excellently well places first things that are present, and afterwards what is future and past. For by the very nature of the connection the argument is based on that which now is. Thus, “if this is, that preceded;” and again, “if this is, that shall be.” For the knowledge of the consequence is, as has been said, an artificial and rational thing; but sense gives the assumption to reason. Whence (though it may seem indecent to say it) I will not be afraid to aver this, that the tripod of truth is reason, which recognizes the dependence of the consequent on the antecedent, and then, assuming the reality of the antecedent, infers the conclusion of the demonstration. If then the Pythian Apollo delights in music, and is pleased with the singing of swans and the harmony of the lute, what wonder is it that, for the sake of logic, he embraces and loves this argumentative particle, which he sees the philosophers so much and so frequently to use? Hercules indeed, not having yet unbound Prometheus, nor conversed with the sophisters that were with Chiron and Atlas, but being still a young man and a plain Boeotian, at first abolished logic and derided this word ΕΙ; but afterwards he seemed by force to have seized on the tripod, and contended with our God himself for the pre-eminence in this art; for being grown up in age, he appeared to be the most expert both in divination and logic.

7. Theon having ended his speech, I think it was Eustrophus the Athenian who said to us: Do you not see how valiantly Theon vindicates logic, having, in a manner, got on the lion’s skin? So it is not right even for us—who comprehensively place all the affairs, nature, and principles of things both divine and human in number, and make it most especially the author and lord of honest and estimable things—to be at quiet, but we must willingly offer the first-fruits of our dear mathematics to the God; since we think that this letter Ε does not of itself differ from the other letters either in power, figure, or expression, but that it has been preferred as being the sign of that great number which has an influence over all things, called the Quinary (or Pemptas), from which the Sages have expressed the art of numbering by the verb πεμπτάζειν (signifying to account by fives). Now Eustrophus spake these things to us, not in jest, but because I did at that time studiously apply myself to the mathematics, and perhaps also in every thing to honor that saying, “Nothing too much,” as having been conversant in the Academy.

BOOK IX. (part 14)

8. I answered therefore that Eustrophus has excellently solved the difficulty by number. For (said I) since all number is distributed into even and odd, unity is in efficacy common to them both,—for that being added to an even number, it makes it odd, and to an odd, it makes it even, two constituting the beginning of the even, and three of the odd. Now the number of five, composed of these two, is deservedly honored, as being the first compound made of the first simple numbers, and is called the marriage, for the resemblance of the odd with the male, and the even with the female. For in the divisions of the numbers into equal parts, the even, being wholly separated, leaves a certain capacious beginning and space in itself; but in the odd, suffering the same thing, there always remains a middle, of generative distribution, by which it is more fruitful than the other, and being mixed is always master, never mastered. For by the mixture of both, even and odd together, there is never produced an even number but always an odd. But which is more, either of them added to and compounded with itself shows the difference; for no even joined with another even ever produced an odd, or went forth of its proper nature, being through weakness unable to generate another and imperfect. But odd numbers mixed with odd do, through their being every way fruitful, produce many even ones. Time does not now permit us to set down the other powers and differences of numbers. Therefore have the Pythagoreans, through a certain resemblance, said that five is the marriage of the first male and the first female number. This also is it for which it is called Nature, by the multiplication of itself determining again into itself. For as Nature, taking a grain of wheat for seed and diffusing it, produces many forms and species between, by which she brings her work to an end, but at last she shows again a grain of wheat, restoring the beginning in the end of all; so, while the rest of the numbers, when they are multiplied into others, terminate by the increase only those of five and six, multiplied by themselves, bring back and preserve themselves. For six times six makes thirty-six, and five times five makes twenty-five. And again, six does this once, and only after one manner, to wit, when it is squared. But this indeed befalls five both by multiplication and by composition with itself, to which being added, it alternatively makes itself and ten; and this as far as all number can extend, this number imitating the beginning or first Cause which governs the universe. For as that first Cause, preserving the world by itself, does reciprocally perfect itself by the world, as Heraclitus says of fire,

Fire turns to all things, and all things to fire;

and as money is changed for gold, and gold for money; so the congress of five with itself is framed by Nature to produce nothing imperfect or strange, but has limited changes; for it either generates itself or ten, that is, either what is proper to itself, or what is perfect.

9. Now if any one shall say, What is all this to Apollo? we will answer, that it concerns not Apollo only, but Bacchus also, who has no less to do with Delphi than Apollo himself. For we have heard the divines, partly in verse partly in prose, saying and singing, that the God is of his own nature incorruptible and eternal, but yet, through a certain fatal decree and reason, suffers changes of himself, having sometimes his nature kindled into a fire, and making all things alike, and otherwhiles becoming various, in different shapes, passions, and powers, like unto the World, and is named by this best-known of names. But the wiser, concealing from the vulgar the change into fire, call him both Apollo from his unity[207] and Phoebus from his purity and unpollutedness. But as for the passion and change of his conversion into winds, water, earth, stars, and the various kinds of plants and animals, and its order and disposition, this they obscurely represent as a certain distraction and dismembering; and they now call him Dionysus, Zagreus, Nyctelius, and Isodaetes, exhibiting and chanting forth certain corruptions, disparitions, deaths, and resurrections, which are all riddles and fables suited to the said mutations. To Dionysus or Bacchus they sing dithyrambic verses, full of passions and change, joined with a certain wandering and agitation backwards and forwards; for, as Aeschylus says,

The dithyramb, whose sounds are dissonant, ’Tis fit should wait on Bacchus.

But to Apollo they sing the well-ordered paean and a discreet song. And Apollo both in their sculptures and statues they always make to be young and never declining to old age; but Dionysus they represent in many shapes and forms. Lastly, to the one they attribute equality, order, and unmixed gravity; but to the other, a certain unequal mixture of sports, petulancy, gravity, and madness, surnaming him,

Evius Bacchus, who to rage incites Women on tops of mountains, and delights In frantic worship.

Thus they not unfitly touch the property of both changes. Now because the time of the revolutions in these changes is not equal, but that of the one which they call Koros (that is, satiety) is longer, and that of the other named Chresmosyne (or want) shorter; observing in this the proportion, they all the rest of the year use in their sacrifices the paean; but at the beginning of winter, rousing up the dithyramb, and laying the paean to rest, they do for three months invocate Bacchus instead of Apollo, esteeming the creation of the world to be the same in proportion of time to the conflagration of it as three to one.

10. But these things have perhaps had more than sufficient time spent on them. This, however, is evident, that they properly attribute to this God the number of five, saying that it sometimes of itself produces itself like fire, and other whiles the number of ten, like the world. But do we think that this number is not also concerned with music, which is of all things most acceptable to this God? For the chiefest operation of harmony is, as one may say, about symphonies. Now that these are five and no more, reason convinces even him who will by his senses without reasoning make trial either on strings or pipe-holes. For all these accords take their original in proportions of number; and the proportion of the symphony diatessaron is sesquitertial, of diapente sesquialter, of diapason duple, of diapason with diapente triple, and of disdiapason quadruple. But as for that which, transcending all measures, the musicians add to these, naming it diapason with diatessaron, it is not fit we should receive it, gratifying the unreasonable pleasure of the ear against proportion, which is as the law. I may therefore let pass the five positions of the tetrachords, and also the five first,—whether they are to be called tones, tropes, or harmonies,—according to the changes of which by rising or falling, either to more or less, the rest are bases or trebles. And, whereas there are many or rather infinite intervals, are not five of them only used in music, to wit, diesis, hemitonion, tonos, triemitonion, and ditonon? Nor is there in the voice any other space, either greater or less, that, being distinguished by base or treble, comes into melody.

11. Passing by many other such like things, said I, I will produce only Plato; who says, that there is but one world, but that if this were not alone, so that there were others besides it, they would be in all five and no more. For indeed, though there is but this one only world, as Aristotle is also of opinion, yet this world is in some sort composed and assembled of five, of which one indeed is of earth, another of water, the third of fire, the fourth of air, and the fifth, being heaven, some call light and others the sky; and some also name this same the fifth essence, which alone of all bodies is naturally carried about in a circle, and not of necessity or otherwise by accident. Wherefore Plato, knowing that, of the figures which are in Nature, there are five most excellent and perfect,—to wit, the pyramid, the cube, the octahedron, the icosahedron, and the dodecahedron,—has fitly accommodated each of them to each of these worlds or bodies.

12. There are some also who apply the faculties of the senses, being equal in number, to these five first bodies, seeing the touch to be firm and earthly, and the taste to perceive the qualities of savors by moisture. Now the air being struck upon is a voice and sound to the ear; and as for the other two,—the scent, which the smell has obtained for its object, being an exhalation and engendered by heat, is fiery; and the sight, which shines by reason of its affinity to the sky and light, has from them a temperature and complexion equally mingled of both. Now neither has any animal any other sense, nor the world any other nature simple and unmixed; but there has been made, as appears, a certain wonderful distribution and congruity of five to five.

13. Having here stopped a little, and made a small pause between, I said: What a fault, O Eustrophus, were we like to have committed, having almost passed by Homer, as if he were not the first that distributed the world into five parts, who assigned the three which are in the midst to three Gods, and left the two extremes, Olympus and the Earth—of which one is the limit of things above, the other of things below—common and undistributed.[208] But we must, as Euripides says, return to our discourse. For those who magnify the quaternary, or number of four, teach not amiss, that every solid body had its generation by reason of this. For since every solid consists in length and breadth, having withal a depth; and since before length there is extant a point, answerable to unity, and length without breadth is called a line and consists of two; and the motion of a line towards breadth exhibits also the procreation of a superficies in the number three; and the argumentation of this, when depth is added to it, goes on to a solid in the number four; it is manifest to every one, that the quaternary, having carried on Nature hitherto, and even to the perfecting of a body and the exhibiting it tangible, massy, and solid, has yet at last left it wanting the greatest accomplishment. For that which is inanimate is, to speak sincerely, orphan-like, imperfect, and fit for nothing at all, unless there is some soul to use it; but the motion or disposition introducing a soul, being a change made by the number five, adds the consummation to Nature, and has a reason so much more excellent than the quaternary, as an animal differs in dignity from that which is inanimate. Moreover, the symmetry and power of this number five, having obtained greater force, has not permitted the animate body to proceed to infinite sorts, but has exhibited five species of all things that have life. For there are Gods, Genii, and heroes, and then after them the fourth sort is men, and the fifth and last the irrational and brutish animal. Furthermore, if you divide the soul itself according to its nature, its first and most obscure part or faculty is the vegetative, the second the sensitive, then the concupiscible, after that the irascible; and having brought on and perfected Nature in the faculty of the rational, it rests in this fifth, as in the top of all.

14. Now the generation of this number, which has so many and so great faculties, is also beautiful,—not that which we have already discoursed of, from two and three, but that which the first principle joined with the first square has exhibited. For the principle of all number is unity, and the first square is the quaternary; now the quinary is composed of these, as of form and of matter which has attained to perfection. And if it is right, which some hold, that unity is also square, as being the power of itself and terminating in itself; the quinary, being made of the first two squares, could not have a more noble original.

15. But as for its greatest excellency, I fear, lest being spoken it should press our Plato as much as he himself said Anaxagoras was pressed by the name of the moon, when he made a certain opinion concerning her illuminations, which was very ancient, to be an invention of his own. For has he not said this in his dialogue entitled Cratylus?[209]

Yes indeed, answered Eustrophus; but I see not any thing that has fallen out like it. And yet you know, that in the Sophister[210] he demonstrates five principal beginnings, to wit, that which is, or Ens (τὸ ὄν), the Same, the Different, adding to these, for a fourth and fifth, Motion and Rest. Again, in his dialogue called Philebus,[211] using another manner of division, he says, that there is one thing Infinite, and another the End; and that all generation consists of these two mixed together. Then he puts the cause by which they are mixed for the fourth kind; and has left us to conjecture the fifth, by which the things that were mixed have again a division and dissipation. Now I am of opinion that these last are delivered as the images or representations of those before,—to wit, the things engendered of Ens, the Infinite of Motion, the End of Rest, the Mixing Principle of the Same, and the Separating Principle of the Different. But if these are different from those, yet both that way and this way these principles are still distinguished into five kinds and differences. Now some one, said he, being persuaded of these things and seeing them before Plato, consecrated to the God two Ε Ε, for a mark and symbol of the number of all things. And having perhaps further understood that good also appears in five kinds, of which the first is the mean, the second the commensurate, the third understanding, the fourth the sciences, arts, and true opinions in the soul, and the fifth a certain pleasure, pure and unmixed with sorrow; he stops there, subjoining that of Orpheus:

In the sixth age stay your desire of singing.

16. After what I have spoken to you, I said, Yet one short word to those about Nicander,

I’ll sing to men of skill.

For on the sixth day of the new moon, when you introduce the Pythia into the Prytaneum, the first of the three lots tends with you towards five, casting neither three, nor two, one to another.[212] For is not this so?

It is so, said Nicander; but the cause is not to be told to others.

Well then, said I smiling, till such time as the God admits us, being consecrated, to know the truth, this also shall be added to those things that have been spoken concerning the quinary. This end, as I remember, had the discourse of the arithmetical and mathematical encomiums of Ε.

17. But Ammonius, who had himself also bestowed not the worst part of his time in mathematical philosophy, was delighted with what had been spoken, and said: It is not meet too eagerly to oppose these young men about these things, except by saying that every one of the numbers will afford you, if you desire to praise it, no small subject of commendations. And what need is there to speak of others? For the septener, sacred to Apollo, will take up a day’s time, before one can in words run through all its powers. We shall therefore pronounce, that the Sages do at once contest both against common law and a long series of time, if, throwing the septenary out of its seat, they consecrate the quinary to the God, as being more suitable to him. I am therefore of opinion, that this syllable signifies neither number, order, nor connection, nor any other of the deficient parts, but is a self-perfect appellation and salutation of the God, which brings the speaker to the conception of the power of the God at the very moment of uttering it. For the God in a manner calls upon every one of us who comes hither, with this salutation, Know thyself, which is nothing inferior to All hail. And we again, answering the God, say to him Εἶ, thou art; attributing to him the true, unfeigned, and sole appellation of being, as agreeing to him alone.

18. For we indeed do not at all essentially partake of being; but every mortal nature, being in the midst between generation and corruption, exhibits an appearance, and an obscure and weak opinion of itself. And if you fix your thought, desiring to comprehend it,—as the hard grasping of water, by the pressing and squeezing together that which is fluid, loses that which is held,—so when reason pursues too evident a perception of any one of the things subject to passion and change, it is deceived and led away, partly towards its generation and partly towards its corruption, being able to apprehend nothing either remaining or really subsisting. For we cannot, as Heraclitus says, step twice into the same river, or twice find any perishable substance in the same state; but by the suddenness and swiftness of the change, it disperses and again gathers together, comes and goes. Whence what is generated of it reaches not to the perfection of being, because the generation never ceases nor is at an end; but always changing, of seed it makes an embryo, next an infant, then a child, then a stripling, after that a young man, then a full-grown man, an elderly man, and lastly, a decrepit old man, corrupting the former generations and statures by the latter. But we ridiculously fear one death, having already so often died and still dying. For not only, as Heraclitus said, is the death of fire the generation of air, and the death of air the generation of water; but you may see this more plainly in men themselves; for the full-grown man perishes when the old man comes, as the youth terminated in the full-grown man, the child in the youth, the infant in the child. So yesterday died in to-day, and to-day dies in to-morrow; so that none remains nor is one, but we are generated many, according as matter glides and turns about one phantasm and common mould. For how do we, if we remain the same, delight now in other things than we delighted in before? How do we love, hate, admire, and contemn things contrary to the former? How do we use other words and other passions, not having the same form, figure, or understanding? For neither is it probable we should be thus differently affected without change, neither is he who changes the same. And if he is not the same, neither is he at all; but changing from the same, he changes also his being, being made one from another. But the sense is deceived through the ignorance of being, supposing that to be which appears.

19. What then is it that has really a being? That which is eternal, unbegotten, and incorruptible, to which no time brings a change. For time is a certain movable thing appearing in connection with fleeting matter, always flowing and unstable, like a leaky vessel full of corruption and generation; of which the sayings “after” and “before,” “it has been” and “it shall be,” are of themselves a confession that it has no being. For to say that what not yet is or what has already ceased to be is in being, how foolish and absurd is it. And as for that on which we chiefly ground the understanding of time,—saying, the instant, present, and now,—this again reason wholly rejects and overthrows; for it is lost between the future and the past, like a flash of light, and is separated into two when we will behold it. Now if the same thing befalls Nature, which is measured by time, as does the time which measures it, there is nothing in it permanent or subsistent, but all things are either breeding or dying, according to their commixture with time. Whence also it is not lawful to say of any thing which is, that it was or shall be; for these are inclinations and departures and changes of that whose nature is not to continue in being.

20. But God, we must say, is, and he is not in any time, but in eternity, which is immovable without time, and free from inclination, in which there is nothing first, or last, or newer; but being one, it has filled its eternal duration with one only “now”; and that only is which is really according to this, of which it cannot be said, that it either was or shall be, or that it begins or shall end. Thus ought those who worship to salute and invocate this Eternal Being, or else indeed, as some of the ancients have done, with this expression Εἶ ἕν, Thou art one. For the Divinity is not many, as every one of us is made of ten thousand differences in affections, being a confused heap, filled with all diversities. But that which is must be one, as one must have a being. But diversity, which is esteemed to be different from being, goes forth to the generation of that which is not. Whence both the first of his names agrees rightly with this God, as do also the second and third. For he is called Apollo, as denying plurality and rejecting multitude; and Ieïos, as being only one; and Phoebus was the name given by the ancients to every thing that is pure and chaste; as the Thessalians even to this day, if I am not mistaken, say of their priests, when on vacant days they abstain from the temples and keep themselves retired, that they purify themselves (φοιβονομεῖσθαι). Now that which is one is sincere and pure. For pollution is by the mixture of one thing with another; as Homer, speaking of a piece of ivory dyed red, said it was “polluted” by the dye, and dyers say of mixed colors that they are corrupted, and call the mixture itself corruption. It is therefore always requisite for that which is incorruptible and pure to be one and unmixed.

21. Now, as for those who think Apollo and the Sun to be the same, they are to be caressed and loved for their ingenuity, as placing the notion of God in that which they most reverence, of all things that they know and desire. And now, as if they were dreaming of God the most glorious dream, let us stir up and exhort them to ascend higher, and to contemplate his reality and his essence; but to honor also this his image (the Sun), and to venerate that generative faculty he has placed in it, since it exhibits in some sort by its brightness—as far as it is possible for a sensible thing to represent an intellectual, and a movable thing that which is permanent—certain manifestations and resemblances of his benignity and blessedness. But as for those his sallyings out and changes, when he casts forth fire, ... and when he again draws himself in, afterwards extending himself into the earth, sea, winds, animals, and strange accidents both of animals and plants, they cannot so much as be hearkened to without impiety; or else God will be worse than the child in the poet,—who made himself sport with a heap of sand, first raised and then again scattered abroad by himself,—if he shall do the same in respect of the universe, first framing the world when it was not, and then destroying it when made. On the contrary, whatsoever of him is in any sort infused into the world, that binds together its substance, and restrains the corporeal weakness which tends to corruption. And it seems to me that this word is chiefly opposed to that doctrine, and that Εἶ, Thou art, is spoken to this God, as testifying that there is never in him any going forth or change. But to do and suffer this agrees to one of the other Gods, or rather Daemons, ordained to take care about Nature in generation and corruption; as is immediately manifest from their names, being wholly contrary and of different significations. For the one is called Apollo (or not many), the other Pluto (or many); the one Delius (from clearness), the other Aidoneus (from obscurity); the one Phoebus (or shining), the other Scotius (or dark); with the one are the Muses and Mnemosyne (or song and memory) with the other Lethe and Siope (or forgetfulness and silence). The one is (from contemplating and showing) named Theorius and Phanaeus; the other is

Prince of dark night and sluggish sleep, whose fate Is that men him most of all Gods do hate.

Of Apollo also Pindar not unpleasantly sung, that he

The gentlest of all Gods to mortals is declared.

And therefore Euripides rightly also said:

These mournful songs suit well with men deceased, With which gold-haired Apollo’s no way pleased.

And before him Stesichorus:

Apollo joys in sports and pleasant tones, But Pluto takes delight in griefs and moans.

Sophocles also evidently attributes to either of them his proper instruments, in these words:

Neither the lute nor psaltery is fit For mournful matters.

For it is but very lately, and in a manner of yesterday, that the pipe has dared to introduce itself into delightful matters; having in former times drawn men to mourning, and possessing about these things no very honorable or splendid employment. But afterwards all was brought into confusion, which was due especially to those who confounded the affairs of the Gods with those of the Genii.

But the sentence, Know thyself, seems in one respect to contradict this word ΕΙ, and in another to agree with it. For the one is pronounced with admiration and veneration to God, as being eternal; and the other is a remembrance to mortal men of their nature and infirmity.

WHETHER VICE IS SUFFICIENT TO RENDER A MAN UNHAPPY.[213]

[The beginning is lost.]

1. He suffers much, who for a dowry has His body sold,——

as Euripides says; for he gets but small matters by it, and those very uncertain. But to him who passes not through much ashes, but through a certain regal pile of fire, being perpetually short breathed, full of fear, and bathed in sweat as if he had crossed the seas to and fro, she gives at last a certain Tantalian wealth, which he cannot enjoy by reason of the continual turmoil that encumbers him. For that Sicyonian horse-courser was well advised, who presented the king of the Achaeans with a swift-footed mare,

That to proud Ilium’s siege he might not go,[214]

but stay at home and take his pleasure, wallowing in the depth of his riches, and giving himself up to an unmolested ease.

But those who now seem to be without trouble and men of action do, without being called to it, thrust themselves headlong into the courts of princes, where they must be obliged to tedious attending and watching, that they may gain an horse, a chain, or some such blessed favor.

In the mean time the wife, of joy bereft, Sits tearing her fair cheeks, the house is left Imperfect and half built;——

whilst the husband is drawn and hurried about, wandering amongst others, allured by hopes of which he is often disappointed, suffering disgrace and shame. But if he happens to obtain any of those things he so eagerly desires, after he has been turned about and made dizzy with being Fortune’s sport, he seeks a dismission, and declares those to be happy who live obscure and safe; whilst they, in the mean time, have the same opinion of him whom they see mounted so far above them.

2. So absolutely does Vice dispose of all men, being such a self-sufficient worker of infelicity, that it has no need either of instruments or servants. Other tyrants, endeavoring to render those men miserable whom they punish, maintain executioners and tormentors, devise searing-irons and racks, to plague the reasonless soul. But Vice, without any preparation of engines, as soon as it enters into the soul, torments and dejects it, filling a man with grief, lamentations, sorrow, and repentance. For a sign that this is so, you may observe that many being cut are silent, being scourged take it patiently, and being racked and tormented by their lords and tyrants send not forth the least shriek, since the soul, repressing the voice by reason, restrains and keeps it in as with the hand; but you will scarce ever be able to quiet anger or to silence sorrow; nor can you persuade one that is in a fright to stand still, or one that is stung with remorse of conscience to forbear exclaiming tearing his hair, and smiting his thigh. So much is Vice more violent than either fire or sword.

3. Cities, when by fixing up of writings they publish their intentions of building temples or erecting colossuses, hear the proposals of different artists, contending about the undertaking of the work, and bringing in their accounts and models; after which, they choose him who will perform it best, quickest, and with the least expense. Now imagine, that we also set forth a proclamation of a purpose to make a wretched man or a miserable life, and that Fortune and Vice come with differing proposals to offer their service for the performance of this design. The one (to wit, Fortune) is provided with abundance of various instruments and costly furniture, to render human life miserable and unhappy. She draws after her robberies, wars, the murders of tyrants, storms from the sea, and lightnings from the air. She mixes hemlock, brings in swords, hires slanderers, kindles fevers, jingles shackles, and builds up prisons round about; although most of these things are rather from Vice than Fortune. But let us suppose them to be all from Fortune; and let Vice, standing naked and wanting no exterior things against man, ask Fortune how she will make a man unhappy and faint-hearted.

Fortune, let her say, dost thou threaten poverty? Metrocles laughs at thee, who sleeping in the winter amongst the sheep, and in the summer in the porches of the temples, challenged the kings of the Persians, that wintered in Babylon and passed the summer in Media, to vie with him for happiness. Dost thou bring on servitude, bonds, and the being sold for a slave? Diogenes contemns thee, who being exposed to sale by pirates, cried out, Who will buy a master? Dost thou brew a cup of poison? Didst thou not offer such a one to Socrates? And yet he mildly and meekly, without trembling or changing either color or countenance, drank it briskly up; whilst those who survived esteemed him happy, as one that would not be even in the other world without a divine portion. Moreover, as for thy fire, Decius the Roman general prevented it, when, having caused a great fire to be made in the midst between two armies, he sacrificed himself to Saturn, according to a vow made for the aggrandizing of the Romans’ dominion. And amongst the Indians, such chaste wives as are true lovers of their husbands strive and contend with one another for the fire, and all the rest sing forth the happiness of her who, having obtained the victory, is burnt with her deceased husband. And of the Sages in those parts, there is not one esteemed a holy and most blessed man, if he did not, whilst he was yet living and in the perfect enjoyment of his health and understanding, separate by fire his soul from his body, and purging away what was mortal, depart pure out of the flesh.

But thou wilt reduce one from great wealth, a stately house, a well-furnished table, and abundance of all things, to a threadbare coat, a wallet, and begging of his daily food. These things were to Diogenes the beginnings of happiness, and to Crates of liberty and glory. But thou wilt, perhaps, fasten one to the cross, or impale him on a stake. Now what cares Theodorus, whether it is above or under ground that he putrefies? These were the happy sepultures of the Scythians; and amongst the Hyrcanians, dogs—amongst the Bactrians, birds—do according to the laws devour the dead bodies of those who have made a blessed end.

4. Whom then do these things render unhappy? The unmanly and irrational, the effeminate and unexercised, with such as retain the foolish and frightful opinions they received in their infancy. Fortune then does not perfectly produce infelicity, unless it has Vice to co-operate with it. For as a thread will cut in sunder a bone that has been steeped in ashes and vinegar, and as workmen bend and fashion ivory as they please, after it has been softened and rendered pliable by beer, when it is otherwise inflexible; so Fortune, coming upon that which is already ill-affected of itself and rendered soft by Vice, pierces into it and hollows it. And as the paroecus,—though hurtful to no other, nor any way prejudicing those who touch it or bear it about them,—if any one who is wounded is but brought into the place where it is, immediately kills him, being already by his wound predisposed to receive the defluxion; so the soul which is to be overthrown by Fortune must have in itself some ulcer of its own, and some malady within its flesh, that it may render those accidents which come from abroad miserable and lamentable.

5. Is then Vice also such that it should stand in need of Fortune’s help for the working of infelicity? By no means. She does not make the sea swell with storms and tempests, she besets not the deserts lying at the feet of the mountains with robbers, she pours not down storms of hail on the fruitful fields, she raises not up Meletus, Anytus, and Callixenus, to be calumniators, she takes not away wealth, she hinders not any from the command of armies, that she may make men unhappy; but she renders them rich, abounding in wealth, having great inheritances on the earth; she bears them company at sea; she sticks close to them, pining them with lust, inflaming them with wrath, overwhelming them with superstitions, drawing them by their eyes....

[The rest is wanting.]

WHETHER THE PASSIONS OF THE SOUL OR DISEASE OF THE BODY ARE WORSE.

1. Homer, having contemplated the various kinds of mortal animals, and compared them one with another in respect to their lives and habits, cried out:

What wretched creature of what wretched kind, Than man more weak, calamitous, and blind![215]

attributing to man that unhappy primacy of having the superiority in miseries. But we, considering man as having already gained the victory for infelicity, and being publicly declared the most miserable of all animals, will compare him with himself in a contention about his own calamities, not unprofitably but even altogether necessarily dividing his soul from his body; that we may thence learn, whether we live more miserably on account of Fortune or of ourselves. For sickness is indeed engendered in the body by Nature; but vice and malice in the soul are first its own work, afterward its passion. Now it is of no small advantage towards content of mind, if that which is the worse is curable, and lighter and less violent in its attacks than we feared.

2. The fox in Aesop, disputing with the panther for the superiority in beautiful variety,—when this latter had shown his body, and its superficies curiously stained and spotted, whereas the fox’s tawny skin was ill-favored and unpleasant to the sight,—said thus: “But if you, sir judge, will look within me, you will find me much fuller of variety than this leopard;” manifesting the nimble subtlety of his natural disposition, frequently changing as occasions require. Let us then say also to ourselves: Thy body, O man, naturally of itself breeds many diseases and passions, and many it receives befalling it from without; but if thou shalt open thy interior, thou wilt find a certain various and abundantly furnished storehouse and (as Democritus says) treasury of evils, not flowing into it from abroad, but having as it were their inbred and original springs, which vice, exceedingly affluent and rich in passions, causes to break forth. Now, whereas the diseases in the flesh are discerned by the pulses, and the flushings in the color of the skin, and discovered by unusual heats and sudden pains, and these maladies of the soul lie hid from many who are affected with them; these are therefore worse, as removing from them the sense of the patient. For if the reason is sound, it is sensible of the body’s diseases; but being itself diseased with those of the soul, it has no judgment in what it suffers; for it suffers by what it judges. We ought therefore to account, that the first and greatest of the soul’s diseases is folly, by which vice being rendered incurable cohabits, lives, and dies together with most men. For the beginning of the cure is the sense of the disease, leading the patient to the use of what is helpful; but he who, through his not believing himself sick, is ignorant of his own necessities, though a remedy is presented him, refuses it. For also amongst the diseases of the body, those are indeed the worst which are accompanied with a stupefaction of the senses,—as lethargies, headaches, epilepsies, apoplexies, and those burning fevers which, carrying on the inflammation even to the loss of the wits, and disturbing the senses, as it were in a musical instrument, “move the heart-strings till then untouched.”

3. Wherefore the physicians do in the first place indeed desire that a man should not be sick, and next, that being sick he should not be ignorant that he is so; which nevertheless befalls all the diseases of the soul. For neither those who are mad, those that are lascivious, nor those who act unjustly, think that they sin; nay, some of them are on the contrary persuaded even that they do well. Never yet did any man call a fever health, a consumption a good constitution of body, the gout swift-footedness, or the wanness of the face a fresh color; but many there are who term anger courage, unchaste love amity, envy emulation, and cowardice cautiousness. Moreover, those who are troubled with corporeal sickness send for physicians, for they are sensible what they stand in need of for the cure of their diseases; but these who are sick in mind shun philosophers, because they think themselves to act excellently in those very things in which they most offend. For making use of this reasoning, we affirm that the blearness or soreness of the eyes is a less malady than madness, and the gout in the feet than a frenzy in the brain; for in the one a man is sensible of his distemper, and crying out calls for the physician, to whom, when he is come, he shows his eye to be anointed, stretches out his vein to be opened, and gives up his head to be cured; but on the contrary, you hear Agave, when seized with madness, through the violence of her passion not knowing the dearest pledges of her womb, to cry out:

From the hill’s top into the plain, Bring me this young fawn, newly slain, Which happily’s become our prey.[216]

For he who is sick in body, presently yielding and betaking himself to his bed, lies there quiet, till he is cured; and if the accession of some violent hot fit makes him a little tumble and toss his body, any one of those who are by saying to him,

Lie still at ease, poor wretch, keep in thy bed,[217]

easily stays and retains him; but those, on the other side, who are surprised with the passions of the soul are then most active, then least at quiet; for the impulses of the mind are the principal causes of actions, and passions are the violent fits of such impulses. Wherefore, they suffer not the soul to be at rest; but when a man has most need of patience, silence, and retirement, then is he drawn forth into the light, then is he chiefly discovered by his choleric humors, his eagerness in contending, his dishonest loves, and his heart-breaking sorrows, which force him to commit many irregular actions, and speak many words unfitting for the times.

4. As therefore that storm which hinders a ship from entering into the port is more dangerous than that which suffers it not to sail; so the tempests of the soul are more difficult, which permit not a man to restrain himself, nor to settle his disturbed reason, so that, being without pilot or cables, he is through tumult and deceit hurried headlong by rash and pernicious courses, till he falls into some terrible shipwreck, where he casts away his life. So that also for these reasons it is worse to be sick in the soul than body; for to the one it happens only to suffer, but to the other both to suffer and do amiss. And what need is there to reckon up the greater number of our passions? This very nick of time is a sufficient remembrance. Do you see this vast and promiscuous multitude, here crowding and thrusting each other about the tribunal and forum? They are not assembled to sacrifice to their country Gods, nor to participate together in the sacred ceremonies. They are not come to offer up to Jupiter Ascraeus the first of the Lydian fruits, nor to celebrate the solemnities of Bacchus by the observance of festival nights and common revellings; but a mighty pestilence, as it were by yearly revolutions irritating Asia, drives them hither to manage their processes and suits at law; and a multitude of affairs, as it were of impetuous torrents, fall into one market-place, where they grow hot and are eagerly prosecuted both by those that destroy and by those that are destroyed. Of what fevers, of what agues, are these the effects? What lodgements, what irruptions, what distemperature of heat, what superfusion of humors produces them? Should you ask every suit at law as if it were a man, whence it had its original, whence it proceeded; you would find, that audacious anger generated one, furious obstinacy another, and unjust covetousness a third....

END OF VOL. IV.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Ἐξ ὄνυχος τὸν λέοντα, ex ungue leonem.

[2] Ἔνθα χρεῖός μοι ὀφέλλεται, οὔ τι νέον γε οὐδ’ ὀλίγον. Od. III. 367. The same interpretation is found in the Scholia on the Odyssey. (G.)

[3] Κορώνη, that is, Crow.

[4] Il. XX. 8.

[5] See Plato’s discussion of triangles and the regular solids, Timaeus, pp. 53 C-56 C, with the commentaries. See also Grote’s Plato, Vol. III. p. 269. (G.)

[6] See note prefixed to Plutarch’s Treatise on Music. (G.)

[7] See Euripides, Frag. 925.

[8] Hesiod, Works and Days, 125.

[9] Hesiod, Works and Days, 123.

[10] Hesiod, Theogony, 117.

[11] Eurip. Cyclops, 332.

[12] From the Orphic Fragments, VI. 10 (Hermann).

[13] This Clea was priestess to Isis and to Apollo Delphicus.

[14] Il. XIII. 354.

[15] That is, τὰ ὄντα in the Platonic sense, as opposed to τὰ γιγνόμενα. (G.)

[16] Plutarch derives Isis, in the usual uncritical way of ancient etymology, from the Greek root ἰσ—, found in ἴστε from οἶδα. (G.)

[17] That is, τετυφωμένος. (G.)

[18] Hes. Works and Days, 740. That is, Do not cut your nails at a banquet of the Gods. The briefer precept of Pythagoras was, Παρὰ θυσίαν μὴ ὀνυχίζου. (G.)

[19] From Empedocles.

[20] See Odyss. VI. 12; Il. XIII. 810; V. 438; IV. 31.

[21] Hesiod, Works and Days, 126.

[22] Odyss. VIII. 340.

[23] From Aratus.

[24] From the Aeolus of Euripides, Frag. 21.

[25] He alludes to Homer, who feigns Jupiter to have in his house two differing jars, the one filled with good things, and the other with bad. See Il. XXIV. 527.

[26] Il. XVIII. 107.

[27] II. VIII. 22.

[28] If we adopt Bentley’s emendation ἀνεπήρωσε for ἀνεπλήρωσε, we must translate “did not abolish, but merely maimed, the corruptible faculty.” (G.)

[29] See the preceding essay, § 86.

[30] Most of the absurd etymologies proposed in this chapter are actually to be found in Plato’s Cratylus, from p. 401 C to p. 415 E. (G.)

[31] The usual emendation for εὑροῦσι (which the MSS. give) is εὐροοῦσι. But Plato (Crat. 415 D) derives ἀρετή from τὸ ἀσχέτως καὶ τὸ ἀκωλύτως ἀεὶ ῥέον from which he supposes a form ἀειρείτη to come, afterwards contracted into ἀρετή. I have therefore adopted the reading ἀεὶ ῥέουσι, and translated accordingly. (G.)

[32] Euripides, Troad. 887,

[33] Pindar, Olymp. I. 10.

[34] The scene of the dialogue is laid in the temple of Delphi. (G.)

[35] Eurip. Orestes, 420.

[36] See the speech of Cleon, Thuc. III. 38.

[37] I follow Wyttenbach’s emendation μάλιστ’ ἄν for μόλις ἄν. (G.)

[38] Referring to the verse, Ὀψὲ θεῶν ἀλέουσι μύλοι, ἀλέουσι δὲ λεπτά, the mills of the Gods grind late, but they grind fine. (G.)

[39] From Pindar.

[40] That is, in the Sacred or Phocian war, 357-346 B.C. (G.)

[41] Il. XV. 641.

[42] Hesiod, Works and Days, 265.

[43] From the Ino of Euripides, Frag. 403.

[44] Referring to the doctrine of Heraclitus, that all Nature is moving onward, and nothing is the same two successive moments. “You cannot step twice into the same river,” he says. See Plat. Cratyl. p. 402 A. (G.)

[45] Hesiod, Works and Days, 735.

[46] The Emperor Vespasian.

[47] Il. XVII. 134.

[48] Il. IX. 324.

[49] Odyss. XX. 14.

[50] Il. XVII 446.

[51] Il. XI. 269.

[52] Aristoph. Knights, 50.

[53] Soph. Oed. Tyr. 1276.

[54] Eurip. Alcestis, 1159.

[55] Odyss. XI. 41.

[56] Soph. Oed. Tyr. 1080.

[57] The temple built in Caesar’s gardens was a temple of Fors Fortuna; and as this name appeared most frequently in the genitive, Fortis Fortunae, Plutarch probably mistook the title for Fortis, which he translates by ἀνδρεία. As the gardens of Caesar were trans Tiberim, Plutarch cannot refer to the temple still standing in the Forum Boarium, generally called that of Fortuna Virilis(?). See Becker’s Römische Alterthümer, I. pp. 478-480, note. (G.)

[58] Much that follows is a repetition of Chapter Fifth. (G.)

[59] Demosth. Ol. II. p. 24, 14.

[60] Il. I. 10.

[61] See Odyss. XVIII. 149.

[62] The rest of this discourse appears to be lost, wherein we miss the arguments which Virtue alleged for herself in this contest.

[63] Odyss. IX. 49.

[64] Euripides, Frag. 891.

[65] From the Aleadae of Sophocles, Frag. 79.

[66] See Eurip. Bacchae, 385.

[67] See Odyss. XIV. 464.

[68] From Sophocles Frag. 770.

[69] Odyss. XII. 452.

[70] Odyss. XIX. 494 and 204.

[71] Odyss. XX. 28.

[72] Eurip. Ino, Frag. 417.

[73] See Euripides, Frag. 1031.

[74] Eurip. Ino, Frag. 415.

[75] Il. X. 457.

[76] Il. XXII. 207.

[77] Soph. Antigone, 817.

[78] From Epicharmus.

[79] The name Loxias is usually derived from λοξός, indirect. (G.)

[80] See Herod. I. 47.

[81] From the Antiope of Euripides, Frag. 183.

[82] See Plato’s Phaedrus, p. 230 B.

[83] Hesiod, Works and Days, 696, translated by Elton.

[84] The famous courtesan Phryne was a native of Thespiae, where her marble statue stood in the temple of Love. She also sent her own statue by Praxiteles (who was her lover) to the temple at Delphi. See Pausanias, X. 15, 1. (G.)

[85] Eurip. Bacchae, 203.

[86] Eurip. Melanippe, Frag. 483 and 484.

[87] See Aristoph. Frogs, 1244.

[88] Euripides, Frag. 890.

[89] Eurip. Danae, Frag. 324.

[90] Sophocles, Frag. 856.

[91] Sophocles, Frag. 754.

[92] From the Prometheus Released of Aeschylus, Frag. 195.

[93] See Nauck, Frag. Adesp. 333.

[94] See Aeschylus, Suppliants, 665.

[95] Il. VII. 121.

[96] Soph. Trachin. 497.

[97] Eurip. Danae, Frag. 324.

[98] Soph. Antigone, 784.

[99] Soph. Niobe, Frag. 407.

[100] Il. XIII. 131.

[101] From the Stheneboea of Euripides, Frag. 666.

[102] Odyss. XIX. 40.

[103] Pindar, Pyth. I. 7.

[104] See II. IX. 502.

[105] Eurip. Pirithous, Frag. 598.

[106] Eurip. Hippol. 193.

[107] From Alcaeus.

[108] Eurip. Hippol. 7.

[109] Sophocles, Frag. 784.

[110] See Euripides, Frag. 1069.

[111] The dialogue is supposed to be held at the festival of Love. See §§ 1 and 2 (G).

[112] Soph. Frag. 778.

[113] Odyss. VI. 183.

[114] That is, by the sprouting of the beard. (G.)

[115] Eurip. Frag. 935.

[116] Odyss. XIX. 109.

[117] Il. X. 183.

[118] Il. XIX. 242.

[119] Herod. I. 5.

[120] Herod. I. 1.

[121] Herod. I. 4.

[122] See Herod. II. 45.

[123] Herod. I. 135.

[124] For the passages referred to in this chapter, see Herod. II. 48-51, 145, 146, 171.

[125] Herod. VI. 53, 54.

[126] Herod. I. 170.

[127] Herod. I. 32.

[128] Herod. V. 95.

[129] Herod. I. 61.

[130] Herod. I. 82.

[131] Herod. I. 155, 156, 207, 208.

[132] Herod. I. 92.

[133] Herod. I. 96.

[134] Herod. I. 143-148.

[135] See Herod. I. 157, &c.

[136] Herod. III. 47, 48.

[137] Herod. V. 63, 70.

[138] Herod. V. 66.

[139] Herod. V. 58.

[140] Herod. V. 90, 91.

[141] Herod. V. 97.

[142] Herod. VI. 108.

[143] Herod. VI. 106.

[144] Herod. VI. 115, 121-124.

[145] Herod. VII. 148-152.

[146] Herod. III. 22.

[147] Herod. VII. 139.

[148] Herod. VII. 190. Most scholars interpret this passage of Herodotus to mean that some accident destroyed one or more of the children of Aminocles. (G.)

[149] Herod. VII. 172.

[150] Herod. VII. 222.

[151] Herod. VII. 220.

[152] Herod. VII. 225.

[153] Herod. VII. 233.

[154] Herod. VII. 238.

[155] See Herod. VI. 126-130.

[156] Herod. VIII. 4.

[157] Herod. VIII. 18.

[158] Herod. VIII. 28.

[159] Herod. VIII. 21.

[160] Herod. VIII. 30-33. Compare IX. 17.

[161] Herod. IX. 31.

[162] Herod. VIII. 46.

[163] Herod. VIII. 57, 58.

[164] Herod. VIII. 68.

[165] Herod. VIII. 94.

[166] The versions of this epigram and of the last two in this chapter are taken from Burges’s Greek Anthology. (G.)

[167] Herod. VIII. 112.

[168] Herod. VIII. 122.

[169] Herod. VIII. 123, 124.

[170] Herod. IX. 8. See also VIII. 141.

[171] Herod. IX. 9.

[172] Herod. IX. 26, 27.

[173] Herod. IX. 46.

[174] Herod. IX. 52.

[175] See the account of the battle of Plataea, Herod. IX. 59-70.

[176] Herod. IX. 85.

[177] Il. VIII. 14.

[178] Hesiod, Works and Days, 78.

[179] From the Niobe of Aeschylus, Frag. 151.

[180] Il. I. 8.

[181] The text of this passage seems to be hopelessly corrupt. (G.)

[182] From the Bellerophontes of Euripides, Frag. 287, vs. 8.

[183] Odyss. I. 366.

[184] Il. XIV. 315.

[185] Eurip. Andromache, 448.

[186] See Orphic Fragments, VI. 10 (Herm.).

[187] Soph. Antigone, 456.

[188] Odyss. VI. 46.

[189] Il. V. 442.

[190] From Pindar.

[191] See Nauck’s Tragic Fragments, p. 704 (No. 345).

[192] Eurip. Bacch. 918.

[193] In the Pseudo-Phocylidea, vs. 87 (Bergk).

[194] Il. VI. 407.

[195] See Theognis, vs. 175.

[196] Works and Days, 242.

[197] Works and Days, 299.

[198] Eurip. Herc. Fur. 1245.

[199] From the Bellerophontes of Euripides, Frag. 294; and the Archelaus, Frag. 256.

[200] Il. I. 5.

[201] Hercules Furens, 1845

[202] Il. XV. 109. The words “or good” are not found in Homer. (G.)

[203] Eurip. Suppliants, 784.

[204] That is, Unchangeable.

[205] That is, Unavoidable.

[206] Il. I. 70.

[207] Deriving Apollo from α and πολύς (or πολλός), much. (G.)

[208] See Il. XV. 189.

[209] See Cratyl. p. 409 A.

[210] See Sophist. p. 254 D.

[211] See Phileb. p. 23 C-E.

[212] I leave this corrupt passage as I find it in the old translation. The Greek cannot be tortured into any sense. (G.)

[213] Tho’ this tract is so defective, both in the beginning and end, that they cannot, even to this present, be so much as guess’d at; yet the title and fragment we have left sufficiently discover the author’s intention. Now as, from the ruins of an old regal palace, our imagination does in some sort represent to us, how beautiful it was whilst it stood entire; so this little remnant suffices to show the greatness of our loss. But though the injury of time has depriv’d us of this benefit, and many others of like nature; yet this remainder, as imperfect as it is, may be profitable to us, and serve to put us in mind of our duty. Our author having, in the beginning, describ’d the misery of a covetous person, and of a courtier, adds, in prosecution of his principal design, that Vice is the absolute effector of infelicity, having need of no instruments or servants, to render a man miserable; whence he collects, that there is no danger or calamity which we ought not rather to choose, than to be vicious. He answers the objections made to the contrary, and concludes that no adversity can prejudice us, if it be not accompany’d with Vice. (S. W.)

[214] Il. XXIII. 297.

[215] Il. XVII. 446.

[216] Eurip. Bacch. 1170.

[217] Eurip. Orest. 258.

INDEX.

A.

“A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush,” a proverb among the Greeks, iv. 229.

“Abstain from beans,” meaning of the aphorism, i. 29.

Achelous, a river in Aetolia, v. 504.

Acrotatus, apothegm of, i. 400.

Actaeon, a beautiful youth of Corinth, murdered, iv. 313-315.

Ada, queen of Caria, sends delicacies to Alexander, i. 199.

Adimantus, admiral of the Corinthian fleet at the battle of Salamis, iv. 362; his courage vindicated, 364.

Adrastus, anecdote of, i. 288.

Advice to a new-married couple, ii. 486-507.

Aeacus, his two sons, v. 466.

Aemilius Censorinus, v. 475.

Aemilius of Sybaris, v. 464.

Aemilius Paulus, sayings of, i. 232; iv. 202.

Aeolus, king of Etruria, v. 467.

Aeschines, quoted, Prom., i. 40; anecdote of, 55; Eumen., 59; Frag., 163; Prom., 299; Ctesiphon, 334; his early life, and concern in public affairs, v. 34; incurs the hostility of Demosthenes, ib.; accused by Demosthenes and acquitted, 34, 35; impeaches Ctesiphon, is fined and exiled, 35; his school at Rhodes, ib.; his death, ib.; his orations, ib.; his public employments, 36.

Aeschylus, quoted, Septem, i. 210, 286, 315, 329, 493; quoted, ii. 47; anecdote of, 77, 160; Frag., 48, 83, 127, 165, 374, 431, 458, 463, 474, 477; quoted, iii. Frag., 24, 222; quoted, iv. 20, 54, 385; Frag., 276, 279; quoted, v. Frag., 170; Prom., 241, 320, 398.

Aesop, murdered by the citizens of Delphi, iv. 160; their punishment, 161. See Esop.

Agamedes and Trophonius built the temple at Delphi, i. 313.

Agasicles, apothegms of, i. 385.

Agatharchides the Samian, his Persian History, v. 451.

Agatho the Samian, v. 474.

Agathocles, anecdote of, i. 46; ii. 317.

Aged Men, Shall they meddle in State Affairs?, v. 64-96.

Agesianax quoted, v. 235, 236.

Agesilaus, reply of, i. 73, 219, 220; his sayings and great actions, 385-397; his upright character, ii. 109, 115, 319, 455; his punishment, iii. 46, 79; anecdote of, v. 67; his faults, 118; 457; his Italian History, 468.

Agesipolis, two of the name, apothegms of, i. 397, 398.

Agis, king of Sparta, his sayings, i. 218, 221; anecdote of, v. 95.

Agis, son of Archidamus, apothegm of, i. 398.

Agis the Argive, ii. 125.

Agis the Last, apothegm of, i. 400.

Agis the Younger, apothegms of, i. 400.

Ajax’s soul, her place in Hell, iii. 442.

Alba, king of, torn in pieces by horses, v. 455.

Albinus, a Roman general, v. 453.

Alcaeus quoted, ii. 298; iii. 264.

Alcamenes, apothegm of, i. 400.

Alcibiades, i. 143; his sayings, 211; his lustful conduct, 489; the prince of flatterers, ii. 108, 471; failure of, 460; spoke with hesitation, v. 110, 112.

Alcippus, a Lacedaemonian, banished for his virtue; his wife slays herself and her daughters, iv. 320-322.

Alcmaeon, saying of, i. 288; philosophical opinions; of the planets, iii. 140; of hearing, 170; of smelling, 170; of taste, 170; of the barrenness of mules, 182; of embryos, 184; of the formation of the body, 184; of the cause of sleep, 188; of health, sickness, and old age, 192.

Alcmaeonidae, unfairly represented by Herodotus, iv. 338, 347.

Alcman, quoted; Frag., i. 494; iii. 16; v. 279.

Aleuas the Thessalian, iii. 67.

Alexander of Macedon, and Porus, i. 45; lament of, 140; and Criso the runner, 152; his sayings, 198-202; the Fortune or Virtue of, 475-516; anecdotes of, ii. 125, 138, 473; his moderation, 475; iii. 29; was he a great drinker, 219; his purpose to attack the Romans, iv. 219; v. 140.

Alexander, tyrant of Pherae, his cruel temper softened by a play, i. 492.

Alexandridas, apothegm of, i. 401.

Alexarchus, his Italian History, v. 456.

Alexidemas, at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 3-41.

Alexinus the sophist, i. 76.

Alexis quoted, ii. 58.

Alpha, why placed first in the Alphabet, iii. 438.

Alpheus, a river in Arcadia, v. 501.

Amasis, king of Egypt, required to drink the ocean dry, ii. 13; questions of, 16.

Ammonius, teacher of Plutarch, anecdote of, ii. 147.

Amphiaraus, quoted, i. 317; his lance turned into a laurel, v. 455.

Amphidamas, poets meet at his grave in Chalcis, ii. 19.

Amphion, first invented playing on the harp and lyric poesy, i. 105.

Anarcharsis, and Eumetis, ii. 8; his utterances at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, 12, 15, 20, 21, 27, 39.

Anatole, a mountain, v. 482.

Anaxagoras, saying of, i. 159; said the sun was red-hot metal, 179; anecdote of, 332; ii. 357; iii. 35, 37; philosophical opinions; Homoeomeries, 108; of the origin of bodies, 119; how bodies are mixed, 126; of fortune, 131; of the world’s inclination, 136; of the stars, 138, 140; of the sun, 142, 143; of the moon, 145, 147; of the milky way, 149; of shooting stars, 150; of thunder, lightning and hurricanes, 151; of the rainbow, 153; of earthquakes, 157; of the sea, 158; of the overflow of the Nile, 160; of the voice, 172; of generation, 178; of the generation of animals, 186; of reason in animals, 187; of sleep, 190; v. 145, 255.

Anaxander, apothegm of, i. 401.

Anaxilas, apothegm of, i. 402.

Anaximander, philosophical opinions; of principles, iii. 107; the stars were heavenly deities, 121; of the stars, 140; of the essence and magnitude of the sun, 141, 142; of eclipses of the sun, 144; of the moon, 145; of fire from clouds, 150; of winds, 154; of the earth, 155; of the sea, 158; of the generation of animals, 186.

Anaximenes, philosophical opinions; air is the principle of all beings, iii. 107; of heaven, 137; of the stars, 139, 140; cause of summer and winter, 141; of the shape of the sun and summer and winter solstice, 143; of the moon, 146; of clouds, 151; of the rainbow, 153; of the earth, 155; of earthquakes, 157; v. 313.

Ancients, suppers of the, iii. 255-259.

Andocides, one of the ten Attic orators, v. 21-23; of a noble family, 21; accused of impious acts, 22; his adventures in Cyprus, 22, 23; his exile, 23; his orations, ib.

Androclidas, apothegm of, i. 402.

Anecdotes of Aeschylus, ii. 458. Agathocles, i. 46. Agesilaus, i. 73, 219, 220; v. 67, 118. Agis, king of Sparta, v. 95. Alcibiades, ii. 108, 109. Alexander the Great, i. 45; ii. 473. Ammonius, ii. 147. Anaxagoras, i. 332. Antigonus, i. 44, 47, 67, 202, 205, 334; iv. 231. Antimachus, i. 307. Antiochus Hierax, iii. 60. Antipater, i. 64, 197, 205, 215. Antony and Cleopatra, ii. 127. Apelles the painter, i. 16, 153; ii. 122, 133. Appius Claudius, v. 89. Arcesilaus and Apelles, ii. 133. Archelaus of Macedon, i. 67, 193. Archidamus, i. 74. Archimedes, ii. 174; v. 71. Archytas of Tarentum, i. 18, 24. Aristippus, i. 11, 55, 147, 459; ii. 55. Athenian barber, iv. 238. Attalus and Eumenes, iii. 61. Augustus Caesar and Fulvius, iv. 235, 236. Bocchoris, i. 63. Brasidas, ii. 458. Caesar, i. 293; iv. 204, 205; v. 67. Cato, i. 295; ii. 490. Cato and Catulus, i. 73. Cleon, v. 100, 116. Corinna, v. 404. Crassus, i. 288, 290. Croesus and Solon, ii. 122. Demades and Phocion, ii. 298. Demaratus and Philip, ii. 146. Demetrius Phalereus, ii. 145; iii. 21. Demosthenes, i. 15, 65, 334; ii. 460; v. 43-53. Diogenes, i. 51, 67, 141, 142, 166, 283, 285, 311, 487; ii. 455, 458; iii, 21, 29. Diogenes and Philip, ii. 147. Diogenes and the mouse, ii. 453. Dion, i. 64, 333. Dionysius of Syracuse, i. 83, 152, 493; ii. 108, 140; iv. 238. Epaminondas, v. 72, 95, 101, 120, 121, 125, 401. Euclid, i. 55. Eudoxus, ii. 174. Eumenes, iii. 61; iv. 232. Fulvius and Augustus, iv. 235, 236. Hiero, i. 291. Hyperides, v. 55, 56. Isocrates, v. 31. Leaena, iv. 229, 230. Lucretia, i. 355. Lycurgus, the lawgiver, i. 7. Lycurgus, the orator, v. 39. Lysander, i. 72; ii. 495. Lysias, iv. 226. Magas, i. 45. Menander, v. 403. Nasica, i. 285. Nero, v. 123. Nicias, the Athenian general, i. 177. Nicias, the painter, ii. 173; v. 71. Nicostratus and Archidamus, i. 74. Olympias, ii. 494, 495. Pericles, i. 15, 18, 66, 211, 332; ii. 309, 315; v. 67, 106. Philip of Macedon, i. 305; ii. 146, 147, 494. Phocion, ii. 298; v. 118. Pindar, v. 404. Pisistratus, iii. 41. Plato, i. 71. Plato and Socrates, ii. 148. Polemon, i. 55. Pompey, v. 70. Postumia, i. 290. Priest of Hercules, iii. 90. Prometheus, i. 289. Ptolemy Lagus, i. 45. Pythagoras, ii. 174. Roman Senator and his wife, iv. 233-235. Scaurus, i. 295. Scilurus, a Scythian king, iv. 244. Seleucus Callinicus, iv. 237. Seneca, i. 53. Simonides, v. 68. Socrates, i. 11, 13, 23, 26, 38, 53, 141, 150. Socrates and Plato, ii. 148. Solon, v. 89. Solon and Croesus, ii. 122. Sophocles, v. 68. Stasicrates, i. 495. Stilpo the philosopher, ii. 468. Stratonicus, iii. 21. Sylla, v. 72. Terpander, i. 91, 92. Themistocles, i. 73, 290, 296; iii. 21; v. 120. Theramenes, i. 306. Timotheus the musician, i. 92. Valeria, i. 356. Xanthippe, wife of Socrates, i. 53, 292. Xenocrates, i. 71. Xenophon, i. 333. Xerxes and Ariamenes, iii. 59, 60. Zeno, i. 72, 142, 283; ii. 455; iii. 25; iv. 225.

Anger, concerning the cure of, i. 33-59.

Animal Food, shall it be eaten? Of Eating of Flesh, v. 3-16.

Animals, generation of, iii. 186; how many species of, 187; appetites and pleasures of, 191; ails and cures of, 510; their intelligence, v. 157-217.

Anius, king of the Tuscans, v. 475.

Antalcidas, his sayings, i. 222, 402; his reply to a railing Athenian, v. 125.

Anthes, the first author of hymns, i. 105.

Anthias, the sacred fish, v. 208.

Anthipphus, Lydian harmony first used by, i. 114.

Antichthon, the, iii. 155.

Antigonus, anecdote of, i. 25; saying of, 44, 47, 67, 202, 205, 334, 484; iv. 231.

Antigonus the Second, his sayings, i. 205; ii. 319.

Antimachus, anecdote of, i. 308.

Antiochus and Charicles, iii. 49.

Antiochus and Seleucus, iii. 60.

Antiochus, apothegm of, i. 403.

Antiochus Hierax, anecdotes of, i. 206; iii. 60.

Antiochus Sidetes, anecdotes of, i. 207.

Antiochus the Spartan, his saying, i. 221.

Antiochus the Third, anecdotes of, i. 206.

Antipater, anecdotes of, i. 64, 197, 205, 215; ii. 135, 298; iii. 517; v. 49.

Antiperistasis of motion, v. 435.

Antiphanes, witty saying of his, ii. 456.

Antiphon, one of the ten Attic orators, ii. 142; v. 17-21; his birth, education, &c., 17; wrote speeches for others, ib.; a man of great talent and learning, 18; concerned in the revolution which subverted the popular government, ib.; on the overthrow of the oligarchical party he was involved in their ruin, ib.; number of his orations, 19; decree of the senate against him, 20; his condemnation and punishment, 21; opinion concerning the moon, iii. 146; of the sea, 158.

Antisthenes quoted, i. 77, 289, 496; v. 125.

Antony and Cleopatra, ii. 127.

Apelles, the painter, anecdotes of, i. 16, 153; his picture of Alexander, 494; and Megabyzus, ii. 122; and Arcesilaus, 133.

Aphareus, adopted son of Isocrates, wrote orations and tragedies, v. 32.

Apis, the sacred bull of the Egyptians, iv. 68; slain by Ochus, king of Persia, 74, 92.

Apollo and the dragon Python, iv. 20.

Apollo, inventor of the flute and harp, i. 113.

Apollo, temple of, iv. 478-498; the inscription ει over its gate, 479.

Apollodorus, first invented the mixing of colors and the softening of shadows, v. 400.

Apollonides, of shadow, v. 265; of spots in the moon, 269.

Apollonis of Cyzicum, iii. 41.

Apollonius, consolation to, i. 299-339.

Apollonius, the Peripatetic, iii. 57.

Apothegms of Kings and Great Commanders, i. 185-250. Agathocles, sayings of, i. 193. Agesilaus, 219. Agis, 218-221. Alcibiades, 211. Alexander the Great, 198-202. Antalcidas, 222. Antigonus, 202. Antigonus the Second, 205. Antiochus Sidetes, 207. Antiochus the Spartan, 221. Antiochus the Third, 206. Antipater, 205. Archelaus, 193. Archidamus, 218. Aristides, 210. Artaxerxes Longimanus, 187. Artaxerxes Mnemon, 188. Ateas, 189. Augustus Caesar, 248-250. Brasidas, 218. Caecilius Metellus, 239. Caius Fabricius, 227. Caius Marius, 239. Caius Popilius, 240. Cato the Elder, 233-235. Chabrias, 213. Charillus, 217. Cicero, 244. Cneus Domitius, 231. Cneus Pompeius, 241-244. Cotys, 189. Cyrus the Elder, 186. Cyrus the Younger, 188. Darius, 186. Demetrius, 204. Demetrius Phalereus, 217. Dion, 193. Dionysius the Elder, 191. Dionysius the Younger, 192. Epaminondas, 222-226. Eudaemonidas, 221. Eumenes of Pergamus, 206. Fabius Maximus, 227-228. Gelo, 190. Hegesippus, 213. Hiero, 190. Idathyrsus, 189. Iphicrates, 212. Lucullus, 241. Lycurgus, 217. Lysander, 219. Lysimachus, 205. Manius Curius, 226. Memnon, 189. Nicostratus, 221. Orontes, 188. Parysatis, 188. Paulus Aemilius, 232. Pelopidas, 225. Pericles, 211. Philip of Macedon, 194-198. Phocion, 213, 216. Pisistratus, 216. Poltys, 189. Ptolemy Lagus, 202. Pyrrhus the Epirot, 207. Pytheas, 213. Scilurus, 190. Scipio Junior, 235-239. Scipio the Elder, 229. Semiramis, 187. Teres, 189. Themistocles, 208. Theopompus, 217. Timotheus, 212. Titus Quinctius, 230. Xerxes, 187.

Appius Claudius, anecdote of, v. 89.

Apple tree, of the, iii. 333.

Arar, a river in Gaul, v. 484.

Aratus, quoted, iii. 116; of the stars, 141; quoted, 334, 497; iv. 98; v. 112; quoted, 177.

Araxes, a river in Armenia, v. 506.

Arcadian prophet in Herodotus, iii. 38.

Arcadio the Archaean, saying of, i. 44.

Arcesilaus, i. 53, 148; quoted, 258, 315; and Battus, ii. 115; his kindness to Apelles, 133; v. 371.

Archelaus, king of Macedon, anecdote of, i. 67, 193.

Archelaus, his opinions concerning principles, iii. 109.

Archias, ii. 379 et seq.; iv. 314, 315.

Archidamidas, apothegms of, i. 404.

Archidamus, i. 4, 74, 218, 404; ii. 379 et seq.

Archilochus the poet, banished from Sparta, i. 96; quoted, 97; his improvements in music, 122, 123, 177; phrase of, ii. 17, 61, 84; iii. 26; v. 108, 216, 320.

Archimedes, of the sun’s diameter, v. 71; anecdote of, ii. 173, 174.

Archytas of Tarentum, anecdotes of, i. 18, 24.

Ardalus, a minstrel at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 11, 12.

Aregeus, apothegm of, i. 403.

Aretades Cnidus, his Macedonian History, v. 458; his Second Book of Islands, 467.

Aretaphila, her fortitude and virtue, i. 367.

Argive women, their repulse of the Spartan army, i. 346.

Argives, wrestling matches of, i. 121; imposed a fine for playing with more than seven strings, 130; combat of the, with the Lacedaemonians, v. 452.

Ariamenes yields the throne of Persia to his younger brother Xerxes, iii. 59.

Arion and the dolphins, ii. 33-36.

Aristarchus, iii. 36; concerning the eclipse of the sun, 144; v. 246.

Aristides, his Persian History, v. 453.

Aristides, his sayings, i. 210.

Aristides Milesius, his Italian History, v. 451, 452, 453, 458, 459, 460, 462, 463, 465, 466, 469, 473, 474, 475, 476; Italian Commentaries, 461; quoted, 462.

Aristippus, anecdotes of, i. 11, 55, 79, 147; ii. 295, 459.

Aristo of Chios, ii. 369.

Aristobolus, his Third Book of Italian History, v. 470.

Aristocles, Third Book of his Italian History, v. 466, 476.

Aristoclia, a beautiful maiden, iv. 312, 313.

Aristodemus, his Third Collection of Fables, v. 472.

Aristodemus, king of Messenia, i. 177.

Aristodemus the Epicurean, ii. 158, 159, 180.

Aristomenes, preceptor of Ptolemy, ii. 149.

Ariston, apothegm of, i. 403; iii. 18; his opinion of moral virtue, 462; v. 111.

Aristonicus the musician, i. 494.

Aristonymus, a woman hater, v. 468.

Aristophanes, his comedy of “The Clouds,” i. 23; quoted, 79, 125, 500; quoted, ii. 78, 149, 429; his coarseness and buffoonery, iii. 11; compared with Menander, 11-14; quoted, iv. 196, 273; quoted, v. 42, 405.

Aristotinus, tyranny of, i. 357-363; v. 172.

Aristotle, quoted, i. 37; 50; on harmony, 119; 155, 272, 326; the teacher of Alexander, 478, ii. 302, 319; letter of, 455; his philosophical opinions; of nature, 105; of principles and elements, 106; of God, 121; of matter, 123; of ideas, 123; of causes, 124; of a vacuum, 127; of motion, 128; of fortune, 131; of the world, 133, 134, 135; of vacuum, 137; of the world, 137; of heaven, 137; of the stars, 140; of the sun, 142; of the summer and winter solstices, 143; of the moon, 146; of the milky way, 148, 149; of comets, 149; of thunder and lightning, 151; of earthquakes, 157; of tides, 159; of the motion of the soul, 164; of the senses, 166; of the voice, 172; of generative seed, 177; of the sperm, 177; of emission of women, 177; of conception, 178; of generation, 179; of the first form in the womb, 184; of seven months’ children, 185; of the species of animals, 187; of sleep, 189; of plants, 190; quoted, 225, 226; opinions concerning the soul, 465; opinion concerning a plurality of worlds, iv. 33; concerning prophetic inspiration, 54; v. 189, 253, 262, 313, 316, 355; quoted, 439; the Second Book of Paradoxes, 468.

Aristoxenus, of music, i. 114, 115, 125, 134.

Arsinoe, Queen, i. 319.

Artaxerxes Longimanus, his sayings, i. 187.

Artaxerxes Mnemon, his sayings, i. 188.

Aruntius and Medullina, v. 463.

Asclepiades, opinions: of the soul, iii. 161; of respiration, 174; of two or three children at one birth, 180; animals in the womb, 188; of health, sickness, and old age, 193.

Aster the archer, v. 456.

Astycratidas, apothegm of, i. 405.

Ateas, saying of, i. 189; ii. 177.

Atepomarus, king of the Gauls, v. 469.

Atheism and superstition compared, i. 168 et seq.

Athenian citizens, their number, v. 42; their temper and disposition, 100.

Athenians, whether they were more renowned for their warlike achievements, or for their learning, v. 399-411.

Athenodorus, memorable action of, iii. 50.

Athens, was a democracy, v. 397; the nurse of history, of painting, and poetry, 400, 401; not renowned for epic or lyric verse, 404.

Atoms, doctrine of, v. 345-348.

Atreus and Thyestes, v. 470, 471.

Attalus and Eumenes, their kindness and fidelity to each other, iii. 61, 62.

Attica, invasion of, by Datis, v. 450, 451.

Augustus Caesar, his sayings, i. 248-250; the favored son of Fortune, iv. 205; v. 67.

Augustus Caesar and Fulvius, anecdote of, iv. 235, 236.

Autobulus, v. 156 et seq.

Autumn, dreams in, iii. 432.

B.

Baccho, iv. 256, 264, 269.

Bacchus, ii. 12, 29.

Ballenaeus, mount, v. 492.

Banishment, or flying one’s country, iii. 15-35.

Banquet of the Seven Wise Men; Solon, Bias, Thales, Anacharsis, Cleobulus, Pittacus, Chilo, ii. 3-41.

Barley, sow, in dust, iii. 505.

Barrenness in women, iii. 181.

Barrenness of mules, iii. 182.

Bashfulness, i. 60-77.

Basilocles, iii. 69, 70.

Baths, hot and cold, iii. 512.

Battus, ii. 115.

Bear, cunning of the, v. 185.

Bears, flesh of, iii. 509.

Beasts, flesh of sacrificial, iii. 361.

Bees, cannot abide smoke, iii. 515; stinging of, 516.

Bellerophon, fable of, i. 351.

Berecyntus, mount, v. 490.

Berosus concerning the eclipse of the moon, iii. 146.

Bewitching, power of, iii. 327.

Bias, quoted, i. 17, 406; at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 4, 14, 128.

Bion, saying of, i. 76; his opinion concerning the punishment of children for the sins of their fathers, iv. 171; saying of, v. 170.

Bird or the egg, which was first, iii. 242-246.

Birds, prophetic nature of, v. 193.

Birth, two or three at one, iii. 180.

Birthdays of famous men, iii. 400.

Biton and Cleobis, their filial piety, i. 313.

Boar and the toil, iii. 512.

Bocchoris, anecdote of, i. 63.

Bodies, of, iii. 124; division of, 126; how mixed with one another, 126.

Body, passions of the, iii. 175; what part is first formed, 184; diseases of the, iv. 504-508.

Boedromion, month of, iii. 444.

Boethus, his opinion concerning comets, iii. 150.

Book of Rivers, v. 455.

Brasidas, apothegm of, i. 218; ii. 458.

Brennus, king of the Gauls, v. 460.

Britain, longevity in, iii. 193.

Brixaba, mount, v. 494.

Brotherly love, iii. 36-68.

Brute animals, ails and cures of, iii. 510; their intelligence; which are the more crafty, water or land animals? v. 157-217.

Brute beasts make use of reason, v. 218-233.

Bucephalus, the horse, v. 183.

Bulimy, or the greedy disease, iii. 355.

Busiris, king of Egypt, strangers murdered by, v. 474.

C.

Caecilius Metellus, apothegm of, i. 239.

Caesar, Augustus, his sayings, i. 248-250; anecdote of, iv. 205; and Fulvius, 235, 236; v. 67, 132.

Caesar, C. Julius, his sayings, i. 246-248; his magnanimity, 293; his reliance on fortune, iv. 205.

Caesar, Tiberius, sayings of, i. 277; ii. 126; iii. 23.

Caicus, a river, v. 503.

Caius Fabricius, apothegm of, i. 227.

Caius Gracchus, i. 40; v. 99.

Caius Marius, apothegm of, i. 239.

Caius Maximus, and his two sons, v. 466.

Caius Popilius, apothegm of, i. 240.

Callicratidas, apothegms of, i. 412; saying of, ii. 187.

Callimachus, saying of, i. 323; iii. 23, 118, 321.

Callisthenes, saying of, i. 37; his Book of Transformations, v. 454; Third Book of the Macedonics, 456; Third Book of History of Thrace, v. 469.

Calpurnius Crassus, liberated from captivity, v. 465.

Calpurnius and Florentia, v. 467.

Calydon, mount, v. 505.

Camillus, anecdote of, iv. 204.

Camma, the Galatian, her revenge, i. 372.

Canus the piper, v. 71.

Caphene and Nymphaeus, i. 348.

Caphisias, ii. 379 et seq.

Carneades, i. 160; a striking observation of his, ii. 123.

Cassius, a Roman traitor, v. 457.

Castor and Pollux, iii. 48.

Cato and Catulus, anecdotes of, i. 73.

Cato, saying of, i. 61; and Catulus, 73; 261; his integrity, 295; his sayings, ii. 42, 72, 76, 318; v. 10, 66, 67; anecdotes of, 83, 112, 120, 123, 144, 155.

Cato the Elder, apothegms of, i. 233-235; anecdote of, ii. 490.

Catoptrics, doctrine of the, v. 257.

Cattle, salt given to, iii. 497.

Catulus, v. 457.

Caucasus, mount, v. 483.

Caudine Forks, defeat of the Romans at the, v. 452, 453.

Causes, of, iii. 123.

Causes of sleep and death, iii. 188.

Celtic women, virtue of the, i. 347.

Cephisocrates, ii. 133.

Cephisophan, a rhetorician, i. 98.

Ceres, mistress of earthly things, v. 285, 286.

Chabrias, his sayings, i. 213.

Chaeremon quoted, Frag., ii. 475.

Chameleon, the, v. 202.

Chaplet of flowers at table, iii. 260-265.

Charicles and Antiochus, iii. 49.

Charillus, his sayings, i. 217, 432; ii. 97, 116.

Charon, the Theban, ii. 381.

Chasms in the earth closed by men leaping into them, v. 454.

Chersias at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 3-41.

Chian women, virtue of the, i. 344.

Children, training of, i. 3-32; similitude to their parents, iii. 180; similitude to strangers, 181.

Chilo, i. 280; at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 3-41.

Chilon, saying of, i. 471.

Chiomara of Galatia, i. 374.

Chorus of the Aeantis, iii. 226-228.

Chorus of the Leontis, iii. 226.

Chromatic scale, in music, i. 117.

Chrysermus, his Peloponnesian History, v. 452; Second Book of Histories, 457.

Chrysippus, ii. 87; his opinion concerning fate, iii. 130; of moral virtue, 462; his doctrines refuted, 488; iv. 372 et seq., 428-477; v. 205; his opinion concerning the cause of cold combated, 324; First Book of Italian History, 468.

Cicero, apothegm of, i. 244; ii. 310; v. 96.

Cilician geese, v. 175.

Cinesias, the lyric poet, i. 180.

Cinna stoned to death, v. 469.

Cios, maids of, i. 354.

Circe, her supposed conversation with Ulysses, v. 218-219.

Cithaeron, mount, v. 479.

Cleanthes, his opinion concerning the stars, iii. 139, 140; v. 176, 420.

Cleobis and Biton, i. 313.

Cleobulus at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 3-41.

Cleodemus, at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 3-41; first brought the cupping-glass into request, 20.

Cleodorus, the physician, ii. 16.

Cleombrotus, i. 413; iv. 3, 4, 26.

Cleomenes, v. 161.

Cleomenes, apothegms of, i. 346, 413, 416.

Cleon, anecdotes of, v. 100, 116.

Clisthenes, vindicated from the aspersions of Herodotus, iv. 343.

Clitonymus, his Italian History, v. 458; Second Book of his Sybaritics, v. 464.

Clitophon, his First Book of Gallican History, v. 460.

Cloelia and Valeria, i. 356.

Clonas, a musical composer, i. 107, 109.

Clouds, eruption of fire out of the, iii. 150; rain, hail, and snow, 151.

Cneus Domitius, apothegm of, i. 231.

Cneus Pompeius, apothegms of, i. 241-244.

Cocles, the Roman, v. 145.

Codrus, king of Athens, v. 462.

Coeranus and the dolphins, v. 215.

Cold, First Principle of, v. 309-330.

Color, does it exist in the dark, v. 344, 345.

Colors, of, iii. 125.

Colotes, the Epicurean, ii. 187; book written by, v. 338; misrepresents Democritus, 341; his doctrines, 349; misrepresents Plato, 355, 356; falls at the feet of Epicurus, 360; disparagement of Socrates, 361; against Stilpo, 367; assaults the Philosophers, 367; condemns the opinion of Epicurus, 368; Cyrenaic philosophers ridiculed, 369; treats Arcesilaus unfairly, 371; absurdity of Epicureanism, 373; opinions of Epicurus, 374; danger of his doctrines, 377, 378, 338-385.

Comets and shooting fires, iii. 149.

Comminius Super, a Laurentine, v. 472.

Common conceptions against the Stoics, iv. 372-427.

Comparison between the actions of the Greeks and Romans, v. 450-476.

Comparison betwixt Aristophanes and Menander, iii. 11-14.

Conception, how it is made, iii. 178.

Concerning Music, i. 102-135.

Concerning such whom God is slow to punish, iv. 140-188.

Concerning the fortune of the Romans, iv. 198-219.

Concerning the virtues of women, i. 340-384.

Conciseness of speech, recommended, iv. 243; examples given, 243, 244.

Conjugal Precepts; Advice to a New-married Couple, ii. 486-507.

Consolation to Apollonius, i. 299-339.

Consolatory Letter from Plutarch to his Wife, Timoxena, on Occasion of the Death of their Daughter, two years old, v. 386-394.

Contingent and possible defined, v. 299.

Contradictions of the Stoics, iv. 428-477.

Cora and Proserpine, v. 285.

Corinna, anecdote of, v. 404.

Corinthian Hall at Delphi, iii. 80-82.

Cornelius Scipio, consul, v. 96, 112, 114, 136.

Cotys, his sayings, i. 189.

Crabs charmed by fifes, v. 163.

Cranes, flight of, v. 175, 203.

Crantor, quoted, i. 300, 304, 324, 326; his opinion of the soul, ii. 327, 328, 345, 349, 360.

Crassus, anecdotes of, i. 288, 290; v. 125.

Crassus Calpurnius, v. 465.

Crassus’s mullet, v. 196.

Crates, i. 141; saying of, 495; ii. 145, 321; opinion of the stars, iii. 140; v. 419, 423.

Cratinus the comic poet, v. 410.

Crato, iii. 198.

Creon’s daughter, i. 472.

Cretinus, the Magnesian, v. 121.

Criticism on passages in Homer, ii. 69-72, 74-84, 89, 90, 91.

Criticism on Sophocles, ii. 72.

Critolaus, his History of the Epirots, v. 455; Fourth Book of Celestial Appearances, 457.

Crocodile, story of a, v. 196, 206, 210.

Croesus, ii. 122; iii. 85; iv. 339.

Cronium, mount, v. 501.

Ctesiphon, his Third Book of the Boeotian History, v. 458.

Ctesiphon the Pancratiast, i. 42.

Curatii and Horatii, v. 461.

Cure of anger, i. 33-59.

Curiosity, of, ii. 424-445; mischiefs of vain, iv. 236.

Cuttle-fish, sign of a storm, iii. 505; wariness of the, v. 200.

Cyanippus, a Syracusan, v. 462.

Cyanippus, a Thessalian, v. 463.

Cyclades islands, iii. 24.

Cycloborus, a brook near Athens, v. 110.

Cynaegirus, an Athenian commander, story of, v. 450.

Cyprus, female parasites of, called Steps, ii. 103.

Cyrus the Elder, his sayings, i. 186; ii. 319; enlarges the Persian empire, iv. 85.

Cyrus the Younger, his sayings, i. 188.

D.

Daemon of Socrates, Discourse concerning the, ii. 378-423.

Daemons, their nature, attributes, and actions, iv. 14 et seq.; some of them are malignant and cruel, 19; they are mortal, 15, 23, 24; vainglorious, 28; have the care of oracles, 21, 27; sometimes have quarrels and combats with one another, 27; our souls are by nature endued with similar powers, 50 et seq.; in the Moon, v. 289; will of the, 304; providence of the, 307, 308.

Damindas, apothegm of, i. 407.

Damis, apothegm of, i. 406.

Damonidas, apothegm of, i. 406.

Darius, his sayings, i. 186, 502; v. 458.

Darkness, whether visible, iii. 169.

Datis, a Persian commander, his invasion of Attica, v. 450.

Daughters who had carnal knowledge of their fathers, v. 464.

Death appertains to soul or body, iii. 189.

Death a reward for distinguished piety; illustrated by the cases of Biton and Cleobis, of Agamedes and Trophonius, of Pindar and Euthynous, i. 313, 314.

Death of fire is the generation of air, v. 316.

Death the brother of sleep, i. 311.

Debates at entertainments, iii. 394.

Debt, Evils of. Against running in Debt, or Taking up Money upon Usury, v. 412-424.

Debt of nature, i. 309.

Decius of Rome, v. 462.

Decrees proposed to the Athenians, v. 58.

Deity, knowledge of a, whence derived, iii. 115.

Delay of Providence in Punishing the Wicked. De sera Numinis Vindicta, iv. 140-188.

Delight in hearing the passions of men represented, iii. 314.

Delphi, a walk in, iii. 69; the statues there, 70; atmosphere of, 72; ancient oracles of, 73; Corinthian Hall at, 80-82; statue of Phryne, 83.

Delphic Oracle, inscription on the, Know thyself, and Nothing too much, i. 328.

Demades and Phocion, anecdotes of, ii. 298; v. 108, 141.

Demaratus and Philip, anecdote of, ii. 146.

Demaratus, apothegm of, i. 407, 482; his Second Book of Arcadian History, v. 461.

Demetrius Phalereus, his saying, i. 217; anecdotes of, ii. 145; iii. 21; v. 145.

Demetrius, his sayings, i. 204.

Demetrius of Tarsus, comes to Delphi, iv. 3.

Demochares, a nephew of Demosthenes, procures a statue to be set up for his uncle, v. 58-60; a decree for a statue for himself, 60, 61.

Democracy and Oligarchy, v. 395-398.

Democrates, saying of, v. 109.

Democritus, saying of, i. 22, 263, 275; ii. 440; iii. 7; his philosophical opinions, 121, 123, 126, 127, 128, 129, 132, 133, 135, 139, 140, 142, 145, 149, 155, 156, 157, 160, 162, 163, 164, 166, 168, 169, 171, 176, 177, 179, 183, 187, 227; his opinions misrepresented, v. 341; his doctrine concerning atoms, 345, 346, 381.

Demodocus, i. 105.

Demonides, the cripple, ii. 51.

Demosthenes, the orator, anecdotes of, i. 15, 65; quoted, 67, 286, 325; anecdote of, 334, 481; quoted, ii. 145, 300, 312, 313; anecdote of, 460; quoted, iv. 212; quoted, v. 34, 35; sketch of his life, 43-53; his birth, education, and early years, 43; calls his guardians to account, ib.; is chosen choregus, 44; his methods to obtain excellence in speaking, ib.; opposes the designs of Philip, 45; describes “action” as of supreme importance in oratory, ib.; his early failures as an orator, ib.; defends the Olynthians, 46; is admired by Philip, though an enemy, ib.; his magnanimity, 47; his conduct at Chaeronea, ib.; his patriotism, ib.; the oration for the Crown, ib.; accused of receiving a bribe, 48; his exile, ib.; recalled, ib.; returns to the administration of public affairs, 49; leaves Athens to avoid being delivered up to Antipater, ib.; his death, 50; his family, ib.; honors paid to his memory, 51; anecdotes of him, 49, 50-53; his great temperance, 53; his public services recounted in a decree, 58-60; quoted, 69, 109, 110, 124, 138, 146, 409, 411, 447, 448.

Dercyllidas, apothegm of, i. 407.

Dercyllus, his First Book of Foundations, v. 461; Third Book of Italian History, 474.

Destiny, or fate, iii. 130.

Deucalion [like Noah] sent forth a dove from the ark, and with like purpose, v. 179.

Diagoras the Melian, iii. 118.

Diana Orthia, rites of, i. 98.

Dicaearchus, opinion concerning the soul, iii. 161; of divination, 176; v. 93.

Dignity of places at table, iii. 210, 212.

Dinarchus, an Athenian orator, v. 57, 58; becomes rich, 57; his exile in Chalcis, 58; restored, ib.; his orations, ib.

Diocles, at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 3-41; his philosophical opinions, iii. 179, 182, 185, 192.

Diogenes Laertius quoted, i. 77.

Diogenes, quoted, i. 4, 12; anecdotes of, 51, 67, 141, 142, 166, 283, 285, 311, 487; quoted, ii. 58, 155, 193; 455, 458, 465, 466; story of the mouse, 453; iii. 21, 27, 29, 31; his philosophical opinions, 132, 136, 138, 143, 148, 163, 183, 187, 189, 494; iv. 311; v. 8, 65.

Diogenes and Philip, ii. 147.

Diogenianus, iii. 71, 73, et seq.

Diomedes, ii. 41; liberated from captivity, v. 465.

Dion, example of, i. 64, 193, 333.

Dionysius, tyrant of Sicily, does not relish the Lacedaemonian broth, i. 83; his unreasonable anger, 152; his sayings, 449, 484, 491; his ungenerous behavior, 493; parasites of, ii. 166; 314; anecdote of, iv. 238.

Dionysius and Plato, ii. 108, 140.

Dionysius the Elder, his sayings, i. 191; v. 84.

Dionysius the Younger, his sayings, i. 192, 501.

Diophantus, saying of, i. 4.

Diorphus, mount, v. 507.

Discourse to an Unlearned Prince, iv. 323-330.

Diseases of the body, iv. 504-508.

Divination, of, iii. 176; iv. 59.

Dog, habit of biting of stones, iii. 516; affection for his master, v. 180, 182, 184; docility of the, 191.

Dolphin, sagacity of the, v. 200; nature of the, 204; story of a, 213; its love of music, 214; stories of affection of, 215, 216.

Dolphin and Arion, ii. 33-36; and the lad of Jasus, v. 215.

Domitian is mentioned [which fixes the era of Plutarch], ii. 443.

Domitius, anecdote of, i. 288, 295; v. 125.

Dorian Mood of music, i. 109, 115.

Dorians pray for bad making of their hay, iii. 504.

Dorotheus, his First Book of Transformations, v. 466; his Fourth Book of Italian History, v. 463.

Dositheus, his Third Book of Sicilian History, v. 463, 471, 472, 474; Third Book of Lydian History, 469; his Pelopidae, 471; First Book of Italian History, 475.

Dream, a romantic, ii. 407-411.

Dreams and Omens, ii. 401, 402.

Dreams in Autumn, iii. 432.

Dreams, whence do they arise, iii. 176.

Drink either five or three, iii. 282-284.

Drink passeth through the lungs, iii. 363.

E.

Earth, its nature and magnitude, iii. 154; figure of the, 155; site and position of the, 155; inclination of the, 155; motion of the, 156; zones of the, 156; exhalations from the, iv. 53; its form and its place, v. 247; an instrument of time, 439.

Earthquakes, of, iii. 157.

Echo, what gives the, iii. 172.

Eclipse of the moon, iii. 146.

Eclipses of the sun, iii. 144.

Ecphantus, his opinion concerning the motion of the earth, iii. 156.

Egg or the bird, which was first, iii. 242-246.

Egypt, its Religion and Philosophy; of Isis and Osiris, or of the Ancient Religion and Philosophy of Egypt, iv. 65-139.

Egyptian skeleton at feasts, ii. 7.

Egyptians in Ethiopia, iii. 20.

Ει, at Apollo’s temple at Delphi, iv. 479-498.

Eleans, the, v. 426.

Elements, mixture of the, iii. 126.

Elephant, understanding of the, v. 178; stories of, 178; of King Porus, 183; most beloved by the Gods, 187; amour of the, 188; chirurgery of the, 192.

Elephas, mount, v. 478.

Elysian fields in the moon, v. 289.

Elysius the Terinean, vision of, i. 314.

Embryo, how nourished, iii. 183; is an animal, ib.

Empedocles, i. 59; saying of, 158, 469; quoted, ii. 49, 195; 357; quoted, iii. 34, 81; his philosophical opinions, 112, 114, 125-129, 131, 132, 136-138, 143, 145, 147, 154, 158, 163, 165, 168-170, 173, 178-184, 188-191; quoted, 209, 262, 293, 333, 497, 509, 518; quoted, iv. 21, 52, 85, 87, 108, 273; quoted, v. 169, 239, 246, 249, 252, 255, 318, 348, 350, 351; misunderstood by Colotes, 351; quoted, 381, 420, 421, 439.

Emprepes, apothegm of, i. 408.

Enemies, how a man may profit by his, i. 280-298.

Entertainment, late to an, iii. 417.

Envy and Hatred, ii. 95-99.

Epaminondas, his sayings, i. 222-226, 277; his great actions, 225; his consistency of character, ii. 109; 182, 185, 309, 313, 319, 381, 396, 399, 414; iii. 6; v. 72, 75, 95, 101, 121, 125; his invasion of Laconia, 401, 407, 458.

Epaminondas, son of, beheaded, v. 458.

Ephorus, his opinion concerning the overflowing of the Nile, iii. 161.

Epicharmus, quoted, i. 315, 496; ii. 141; iv. 242.

Epicureans, misrepresentations of the, v. 352-354.

Epicurus, quoted, i. 138, 139, 159; famous sentence of, ii. 92; his doctrine; refutation of it; pleasure is not attainable, 157-203; reverence of his brothers, iii. 57; his philosophical opinions, 111, 122, 124, 127, 128, 131, 134, 135, 139, 142, 143, 151, 163, 164, 165, 169, 177, 183; opinions of, v. 350, 374; danger of his doctrines, 377, 378; disciples of, 383, 385.

Epigenes, opinion concerning comets, iii. 150.

Epimenides, long sleep of, v. 66; 279.

Erasistratus, his opinion of the soul, iii. 163; of superfetation, 180; his definition of a fever, 192.

Eratosthenes, his philosophical opinions: of time, iii. 128; of the sun, 147; v. 456.

Erectheus, sacrifice of his daughter, v. 463.

Eryxo of Cyrene, i. 378.

Esop, fable of, ii. 11, 12, 16, 19-22, 23; dog of, 25; at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, 3-41; iii. 63, 202.

Eteocles the Theban, i. 257.

Euboea, king of, drawn in pieces by horses, v. 455.

Euboidas, apothegm of, i. 408.

Euclid, anecdote of, i. 55; ii. 173.

Euclides, his brotherly love, iii. 61.

Euctus and Eulaeus, ii. 146.

Eudaemonidas, his sayings, i. 221.

Eudamidas, apothegm of, i. 408.

Eudemus, of matter, ii. 334.

Eudorus, system of numbers, ii. 343, 345.

Eudoxus, anecdotes of, ii. 174; his opinion of the cause of winter and summer, iii. 141; of the overflow of the Nile, 161.

Euemerus, his opinion of God, iii. 118.

Eumenes of Pergamus, his sayings, i. 206; anecdotes of, iii. 61, iv. 232.

Eumetis at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 3-41; her riddle, 20.

Euphorion quoted, iii. 321.

Euphranor, the painter, v. 400.

Euphrates, the river, v. 502.

Eupolis, saying of, ii. 112.

Euripides, quoted, i. 3, 158, 291, 300, 301, 302, 308, 320, 329, 330, 335, 458; Hippol., 4, 14, 471; Protesilaus, 23; Dictys, 26, 58; Bellerophon, 63, 141; Frag., 287, 472; Pirithous, 70; Orestes, 37, 137, 140, 165, 170, 286; Medea, 64, 71, 255; Iph. Aul., 152, 302; Bacchae, 163; Troad, 170; Phoeniss, 257, 303, 327; Danae, 307; Adrastus, 288; Stheneboea, 301; Ino, 303, 304; Alcestis, 310; Suppliants, 316; Cresphontes, 316; Erectheus, 500; Hypsipyle, 317, 465; ii. 54, 56, 62, 87, 92, 121, 148, 150, 251, 300, 306, 357, 363, 391, 472; Cresphontes, 93; Hippol., 73, 108, 173, 198, 373, 374; Frag., 86, 181, 318, 437, 501; Orestes, 143, 443; Medea, 66; Iph. Aul., 49, 85; Phoeniss, 51, 61, 66, 130, 151; Ion, 102, 144; Ino, 131; Erectheus, 132; Electra, 85; Aeolus, 66, 85, 88, 175; Herc. Furens, 151; Hecuba, 197; Iph. Taur., 447; iii. 27, 99, 116, 194; Frag., 3, 19, 33, 41, 42, 94, 230, 458, 475, 512; Hippol., 483; Orestes, 168, 437; Phoeniss, 16, 32, 43, 49, 257; Stheneboea, 217; Iph. Taur., 21; Androm., 232; Hipsipyle, 291, iv. 17, 128, 142, 270, 308, 450, 478, 497; Frag., 47, 220, 233, 251, 272, 273, 292, 301, 325, 392, 461, 475; Bacchae, 223, 272, 422, 506; Hippol., 294, 298; Cyclops, 56; Aeolus, 105; Troad, 132; Orestes, 141, 507; Ino, 158, 231; Alcestis, 197; Danae, 274, 283; Stheneboea, 288; Androm., 401; Herc. Furens, 459, 467; v. 126, 128, 157, 172; Frag., 15, 79, 105, 108, 118, 345; Aeolus, 71; Hippol., 158; Iph. Taur., 374; Orestes, 77, 380; Troad, 440; Erectheus, 463; Meleager, 466.

BOOK IX. (part 15)

Eurotas, a river in Laconia, v. 497.

Eurycratidas, apothegm of, i. 410.

Eurydice of Hierapolis, her epigram, i. 32.

Euthrymenes, his opinion of the overflow of the Nile, iii. 160.

Euthynous and Pindar, i. 313.

Eutropion, anecdote of, i. 25.

Evenus quoted, ii. 102, 192.

Evenus, son of Mars, v. 475.

Exercises, different kinds of, iii. 248-250.

Exile, consolations of, iii. 15-35.

Eyes, images of the, iii. 169.

F.

Fabius Maximus, his sayings, i. 227, 228; in the Punic war, v. 453.

Fable of Minerva, i. 41.

Fable of the defeat of Neptune, iii. 444.

Fable of the Fox and Leopard, ii. 21.

Fable of the Lydian Mule, ii. 11.

Fabricianus, v. 474.

Fabricius, iv. 201.

Face appearing in the moon, v. 234-292.

Fasting creates more thirst than hunger, iii. 339.

Fate, or destiny, iii. 130; nature of, 130; v. 293-308.

Faunus, king of Italy, strangers murdered by, v. 474.

Fever, cause of a, iii. 192.

Fig-trees, of, iii. 250, 335.

Figures, of, iii. 125.

Filial treachery in Persian and Roman history, v. 458.

Fire or water, which is more useful, v. 331-337.

Firmus and Nuceria, v. 471.

Fish called the fisherman, v. 201.

Fish, eating of, iii. 422.

Fisherman’s nets, rotting of, iii. 503.

Fishes, of; the labrax, mullet, scate, anthias, dolphin, cuttle-fish, star-fish, torpedo, the fisherman, tunny, amiae, pionetras, sponge, porphyrae, hegemon, whale, pinoterus, gilthead, phycides, galeus, tortoise, v. 195, 209.

Fittest time for a man to know his wife, iii. 274-279.

Fives, we reckon by, iv. 43-47.

Five tragical histories of Love, iv. 312-322.

Flattery: How to know a Flatterer from a Friend, ii. 100-156.

Flattery fatal to whole kingdoms, ii. 118.

Flesh exposed to the moon, iii. 284-287.

Flute girls, whether they are to be admitted to a feast, iii. 387.

Folly of Seeking Many Friends, i. 464-474.

Food, digesting of, iii. 289-295.

Fortune, of, ii. 475-481; iii. 131; is a cause by accident, v. 302; not the same as chance, 303; relates to men only, 303.

Fortune of the Romans, iv. 198-219.

Fox, cunning of the, v. 179.

Fresh water washes clothes better than salt, iii. 224-226.

Friends, folly of seeking many, i. 464-474.

Frogs, croaking of, v. 210.

Frost makes hunting difficult, iii. 510.

Fruit, salt not found in, iii. 498.

Fulvius and Augustus, anecdotes of, iv. 235, 236.

Fulvius Stellus, v. 468.

Fundanus, i. 34, 35.

G.

Galaxy, or milky way, iii. 148.

Galeus, affection of, for their young, v. 209.

Ganges, the river, v. 481.

Garlands at sacred games, iii. 411.

Garrulity, or Talkativeness, iv. 220-253.

Gauran, mount, v. 508.

Gelo, his saying, i. 190.

Generation and corruption, iii. 128.

Generation of males and females, iii. 178; of animals, 186; of the Gods, 400.

Generative seed, iii. 177.

Geniuses and heroes, opinions concerning, iii. 122.

Germanicus, ii. 96.

Gnatho the Sicilian, iii. 3.

Gobryas, a Persian noble, ii. 104.

God always plays the Geometer, saying attributed to Plato, iii. 402.

God bade Socrates act the midwife’s part, v. 425.

God, Father and Maker of all things, v. 428.

God, what is, iii. 118.

Gods, generation of the, iii. 400.

Gorgias, i. 340; at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 3-41; 44, 134; ii. 502; v. 405.

Government. Of the Three Sorts of Government, Monarchy, Democracy, and Oligarchy, v. 395-398.

Gracchus, Caius, example of, i. 40.

Greek music, principles of, i. 102, 103.

Greek Questions, ii. 265-293.

Groom, saying of the king’s, i. 21.

Gryllus, v. 218 et seq.

Guests, should the entertainer seat the, iii. 203-210; to a wedding supper, 300; that are called shadows, iii. 381.

Gylippus, his dishonesty, i. 23.

H.

Habits of animals, v. 173-177.

Halcyon, of the, v. 211.

Halo, of the, iii. 160.

Hannibal and Fabius, i. 228.

Hares, cunning of the, v. 185.

Harp, an invention of Apollo, i. 113.

Hart, tears of the, iii. 507.

Health, preservation of, i. 251-279.

Health, sickness, and old age, iii. 192.

Hearing, of, i. 441-463; iii. 170.

Heaven, its nature and essence, iii. 137; division of, 137.

Hebrus, a river of Thrace, v. 480.

Hedgehog, ingenuity of the, v. 186.

Hedgehog of the sea, v. 203.

Hegemon, of the fish, v. 206.

Hegesippus, sayings of, &c., i. 213.

Hegesistratus, an Ephesian, v. 476.

Helicon the mathematician, i. 57.

Hephaestion, the friend of Alexander, i. 489, 505.

Heracleo, v. 194.

Heraclides, his compendium of music, i. 105; ii. 158; his philosophical opinions, iii. 139, 149, 156, 159, 165.

Heraclides the wrestler, iii. 220.

Heraclitus, i. 44, 79, 276, 308, 448, 453; ii. 74, 165, 330, 358, 477; iii. 26, 74; his philosophical opinions, 111, 125, 128, 130, 131, 143, 144, 145, 146, 162; apothegm, v. 9; quoted, 73, 169, 425.

Hercules and Iole, v. 459.

Hercules in Antisthenes, precept of, i. 77.

Hercules, ridiculous representation of, v. 70; and King Faunus, 474.

Hercules the woman-hater, his temple in Phocis, iii. 90; singular anecdote, ib.

Hermes, iv. 74.

Hermias, v. 121.

Hermogenes, ii. 194.

Herodotus, quoted, i. 80, 441; saying of, ii. 202, 489; Arcadian prophet, iii. 38; quoted, iv. 248, 335 et seq.; malice of, iv. 331-371; v. 397.

Herondas, apothegm of, i. 410.

Herons, artifices of the, v. 176.

Herophilus, opinion of, iii. 128, 163.

Hesianax, his Third Book of African History, v. 465.

Hesiod, quoted, Works and Days, i. 22, 65, 70, 138, 156, 178, 261, 296, 307, 325; Works and Days, ii. 24; spare diet recommended by, 27; and the dolphin, 36, 37; Works and Days, 63, 64, 65, 73, 87, 92, 302, 303, 449, 452, 480, 483; Theogony, 102; Works and Days, iii. 64, 210, 382, 416, 436, 438; Theogony, 118, 324, 458; iv. 15; Works and Days, 48, 49, 68, 87, 154, 173, 264, 385, 442, 457; Theogony, 53; Works and Days, v. 153, 168, 172, 279.

Hicetes, his opinion of the earth, iii. 154.

Hiero, his sayings, i. 190; anecdote of, 291.

Hiero the Spartan, statue of, iii. 76.

Hiero the Tyrant, statue of, iii. 75.

Hieronymus, saying of, i. 38, 50, 462.

Himerius, an Athenian parasite, ii. 126.

Hippasus, opinions of, iii. 111.

Hippocrates, saying of, i. 40; quoted, 261, 292; ii. 165, 185; his magnanimity, ii. 466.

Hippocratidas, apothegm of, i. 412.

Hippodamus, apothegm of, i. 411.

Hippolytus, son of Theseus, v. 471, 472.

Hippomachus, ii. 294.

Hipponax, i. 108.

History of music, i. 104 et seq.

History of wind instruments, i. 108.

Homer, passages in, criticised, ii. 69-72, 74-84, 89, 90.

Homer quoted: Iliad, i. 34, 38, 39, 51, 52, 55, 62, 104, 132, 133, 134, 138, 141, 151, 153, 154, 156, 161, 165, 178, 180, 181, 200, 236, 251, 292, 303, 305, 306, 310, 324, 325, 329, 330, 331, 385, 466, 469, 475, 486, 490, 507, 508, 510, 511; ii. 25, 32, 41, 44, 47, 48, 49, 52, 53, 55, 56, 59, 62, 63, 65, 67, 68, 74, 75, 77, 79, 81, 82, 84, 88, 89, 90, 91, 108, 114, 115, 120, 123, 131, 140, 142, 145, 150, 151, 152, 154, 185, 197, 198, 200, 237, 295, 305, 310, 311, 314, 317, 319, 413, 501, 505; iii. 25, 26, 47, 53, 54, 107, 120, 152, 206, 207, 221, 231, 248, 255, 285, 301, 313, 317, 321, 323, 325, 336, 354, 364, 381, 394, 401, 413, 418, 437, 442, 447, 448, 449, 450, 480, 486, 492, 493, 515; iv. 16, 65, 108, 111, 152, 191, 194, 195, 216, 237, 238, 280, 285, 291, 327, 329, 383, 386, 401, 405, 434, 462, 483, 490, 499, 504; v. 78, 79, 85, 88, 90, 92, 96, 104, 119, 122, 123, 134, 135, 138, 146, 147, 171, 182, 200, 208, 214, 266, 276, 281, 315, 339, 350, 371, 386, 394, 400, 418, 443, 444, 447; Odyss. i. 52, 134, 138, 154, 236, 252, 305, 310, 318, 325, 452, 469; ii. 41, 43, 47, 48, 52, 53, 54, 56, 59, 63, 65, 67, 70, 71, 82, 83, 108, 110, 114, 115, 127, 149, 158, 159, 162, 184, 195, 304, 316, 317, 320, 371, 427, 463, 467, 478; iii. 10, 42, 45, 72, 81, 101, 196, 201, 207, 226, 232, 233, 249, 259, 280, 333, 359, 365, 395, 419, 425, 437, 438, 451, 466, 477, 499; iv. 5, 30, 86, 97, 191, 200, 219, 224, 226, 230, 231, 289, 307, 325, 401, 405; v. 3, 11, 105, 106, 143, 171, 184, 281, 285, 290, 315, 323, 403, 416, 422, 423, 446.

Horatii and Curatii, v. 460, 461.

Horatius Cocles, v. 456.

Horsehair for fishing lines, iii. 505.

Horses, called λυκοσπάδες, iii. 253.

Horus, son of Osiris, iv. 80, 114 et seq.

Hounds that hunt hares, v. 184.

How a man may praise himself without being envied, ii. 306.

How a man may receive advantage and profit from his enemies, i. 280-298.

How animals are begotten, iii. 186.

How a young man ought to hear poems, ii. 42.

How plants grow, and whether they are animals, iii. 190.

How to know a flatterer, ii. 100-156.

Hunger, cause of, iii. 341; allayed by drinking, 345.

Hurricanes, of, iii. 150.

Hyagnis, first that sung to the pipe, i. 107.

Hydaspes, a river in India, v. 477.

Hyperides, the Athenian orator, ii. 140; v. 53-57; his part in public affairs, 53; his friendship for Demosthenes, 54; this friendship broken, ib.; demanded by Antipater, he escapes to Aegina, ib.; is apprehended, tortured, and put to death, 55; an excellent orator, ib.; his amorous propensities, 55, 56; his patriotism, 56; sent as ambassador, 56, 57.

Hypsipyle, foster-child of, i, 465.

I.

Ibis, habits of, imitated by the Egyptians, v. 192.

Ibycus, the poet, iv. 240.

Ichneumon, of the, v. 174.

Ida, mount, v. 493.

Idathyrsus, his sayings, i. 189.

Ideas, of, iii. 123.

Images presented to our eyes in mirrors, iii. 169.

Imagination, imaginable and phantom, difference between, iii. 167.

Immortality of the soul, argument for it, iv. 169, 170.

Impotency in men, iii. 181.

Improbabilities of the Stoics, iii. 194-196.

Inachus, a river in Argolis, v. 498.

Incest, case of, v. 467.

Indus, the river, v. 508.

Infants, seven months’, iii. 184.

Inquisitiveness, or vain curiosity; of curiosity, or an over-busy inquisitiveness into things impertinent, ii. 424-445.

Iole, the beloved of Hercules, v. 459.

Ion the tragedian, i. 322, 328; v. 186, 254.

Iphicrates, his saying, i. 80, 212; v. 105.

Iphigenia at Aulis, v. 459, 460.

Irascible faculty, v. 441.

Isaeus, an Athenian orator, v. 33; considered by some equal to Lysias, ib.; the teacher of Demosthenes, ib.; number of his orations, ib.

Isis and Osiris, iv. 66-139.

Ismenodora, iv. 256, 264, 269, 311.

Ismenus, a river of Boeotia, v. 478.

Isocrates, an Athenian orator, iii. 198; v. 27-33; his parentage, birth, and education, 27; composed orations for others, 28; his school at Chios, ib.; his great success as a teacher of rhetoric, ib.; lived to a great age, 29; his death and burial, 30; number of his orations, 31; his timidity, 27, 31; his description of the use of rhetoric, 31; the two suits against him, 32, 409; his Panegyric, 410.

Isthmian games, iii. 318.

Ivy, nature of, iii. 265-268.

J.

Jason, saying of, v. 140.

Jewish religion, statements and conjectures respecting it, iii. 307-312.

Jews, their fatal inaction in war because it was their Sabbath day, i. 178.

Juba, his third Book of Lybian History, v. 465.

L.

Lacedaemonians, their laws and customs, i. 82-101; their currency, 99; influx of gold and silver, 100; refuse to assist Philip and Alexander in their designs against Persia, 101; lose all their ancient glory, 101; combat with the Argives, v. 452.

Lachares, tyranny of, ii. 166.

Laconic answers, iv. 243.

Laconic Apothegms, of, i. 385-440. Acrotatus, 400. Agasicles, 385. Agesilaus, 385-397. Agesipolis, 397, 398. Agis, son of Archidamus, 398. Agis the Last, 400. Agis the Younger, 400. Alcamenes, the son of Teleclus, 400. Alexandridas, 401. Anaxander, 401. Anaxilas, 402. Androclidas, 402. Antalcidas, 402. Antiochus, 403. Archidamidas, 403. Archidamus, son of Agesilaus, 404. Archidamus, son of Zeuxidamus, 404. Aregeus, 403. Ariston, 403. Astycratidas, 405. Bias, 406. Callicratidas, 412. Charillus, 432. Cleombrotus, 413. Cleomenes, son of Cleombrotus, 413, 416. Damindas, 407. Damis, 406. Damonidas, 406. Demaratus, 407. Dercyllidas, 407. Emprepes, 408. Euboidas, 408. Eudamidas, son of Archidamas, 408. Eurycratidas, 410. Herondas, 410. Hippocratidas, 412. Hippodamus, 411. Leonidas, the son of Anaxandrias, 417. Leo, the son of Eucratidas, 417. Leotychides, 416. Lycurgus the Lawgiver, 419-425. Lysander, 425. Namertes, 427. Nicander, 427. Paedaretus, 429. Panthoidas, 427. Pausanias, son of Cleombrotus, 428. Pausanias, son of Plistoanax, 428. Phoebidas, 431. Plistoanax, 430. Polycratidas, 431. Polydorus, 430. Soos, 431. Telecrus, 431. Thectamenes, 411. Themisteas, 410. Theopompus, 410. Thorycion, 411. Zeuxidamus, 410.

Lacydes, King of the Argives, i. 290.

Lais, murder of, iv. 302.

Lampis, a sea commander, v. 73.

Lampsace, anecdote of, i. 366.

Lamps and tables of the ancients, iii. 372.

Land, food of the, iii. 302-306.

Lasus, his innovation upon ancient music, i. 123.

Leaena, anecdote of, iv. 229, 230.

Least things in nature, iii. 125.

Leo, apothegm of, i. 417.

Leo Byzantinus, saying of, i. 288; and his wife, v. 110.

Leonidas, apothegm of, i. 417; vindicated from the statements of Herodotus, iv. 354; v. 157; at Thermopylae, 453.

Leotychides, apothegm of, i. 422.

Leprosy caused by dewy trees, iii. 500.

Leptis, custom in, ii. 499.

Leucippus, his opinions of the world, iii. 135; of the earth, 155; of the senses, 165.

Light and darkness, of, v. 325.

Lightning, of, iii. 150.

Light, of reflected, iii. 168, 169; v. 236 et seq.

Lilaeus, mount, v. 508, 509.

Linus, elegies of, i. 105.

Lions, of, v. 187.

Liquids, of, iii. 359.

Live concealed, whether’t were rightly said, iii. 3-10.

Lives of the ten Attic orators, v. 17-63.

Love: Five tragical histories of, iv. 312-322.

Love, of, iv. 254-311; makes a man a poet, iii. 217-219.

Love of wealth, ii. 294-305.

Lucretia, the Roman matron, i. 355.

Lucullus, apothegm of, i. 241; quoted, iii. 51; v. 84.

Lugdunum, mount, v. 485.

Lyaeus and choraeus, i. 54.

Lybian crows, v. 175.

Lycastus and Parasius, v. 473.

Lycian women, virtue of the, i. 351.

Lycormas, a river in Aetolia, v. 487.

Lycurgus, an Athenian orator, v. 36-42; treasurer of the commonwealth, 36; his great public services, 37; his fidelity in office and great reputation, 37; his justice and integrity, 37, 38; useful laws procured by his influence, 38; his diligence in the study and practice of oratory, 39; his incorruptible honesty, 40; his death, ib.; honors paid to his memory, ib.; his family, 40, 41; his orations and success as an orator, 41; his benevolence, 42; a decree for honors to be paid to his memory, 61-63.

Lycurgus, the Spartan lawgiver, anecdote of, i. 7; his institutions, 82 et seq.; their final overthrow, 101, 217, 419-425; his sayings, ii. 22; v. 12, 92.

Lydian mood of music, i. 109, 114.

Lyric nomes, i. 106.

Lysander, i. 72; his great victory over the Athenians, 99; introduces gold and silver into Lacedaemon, 100; the results, ib.; his sayings, 219, 425; saying of, ii. 149; anecdote of, 495; iii. 100; v. 92.

Lysias, the Athenian orator, his remarks on music, i. 104; anecdote of, iv. 226; v. 24-26; his birth, early residence in Athens, residence in Thurii, and return to Athens, 24; banished by the Thirty Tyrants, 25; return after their overthrow, ib.; death, ib.; number of his orations, ib.; his other works, 26; his eloquence, ib.; v. 33.

Lysimache, the priestess, i. 73.

Lysimachus, his sayings, i. 205, 259.

Lysippus, his statue of Alexander, i. 494.

M.

Madness of animals, v. 167.

Maeander, a river in Asia, v. 488.

Magas, anecdote of, i. 45.

Magpie, story of a, v. 189.

Maimactes, king of the gods, i. 45.

Man, perfection of a, iii. 189; most unhappy of all creatures, iv. 504; compounded of three parts, v. 286.

Maneros, the foster-son of Isis, iv. 79.

Manius Curius, apothegm of, i. 226.

Manlius, son of, beheaded, v. 458.

Man’s progress in virtue, ii. 446-474.

Mantinea, battle of, v. 401.

Marius, sacrifice of his daughter, v. 463.

Mars, some bad actions of his, v. 466, 467.

Marsyas, a river in Phrygia, v. 490.

Marsyas, the musician, i. 41, 108.

Massinissa, his vigorous old age, v. 83.

Mathematics, applied to Music, i. 118-121; affords unspeakable delight, ii. 172, 174.

Matter, of, iii. 122.

Medius, the parasite, ii. 137.

Megasthenes, saying of, v. 275.

Megisto and Micca, and other women of Elis, i. 357-363.

Meilichius, king of the gods, i. 45.

Melanippides, quoted, iv. 278.

Melanthius, quoted, i. 35, 449; ii. 103; iv. 147.

Melian women, virtue of the, i. 348.

Melisponda and Nephalia, i. 59.

Melissus, his opinion of generation, iii, 128.

Memnon, his saying, i. 189.

Menalippides, i. 114, 123.

Menander, quoted, i. 70, 139, 158, 161, 164, 335, 470; quoted, ii. 52, 57, 65, 86, 87, 124, 192, 297; his superiority to Aristophanes, iii. 11-14; quoted, 38, 65, 196, 488; iv. 290; anecdote of, v. 403; saying of, 425.

Mendesian goat, v. 225.

Menedemus, i. 77; ii. 115, 464; his opinion of the nature of moral virtue, iii. 461.

Menelaus, the mathematician, v. 257.

Men, impotency in, iii. 181; elements of, 188; have better stomachs in autumn, 240; temper of, 270-272; when asleep are never thunderstruck, 295-300; having carnal knowledge of brutes, 468.

Menon, his definition of virtue, i. 464.

Menyllus, his First Book of Boeotic History, v. 460; Third Book of Italian History, 467.

Messenians, saying among the, v. 416.

Metellus, quoted, iii. 53; iv. 202; v. 459, 461.

Meteors, of, which resemble rods, iii. 153.

Metiochus, his misuse of power, v. 127.

Metius Fufetius, king of Alba, torn in pieces, v. 455.

Metrocles, i. 144.

Metrodorus, ii. 158, 160, 161, 167, 169, 175, 180, 183, 496; his philosophical opinions, iii. 115, 127, 132, 149, 150, 151, 153, 154, 155, 157, 158; v. 378, 383, 384.

Micca and Megisto, and other women of Elis, i. 357-363.

Midas, i. 326; v. 454.

Miletus, maidens of, i. 354.

Mills of the gods grind slowly, but they grind fine, iv. 143.

Miltiades, v. 407-411.

Mimnermus, quoted, iii. 475.

Mind, tranquillity of the, i. 136-167.

Minerva, admonished by a satyr, i. 41; iii. 195; temple of, v. 461.

Mirrors, causes and reasons of, iii. 169; v. 236 et seq.

Mithridates, i. 204; ii. 121; story of, iii. 219.

Mixture of the elements, iii. 126.

Mnemosyne, the mother of the Muses, i. 22.

Mnesarete, statue of, iii. 83.

Mnesiphilus, at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 3-41.

Mnesitheus, the physician, iii. 511.

Monarchy, Democracy, and Oligarchy, v. 395-398.

Money upon usury, v. 412-424.

Monstrous births, of, iii. 179.

Moon: essence of the, iii. 145; magnitude of the, 145; figure of the, 145; whence her light, 145; eclipses of the, 146; phases of the, 147; distance from the sun, 147; of the face appearing within the orb of the moon, v. 234-292; its distance from the earth, 246; its nature, 253-260; its size, 261; why called Glaucopis, 267; is it inhabited, 274, 275.

Moot point in Homer’s Iliad, iii. 446.

Moral virtue, essay on, iii. 461-494.

Moschio, dialogue on health, i. 251, 252.

Motherland a Cretan expression, v. 85.

Motion, of, iii. 128.

Mount Athos’ shade, v. 270.

Mule and the salt, v. 184.

Mule, superannuated, v. 182.

Mules, barrenness of, iii. 182.

Mullet, of the, v. 213.

Muses, number of the, iii. 450.

Mushrooms produced by thunder, iii. 295-300.

Music, treatise concerning, i. 102-135; pleasures from bad, iii. 376; for entertainments, 389.

Musonius, his rule of health, i. 35.

Must, sweet, iii. 511.

Mycenae, mount, v. 501.

N.

Namertes, apothegm of, i. 427.

Names of rivers and mountains, and of such things as are to be found therein, and the fables connected therewith, v. 477-509.

Nasica, his saying, i. 285.

Natural affection towards one’s offspring, iv. 189-197.

Natural philosophy, iii. 105.

Natural Questions, Plutarch’s, iii. 495-518.

Nature, of, iii. 131; what is, 105; things that are least in, 125; animated, v. 160.

Necessity, of, iii. 129; nature of, 129; defined, v. 299.

Nephalia and Melisponda, i. 59.

Neptune, ii. 38, 39, 41.

Nero, i. 53; iv. 228, 229; anecdote of, v. 123.

New diseases and how caused, iii. 426.

New-married couple, advice to, ii. 486-507.

New wine, of, iii. 279.

Nicander, apothegm of, i. 427, 441.

Nicias Maleotes, quoted, v. 459.

Nicias, the Athenian general, superstition of, i. 177; v. 107.

Nicias, the painter, anecdote of, ii. 173; v. 71.

Nicostratus and Archidamus, i. 74; apothegm of, 221.

Niger, anecdote of, i. 267.

Nightingale, of the, v. 189.

Nile, the river, v. 495; overflow of the, iii. 160; water of the, 415.

Niloxenus, at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 3-41.

Niobe, i. 328.

Noises in the night and day, iii. 406.

Numa, of the reign of, iv. 208-210.

O.

Oenopides, his discovery of the obliquity of the Zodiac, iii. 138.

Ogygia, an island west from Britain and its neighbor islands, described, v. 281-283.

Oil, top of the, iii. 370; on the sea, 503; is transparent, v. 318; does not easily freeze, 319.

Old age, health, and sickness, iii. 192.

Old men, love pure wine, iii. 221; read best at a distance, 222-224; easily foxed, 268-270; in state affairs, v. 64-96.

Oligarchy, Monarchy, and Democracy, v. 395-398.

Olympias, anecdotes of, ii. 494, 495.

Olympus, a Phrygian player, i. 107, 108, 110, 112, 115, 116, 123.

Omens and dreams, ii. 401, 402.

Onesicrates, banquet of, i. 103, 133.

Onomademus, wisdom of, i. 295; v. 129.

Opinions of philosophers, iii. 104-193.

Optatus, v. 171.

Oracle in Cilicia, iv. 55.

Oracles of Delphi, iii. 73.

Oracles, why they cease to give answers, iv. 3-64.

Orestes slays his mother, v. 474.

Origin of things, opinions concerning the, iii. 107-113.

Orontes, his saying, i. 188.

Orpheus never imitated any one, i. 107.

Orphic Fragments, iv. 59, 404.

Oryx, fables of the, v. 193.

Osiris, iv. 75-135; story about his birth, 74; great actions of, 75; his death, 76; his body torn in pieces by Typhon, 80; is identical with Serapis and Bacchus, 89; with the bull Apis, 90; sacred vestments of, 135.

Othryadas, iv. 338.

Otus, the bird, v. 163.

Oxen, teaching of, v. 193.

P.

Paeans, makers of, i. 110.

Paedaretus, apothegm of, i. 429.

Painter, neat saying of a, ii. 378.

Painting is silent poetry, v. 402.

Palladium in Ilium and in Rome, v. 461.

Palm tree, of the, iii. 514.

Panaetius, sayings of, i. 57.

Pancrates, i. 117.

Pandora’s box, i. 306.

Pangaeus, mount, v. 480.

Panthoidas, apothegm of, i. 427.

Papirius Tolucer, v. 468.

Parallels, or a comparison between the actions of Greeks and Romans, v. 450-476.

Parmenides, v. 357; his philosophical opinions: of generation and corruption, iii. 128; of necessity, 129; of the world, 135; of the moon, 145; of the galaxy, 149; of the earth, 155; of earthquakes, 157; of the soul, 163; defended from the misrepresentations of the Epicureans, v. 352-354; quoted, 357, 359, 381.

Partridge, cunning of the, v. 185.

Parysatis, her saying, i. 188.

Passions of the body, iii. 175.

Passions of the soul, or diseases of the body: which are worse, iv. 504, 508.

Paulus Aemilius, apothegm of, i. 232.

Pausanias, the Spartan traitor, v. 457.

Pausanius, i. 305; apothegm of, 428.

Pauson the painter, iii. 73.

Pederasty, or the love of boys, iv. 259; defended, 259, 260; instances of its power, 284-286; severely condemned, 304; the connection is uncertain and short-lived, 307; it ceases on the sprouting of the beard, 307.

Pelopidas, his saying, i. 225.

Pelops and his two sons, v. 470, 471.

Pemptides, iv. 272, 275, 279.

Pergamus, woman of, i. 374.

Periander, at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 3-41; tyrant of Corinth sends three hundred boys to be castrated, iv. 341; the crime prevented, 342.

Pericles, anecdotes of, i. 15, 18, 66, 211, 332; ii. 309, 315; v. 67, 102; his absolute sway over the Athenians, 106; his soliloquy when about to address the people, 130, 131, 410, 413.

Periclitus, a Lesbian harper, i. 108.

Persaeus, anecdote of, i. 70.

Perseus, king of Macedonia, his sorrow on losing his kingdom, i. 160.

Persian Magi, killers of mice, ii. 96.

Persian women, virtue of the, i. 347.

Persians had a monarchy, v. 397.

Pestilence, relief from, a virgin sacrificed for, v. 472.

Petron, doctrine of, iv. 30.

Phaedimus, v. 171, 194.

Phaeton, i. 141.

Phalaris, brazen cow of, v. 474.

Pharnaces, of the moon, v. 265.

Phasis, a river of Thrace, v. 482.

Phayllus, iv. 282.

Phemius, the poet, i. 105.

Pherecrates, fragment of, i. 124.

Phidias, statue of Venus, ii. 498; iv. 133.

Philammon, verses in honor of Latona, Diana, and Apollo, i. 105.

Philemon and Magas, i. 45.

Philinus, iii. 69, 70.

Philip of Macedonia, examples from, i. 44, 45; sayings of, 194-198, 305; anecdotes of, ii. 141, 146, 147, 494; iii. 22; v. 115.

Philippides the comedian, ii. 430.

Philippus, his demonstration of the figure of the moon, ii. 173.

Philolaus, his philosophical opinions: of the nutriment of the world, iii. 134; of the essence of the sun, 142; of the position of the earth, 155; of the motion of the earth, 156.

Philosophers ought chiefly to converse with great men, ii. 368-377.

Philosophers, their various opinions. Of those sentiments concerning nature with which philosophers were delighted, iii. 104-193.

Philosophical discourses at merry meetings, iii. 198-203.

Philosophy, threefold division of, iii. 104.

Philotas and Antigona, i. 504.

Philotas, son of Parmenio, i. 504.

Philotimus, the physician, i. 452; ii. 153.

Philoxenus, i. 125; sayings of, ii. 42; iii. 3; iv. 289; v. 423.

Phocian women, virtue of the, i. 343, 355.

Phocion, his saying on the death of Alexander, i. 49; his sayings, 70; wife of, 102, 216; ii. 135, 298, 311, 321, 328; v. 83, 109, 118; his magnanimity, 122; his reply to Demades, 125, 142, 149.

Phocus, a story of love respecting him, iv. 319.

Phocylides the poet, quoted, i. 9, 462.

Phoebidas, apothegm of, i. 431.

Phoenix, tutor to Achilles, i. 9; ii. 150.

Phrygian mood of music, i. 109.

Phryne, the statue of, iii. 83.

Phrynis, the musician, ii. 470.

Pieria and other women of Myus, i. 363, 364.

Pierus, the first that wrote in praise of the Muses, i. 105.

Pindar and Euthynous, i. 314.

Pindar, his sayings, i. 77, 114; quoted, 143, 173, 174, 286, 293, 303, 304, 310, 313, 328; his description of the state of the blessed, 336; quoted, ii. 57, 143, 177, 193, 306; quoted, iii. 9, 23, 74, 93, 95, 96, 194, 207, 218, 377, 455, 458, 491, 516; quoted, iv. 10, 15, 96, 138, 145, 150, 163, 260, 289, 405; quoted, v. 64, 111, 117, 148, 194, 197, 202, 214, 316, 331, 404; anecdote of, 404, 440.

Pine, sacred to Neptune and Bacchus, iii. 318.

Pine trees, of, iii. 250.

Pinoteras, the fish, v. 205.

Pisias, of love, iv. 270 et seq.

Pisistratus, i. 216; anecdote of, iii. 41, 200.

Pittacus, sayings of, i. 31, 151; his reply to Myrsilus, ii. 5; at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, 3-41; iii. 50; iv. 231; v. 145.

Pitwater, of, iii. 514.

Place at table called Consular, iii. 210-212.

Place, of, iii. 127.

Plague in Falerie and in Lacedaemon, v. 472.

Plain of truth, iv. 29.

Planetiades, iv. 9, 11.

Plants, grow how, iii. 190; nourishment and growth of, 191.

Plato, quoted, i. 9, 19, 24, 26; saying of, 27; quoted, 41, 57, 71, 74, 79; on harmony, 115, 118; quoted, 141, 173, 256, 264, 279, 287; laws, 292; quoted, 297, 311, 314, 321, 337, 339, 456; quoted, ii. 49, 92, 100, 104, 106; at the court of Dionysius, 108, 109, 141, 146; and Socrates, 148, 150, 168, 174, 326; concerning the soul, 328 et seq., 334; quoted, 344, 352, 353, 355, 356, 359, 364, 455, 456, 457, 492, 496, 504; quoted, iii. 19, 81; his philosophical opinions: of the universe, 112, 114, 115; of the understanding, 116; what is God, 119; of God, 121; of matter and ideas, 123; of causes and of bodies, 124; of colors, 125; of bodies, 126; of place and time, 127, 128; of motion, 128; of necessity, 129; of fate, 130; of fortune, 131; of the world, 134, 135, 137; of the stars, 137-141; of the sun, 142, 143; of the moon, 145, 146; of the rainbow, 152; of earthquakes, 158; of the sea, 159; of the soul, 161-165; of sight, 168; of hearing, 170; of the voice, 171; of the echo, 172; of divination, 176; of generative seed, 177; of the embryo, 183; of reason in animals, 187; of sleep, 189; that plants are animals, 190; quoted, 200, 201, 213, 221, 223, 243, 365, 368-370, 401, 462, 464, 499; iv. 18, 28, 30, 41, 45; his opinion about daemons, 86, 87, 109, 115-117, 119, 146, 254, 261, 292, 305; quoted, v. 10, 82, 103, 116, 120, 172, 257, 276, 288, 293, 295, 297, 302, 305, 306, 338, 355, 364, 377, 381, 412, 425-433, 435, 440, 441, 444.

Pleasure not attainable according to Epicurus, ii. 157-203.

Pleasures from bad music, iii. 376.

Plistoanax, apothegm of, i. 430.

Plurality of worlds, iv. 29-39.

Plutarch, his rules for the preservation of health, i. 251-279; his Symposiacs, iii. 197-460; his natural questions, 495-518; on the immortality of the soul, iii. 164, iv. 169; v. 393; consolatory letter to his wife, 386-394; his Platonic questions, 425-449; his spurious remains, 450-509.

Poet, love makes a man a, iii. 217-219.

Poetry, essay on. How a young man ought to hear poems, ii. 42-94.

Polemon, his kind reply, i. 55.

Policy or government defined, v. 396.

Political precepts, v. 97-156.

Poltys, saying of, i. 189.

Polus the tragedian, v. 69.

Polybus, of seven-months’ infants, iii. 185.

Polycephalus, the nome, i. 108.

Polycratidas, apothegm of, i. 431.

Polycrita, a woman of Naxos, i. 364, 366.

Polydorus, apothegm of, i. 430.

Polyhistor, his Third Book of Italian History, v. 476.

Polymnestus, his improvements in music, i. 107, 110, 112, 123.

Polypus, why it changes color, iii. 506; many-colored, v. 202.

Polysperchon’s treachery, i. 64, 71.

Pompey, his great actions and sayings, i. 241 et seq., 290; statues of, 293, v. 70, 102, 112, 114; owed his success to Sylla, 115.

Porsena of Clusium, war with the Romans, v. 451, 456.

Porus, an Indian king, i. 202.

Posidonius, his opinion of fate, iii. 130; of a vacuum, 137; of eclipses, v. 262.

Possible and contingent defined, v. 299.

Postumia, chastity of, i. 290.

Power, necessity, &c., defined, v. 300.

Praise, inordinate, a sign of a flatterer, ii, 116, 117, 120; young people are often spoiled by it, 123.

Preservation of health, rules for, i. 251-279.

Priam and Polydore, v. 465.

Price of peace, women given as the, v. 468.

Priest of Hercules, iii. 90.

Principle and element, difference between, iii. 106.

Principle of cold, v. 309-330.

Principles, what they are, iii. 106.

Prize for poets at the games, iii. 316.

Procles, tyrant of Epidaurus, puts Timarchus to death, iii. 89; his own unhappy end, ib.

Procreation of the soul as discussed in the Timaeus of Plato, ii. 326-367.

Progress in virtue, how it may be ascertained, ii. 446-474.

Prometheus, anecdote of, i. 289.

Proserpine, the same as Isis, iv. 88; and Cora, v. 285, 286.

Prosodia, songs called, i. 106.

Protagoras quoted, i. 332.

Protogenes, iv. 257, 258, 260-265.

Providence, of God, iv. 140-188; v. 305; of the inferior gods, 306; of the daemons, 307, 308.

Ptolemaeus Philadelphus, i. 25.

Ptolemaeus Soter, iv. 88.

Ptolemy Lagus, anecdote of, i. 45; his saying, 202; ii. 177.

Publius Decius, his dream, v. 462.

Publius Nigidius, v. 96.

Punishment of the wicked, why so long delayed, iv. 140-188.

Pupius Piso, the rhetorician, iv. 245.

Purple shell fish, v. 205.

Pylades and Orestes, their friendship, i. 465.

Pyraechmes’s horses, v. 455.

Pyrander, his Fourth Book of Peloponnesian Histories, v. 474.

Pyrandrus, the commissary, v. 469.

Pyrrhon, the Stoic philosopher, anecdote of, ii. 467.

Pyrrhus the Epirot, his saying, i. 207.

Pythagoras, his aphorisms, i. 28, 29; of music, 130; quoted, 175; aphorism, 179, 294; symbols of, 454, 471; his unseasonable reproof, ii. 148; his joy on discovering the relation to each other of the three sides of a right-angled triangle, 174; his philosophical opinions: of the principles of things, iii. 109; of the unity of God, 121; of geniuses and heroes, 122; of matter, 123; of causes, 124; of bodies, 126; of time, 127; of motion, 128; of generation and corruption, 129; of the world, 132-137; of the zodiac, 138; of the summer and winter solstice, 143; of the moon, 145; of the zones, 156; of the soul, 161-164; of the voice, 172; of divination, 176; of generative seed, 177; of reason in animals, 187; precepts of, derived his philosophy from Egyptian priests, iv. 72.

Pythagorean philosophy of dreams, daemons, ii. 412, 413.

Pythagoreans, precept of, iii. 22; why they do not eat fish, 422-426.

Pytheas, his saying, i. 213; iii. 159; apothegm of, v. 107, 110.

Pythes, the Lydian, i. 382.

Pythian games, iii. 316.

Pythian priestess, iv. 8, 9, 62, 63; why she now ceases to deliver her oracles in verse, iii. 69-103.

Pythocles, his Third Book of Italian History, v. 460; Third Book of the Georgics, 476.

Pythoclides the flute player, i. 114.

Python of Aenos, ii. 314.

Q.

Quarry of Carystus, iv. 54.

Questions or Causes, Second Book of, v. 475.

R.

Raillery, of, iii. 229-240.

Rainbow, of the, iii. 151.

Rain, snow, and hail, of, iii. 151.

Rational faculty, of the, v. 441.

Reason, beasts make use of, v. 218-233.

Reason, habit of our, iii. 166.

Remarkable speeches of some obscure men amongst the Spartans, i. 432-440.

Remora or Echeneis, iii. 252.

Reproof, how to be administered, ii. 138-156.

Respiration or breathing, iii, 173.

Rhesus and Similius, v. 466.

Rhodope and Haemus, mountains, v. 491.

Riddles and their solutions, ii. 19, 20.

Roman questions, ii. 204-264.

Roman senator and his wife, iv. 233-235.

Romans, fortune of the, iv. 198-219.

Rome, saved by the cackling of geese, iv. 217; favored by fortune, 219.

Romulus, his birth and education, iv. 206-208; murdered in the senate, v. 470; and Remus, suckled by a she-wolf, 473.

Rules for the preservation of health, i. 251-279.

Rutilius the usurer, v. 419.

S.

Sabinus of Galatia, iv. 308.

Sacadas, a flute player, i. 109, 110, 112.

Sacred games, garlands of, iii. 411.

Sacrificed beasts, iii. 361.

Sagaris, a river in Phrygia, v. 492.

Salmantica, women of, i. 352.

Salt and cummin, why does Homer call it divine, iii. 336.

Salt given to cattle, iii. 497; not found in fruit, 498.

Sappho, i. 42, 114; ii. 506; quoted, iii. 95, 263; quoted, iv. 260.

Sappho’s measures, grace in, iii. 74.

Sardanapalus, his luxury and lust, i. 497.

Sardians and Smyrnaeans, v. 468.

Saturn and his four children, v. 456, 457.

Satyrus the orator, i. 47.

Scamander, a river in Troas, v. 493.

Scaurus, his magnanimity, i. 295.

Scilurus, anecdote of, iv. 244.

Scipio the Elder, apothegm of, i. 229; ii. 475; iv. 201; v. 96, 112, 114, 136.

Scipio the Younger, his sayings and great actions, i. 235-239.

Scopas, saying of, ii. 303.

Scythinus, verses of, iii. 86.

Sea calves, of, v. 210.

Sea, of the, iii. 158; ebbing and flowing of the, 159; food of the, 302-306; made hot by wind, 501.

Sea-sickness, iii. 502.

Sea water nourishes not trees, iii. 495; upon wine, 502; oil on the, 503.

Seed, nature of generative, iii. 177; that fall on the oxen’s horns, 368; watering of, 496; watered by thunder showers, 498.

Seleucus the mathematician, iii. 159.

Seleucus Callinicus, anecdote of, iv. 237.

Self-praise. How a man may inoffensively praise himself without being liable to envy, ii. 306-325.

Semiramis, her saying, i. 187, 497; iv. 85.

Seneca, anecdote of, i. 53.

Senses, of the, iii. 164; represent what is true, 165; number of the, 165; actions of the, 166.

Sentiments concerning Nature with which Philosophers were delighted, iii. 104-193.

Serapio, iii. 74, 79, 81, 82.

Serapis is Pluto, iv. 88, 89.

Serpent and the Aetolian woman, v. 188.

Seven months’ infants, of, iii. 184.

Seven Wise Men, Banquet of the, ii. 3-41.

Servius Tullius, his birth, elevation, and prosperous reign, iv. 212, 213.

Shadows, guests called, iii. 381.

Sheep bitten by wolves, iii. 254.

She-wolves, of, iii. 517.

Ships in winter, sailing of, iii. 500.

Shoe pinches, where the, ii. 494.

Sibyl with her frantic grimaces, iii. 74.

Sight, of our, iii. 168.

Silence commended, iv. 230, 243.

Simonides, quoted, i. 149, 257, 295, 305, 309, 318; quoted, ii. 44, 101, 136, 436, 457, 471; quoted, iii. 22, 87, 259, 409, 451, 459, 473; quoted, iv. 158; saying of, v. 66, 68, 71, 121.

Sipylus, mount, v. 489.

Siramnes, saying of, i. 185.

Sleep or death, causes of, iii. 188; whether it appertains to the soul or body, 189.

Smelling, of, iii. 170.

Smyrna and Cinyras, v. 464.

Snow, preservation of, iii. 350.

Soclarus, iv. 292; v. 156, 158, 160, 166, 169, 170, 171, 216.

Socrates, anecdotes of, i. 11, 13, 23, 26, 38, 53, 141, 150, 162; rules of health, 255; quoted, 307, 310, 312, 337; ii. 46, 148, 150, 338, 441; his Daemon, 378-423, 441, 495; iii. 4, 19, 35, 112, 121, 123; iv. 249; v. 93, 359, 361, 362-364, 377, 381.

Socrates, his Second Book of Thracian History, v. 462.

Soil, deep, for wheat, iii. 504; lean soil for barley, 504.

Solon and Croesus, anecdote of, ii. 122.

Solon, quoted, i. 155, 297; at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 3-41; quoted, 297, 454, 487; quoted, iii. 50; iv. 72; quoted, 260; anecdote of, 304; v. 89, 113, 117, 118, 131.

Sophocles, quoted, i. 46, 57, 244, 288; Thamyras, 39; Frag., 58, 63; Tyre, 206, 467; Antig., 51, 462; Oed. Tyr., 179, 470; quoted, ii. 45, 57, 61, 72; criticisms on, 72; Frag., 173, 241, 244, 298, 431, 452, 456, 470, 495; Oed. Tyr., 60, 172, 442, 476, 495; Antig., 110; Trachin., 311; Electra, 440; quoted, iii. 97, 210, 222; Frag., 7; Antig. 45; Oed. Tyr., 235, 474; Oed. Col., 232; Electra, 437; quoted, iv. 87, 246, 287, 304; Oed. Tyr., 197, 202; Trachin., 281; Antig., 239, 283, 404; Frag., 221, 226, 274, 284, 301; quoted, v. 69, 76, 158, 216; Oed. Col., 68; Frag., 75, 84; anecdote of, 68.

Sostratus, his Second Book of Tuscan History, v. 468.

Sotades, jest of, i. 25.

Soterichus, the musician, i. 103, 112.

Soul of Ajax, her place in hell, iii. 442.

Soul or body, death appertains to, iii. 189.

Soul, procreation of the, ii. 326-367; its nature and essence, iii. 161, 163; parts of the, 162; in what part of the body it resides, 163; motion of the, 163; immortality of the, 164; principal part of the, 173; three sorts of motion in the, v. 371; state of, after death, 393, 394; ancienter than the body, 432.

Souls dispersed into the earth, moon, &c., v. 438.

Sounds in the night and day, iii. 406.

Sows, tame and wild, iii. 508.

Space, of, iii. 127.

Sparta had an oligarchy, v. 397.

Speech composed of nouns and verbs, v. 444.

Speech of a statesman, what it should be, v. 107.

Sperm, whether it be a body, iii. 177.

Spermatic emission of women, iii. 177.

Sphodrias, v. 118.

Spiders, labor of the, v. 174.

Sponge, of the, v. 205.

Spurious remains of Plutarch, v. 450-509.

Star-fish, subtlety of the, v. 201.

Stark drunk, those that are, iii. 281.

Stars, essence of the, iii. 138; what figure they are, 139; order and place of, 139; motion and circulation of, 140; whence do they receive their light, 140; which are called the Dioscuri, the twins, or Castor and Pollux, 141; how they prognosticate, 141; number of the, whether odd or even, 446.

Stasicrates proposes to turn Mount Athos into a statue of Alexander, i. 495.

Stesichorus, i. 109, 112; iv. 497.

Steward of a feast, iii. 212-216.

Stilpo, the philosopher, i. 13, 76, 144, 161; anecdote of, ii. 468; defended, v. 365-367.

Stoics speak greater improbabilities than the poets, iii. 194-196; their opinions concerning daemons, iv. 24; common conceptions against the, 372-427; contradictions of the, 428-477.

Strabo, quoted, i. 27.

Strato, i. 155; iii. 163; v. 161.

Stratonica of Galatia, i. 373.

Stratonicus, anecdote of, ii. 298; iii. 21.

Strymon, a river in Thrace, v. 491.

Summer and winter, cause of, iii. 141.

Summer and winter solstice, iii. 143.

Sun, essence of the, iii. 141; magnitude of the, 142; figure or shape of the, 143; turning and returning of the, 143; eclipses of the, 144.

Superstition of the Gauls, Scythians, and Carthaginians, i. 182, 183.

Superstition, or indiscreet devotion, i. 168-184; folly of, ii. 387.

Supper, many guests at, iii. 323.

Supper-room, why too narrow at first for guests, iii. 326.

Suppers of the ancients, iii. 255-259.

Swallows in the house, iii. 419; intelligence of the, v. 174.

Sylla, i. 32-35; anecdote of, v. 72, 115, 135.

Symposiacs, or table discourses, iii. 197-460.

Synorix and Camma, iv. 302.

T.

Table, dignity of places at, iii. 210-212.

Tables and lamps of the ancients, iii. 372.

Talkativeness, or garrulity, iv. 220-253.

Talk, deliberate or tumultuous, iii. 395.

Tanais, a river in Scythia, v. 494.

Tarpeia, a virgin, the story of, v. 460.

Taste, of, iii. 170.

Taxiles of India, i. 201.

Taygetus, mount, v. 498.

Tears of the hart, iii. 507.

Tears of wild boars, iii. 507.

Telamon and Periboea, v. 467.

Telamon and Phocus, v. 466.

Telecrus, apothegm of, i. 431.

Telegonus, son of Ulysses, v. 476.

Telephanes of Megara, i. 117.

Telephus, i. 289.

Telesias the Theban, an eminent flute-player, i. 125.

Telesphorus, in an iron cage, iii. 31.

Temple of Apollo, iv. 478-498.

Teres, his saying, i. 189.

Teribazus, anecdote of, i. 176.

Terpander, the musician, fined by the Ephori, and why? i. 91, 92; an inventor of ancient music, 102, 105, 109; an excellent composer to the harp, 106, 112; added the octave to the heptachord, 102, 122.

Teuthras, mount, v. 504.

Thales, at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 3-41; first of philosophers; the Ionic sect took its denomination from him, iii. 107; his philosophical opinions; difference between a principle and an element, 106; that the intelligence of the world was God, 121; of geniuses and heroes, 122; of division of bodies, 126; of necessity, 129; of the division of heaven, 137; of the eclipses of the sun, 144; that the moon borrows her light from the sun, 146; that the earth is globular, and the centre of the universe, 155; of earthquakes, 157; of the overflow of the Nile, 160; of the soul, 161; iv. 337, 480.

Thaletas, a composer, i. 110, 112; power of his music, 133.

Thamyras, the singer, i. 105.

Theanor, ii. 395, 396.

Thebes, liberation of, ii. 414-423.

Thectamenes, apothegm of, i. 411.

Themisteas, apothegm of, i. 410.

Themistocles, quoted, i. 73; his saying, 208; suspected of treason, 290, 296, 480; quoted, ii. 97, 311, 471; his kind reception by the Persian king, iii. 21, 30; iv. 208, 361, 365; v. 101, 116, 120, 121, 127.

Theo, iii. 70, 71, 74, 88.

Theocritus, his remark and death, i. 25, 73; ii. 380; iii. 516.

Theodorus, saying of, i. 142; ii. 321, 349; iii. 31; his Book of Transformations, v. 464.

Theognis, i. 473; ii. 59; iii. 506.

Theon, ii. 157 et seq.; v. 273-275.

Theophilus, his Third Book of Italian History, v. 459; Second Book of Peloponnesian Histories, 470.

Theophrastus, sayings of, i. 276, 304, 442; ii. 303; iii. 45, 64, 218, 219, 334; v. 202, 427.

Theopompus, his sayings, i. 217, 410; v. 137.

Theotimus, his Italian History, v. 456.

Theramenes, anecdote of, i. 306.

Thermodon, a river in Scythia, v. 495.

Thero, anecdote of, iv. 286.

Theseus and his son Hippolytus, v. 471.

Thespesius, iv. 177, 182 et seq., 188.

Thirst, cause of, iii. 341.

Thorycion, apothegm of, i. 411.

Thrasonides quoted, ii. 297.

Thucydides, quoted, i. 70, 76, 472, 490; quoted, ii. 98, 117, 149, 152, 458; quoted, iii. 88; quoted, iv. 141; quoted, v. 65, 106, 403.

Thunder, of, iii. 150.

Thymbris, and his son Rustius, v. 466.

Tides, of, iii. 159.

Tigris, the river, v. 507.

Timaeus, his opinion of tides, iii. 159.

Timesias, the oracle and, i. 471; anecdote of, v. 127.

Time, essence and nature of, iii. 127, 128.

Timoclea, at the taking of Thebes, i. 376.

Timoleon, ii. 314.

Timotheus, the musician, anecdote of, i. 92, 106, 112; ii. 83, 306; v. 76.

Titus Quinctius, apothegm of, i. 230.

Tmolus, mount, v. 486.

Torpedo, or crampfish, v. 201.

Torquatus and Clusia, v. 459.

Tortoise, their care for their young, v. 209.

Training of children, i. 3-32.

Tranquillity of the mind, the, i. 136-167.

Transmutation of bodies, v. 14.

Trees and seeds, watering of, iii. 496.

Trees not nourished by sea-water, iii. 495.

Triangles, of, v. 433.

Trisimachus, his book of Foundations of Cities, v. 455.

Trochilus and crocodile, v. 206.

Troilus wept less than Priam, i. 323.

Trojan women, virtue of the, i. 342.

Trophonius and Agamedes, i. 313.

True friendship, of, i. 464-474; ii. 100-134.

True happiness, of, v. 392.

Tullus Hostilius, v. 455.

Tunnies, dim sight of the, v. 204.

Typhon, in Egyptian mythology, iv. 80, 81, 86, 88, 91, 92, 99, 101, 105, 110, 114, 118, 122.

Tyrrhene women, virtue of the, i. 349.

U.

Ulysses, i. 160; in the island of Circe, v. 218 et seq.

Unity of God. Of the word εἰ engraven over the gate of the temple of Apollo at Delphi, iv. 478-498.

Universe, whether it is one, iii. 114; division of the, v. 429.

Unlearned Prince, Discourse to an, iv. 323-330.

Usurers, what sort of men they are, 417.

Usury, evils of, v. 412-424.

V.

Vacuum, of a, iii. 126; there can be none in nature, iv. 33; suppose there were, it would have no beginning, middle, or end, 34.

Valeria and Cloelia, i. 356.

Valeria Tusculanaria, v. 464.

Valerius Conatus swallowed up alive, v. 455.

Venus’s hands wounded by Diomedes, iii. 441.

Verses seasonably and unseasonably applied, iii. 436.

Vice and virtue, ii. 482-485.

Vice, whether it is sufficient to render a man unhappy, iv. 499-503.

Vines irrigated with wine, iii. 513; rank of leaves, iii. 513.

Virtue and vice, ii. 482-485.

Virtue may be taught, i. 78-81.

Virtue or fortune, to which of these was due the greatness and glory of Rome? iv. 198-219.

Virtue, progress in, ii. 446-474.

Virtues of women, i. 340-384.

Vision, doctrine of, iii. 168; v. 236 et seq.

Voice is incorporeal, iii. 172.

Voice, of the, iii. 171.

Vowels and semi-vowels, iii. 438.

W.

Water made colder by stones and lead, iii. 348.

Water or fire, which is more useful? v. 331-337.

Water, white and black, iii. 518.

Wealth, the love of, ii. 294-305.

Well water, change of the temperature in, iii. 347.

West wind the swiftest, iii, 515.

Whale, of the, v. 207.

Wheat, sow, in clay, iii. 505.

Whether an aged man ought to meddle in state affairs, v. 64-96.

Whether the passions of the soul, or diseases of the body, are worse, iv. 504-508.

Whether ’twere rightly said, “Live concealed,” iii. 3-10.

Whether vice is sufficient to render a man unhappy, iv. 499-503.

Whirlwinds, of, iii. 150.

Why the oracles cease to give answers, iv. 3-64.

Wicked, delay of Providence in punishing the, iv. 140-188.

Widows in India, iv. 502.

Wild beasts, steps of, iii. 509; their tracks, 509.

Wild boars, tears of the, iii. 507.

Winds, of, iii. 154.

Wine, whether it is potentially cold, iii. 272-274; straining of, 351; middle of, 370; sea water upon, 502; irrigation with, 513.

Winter and summer, cause of, iii. 141, 154.

Winter, ships in, iii. 500; sea least hot in, 501.

Wise Men, the Seven, Banquet of, ii. 3-41; their names, iv. 480.

Woman, of Pergamus, i. 374.

Woman of Thessaly torn in pieces by dogs, v. 463.

Women, the virtues of, i. 340-384; barrenness in, iii. 181; are hardly foxed, 268-270; temper of, 270-272; given as the price of peace, v. 468.

Word ει at Apollo’s temple at Delphi, iv. 478-498.

World, how it was brought into its present order, iii. 113.

World, of the, iii. 132; figure of the, 133; whether it be an animal, 133; whether it is eternal and incorruptible, 133; its nutriment, 134; from what element was it raised, 134; in what form and order was it composed, 135; cause of its inclination, 136; thing which is beyond the, 136; what parts on the right and left hand, 137.

Worlds, plurality of, iv. 29-38.

Wrestling, of, iii. 246.

X.

Xanthippe, wife of Socrates, anecdotes of, i. 53, 292.

Xenaenetus, v. 109.

Xenocrates, anecdote of; i. 71, 442; his opinions concerning the soul, ii. 327, 439; of triangles, iii. 24, 139, 494; his opinion about daemons, iv. 17, 87; saying of, v. 10, 494.

Xenocritus, a composer, i. 110, 380.

Xenodamus, a composer, i. 110.

Xenophanes, his reply, i. 65, 183; his philosophical opinions, iii. 134, 138, 141, 144, 145, 150, 155; quoted, ii. 49; iv. 291.

Xenophon, quoted, i. 137; maxim of, 281, 333, 447; ii. 115, 144, 178, 307; the scene of his old age, iii. 24; v. 67, 72, 121, 139.

Xerxes, his saying, i. 39, 187; and Arimanes, iii. 59, 60; invasion of Greece, v. 451, 452.

Y.

Year, length of, in different planets, iii. 147.

Z.

Zaleucus, laws of, ii. 315.

Zaratas, ii. 327.

Zeno, saying of, i. 56; anecdotes of, 72, 142, 283; ii. 321, 365, 455; quoted, 467, 481; iii. 25, 113, 125, 128; his definition of virtue, 462; anecdote of, iv. 225; v. 382.

Zenocrates, v. 288, 377, 441.

Zeuxidamus, apothegm of, i. 410.

Zeuxippus, dialogue on health, i. 251-279; ii. 157 et seq.; iv. 270, 278, 288.

Zeuxis, reply of, i. 468.

Zopyrus Byzantius, his Third Book of Histories, v. 473.

Zoroaster, ii. 357; iv. 106.

# Project Gutenberg #78000

Transcriber’s notes:

Italic text is denoted thus.

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

[Illustration: Circe.

From the painting by E. Burne-Jones.]

PLUTARCH’S ESSAYS AND MISCELLANIES

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

[Illustration: HONOS ET VIRTUS]

BOSTON · LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY · MCMXI

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

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

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

CONTENTS OF VOLUME FIFTH.

WITH THE TRANSLATORS’ NAMES.

OF EATING OF FLESH.

BY WILLIAM BAXTER, GENT.

The very idea of eating the carcasses of slain animals is repulsive, 8. Who could have begun the practice, but from the direst necessity? 4. Men must have been driven to the deed of slaying animals for food, because the supply of food from the vegetable world had utterly failed, 4, 5. We have no such necessity, 5. Man is not by nature a carnivorous animal, 7. Our conduct in slaying animals and then preparing them for food is wholly against nature, 8. Animal food is injurious: it clogs and confuses the mind and renders it stupid, 9. It operates unfavorably on character, 9, 10. If we must eat flesh, let it be with sorrow and pity; not tormenting and abusing the poor animal before taking its life, 11. Passing the bounds of nature in our feeding, intemperate appetites and shameful lusts are gratified, 12. Cruelty to mankind is induced, 12. Animals have senses; they have faculties for seeing, hearing, understanding: is it right to extinguish these faculties? 13. Who knows but the bodies of animals may contain the souls of deceased men; of a father, brother, son, or other friend? 14, 15.

LIVES OF THE TEN ORATORS.

BY CHARLES BARCROFT, LECTURER OF ST. MILDRED’S, BREAD STREET.

1. Antiphon, 17-21. 2. Andocides, 21-23. 3. Lysias, 24-26. 4. Isocrates, 27-33. 5. Isaeus, 33. 6. Aeschines, 34-36. 7. Lycurgus, 36-42. 8. Demosthenes, 43-53. 9. Hyperides, 53-57. 10. Dinarchus, 57, 58. Decrees proposed to the Athenians for statues to be set up to Demosthenes, 58-63.

WHETHER AN AGED MAN OUGHT TO MEDDLE IN STATE AFFAIRS.

BY F. FETHERSTON, D.D.

It is maintained by some, that after a certain time men should not employ themselves in public affairs, 64. The love of honor and zeal for the public good never grows old, 65. It is not well for a man who has never been accustomed to public business to commence such employment late in life, 66. An aged man may usefully conduct public affairs, as we see in the instances of Augustus Caesar, Pericles, and Agesilaus, 67, 68. Simonides and Sophocles, in old age, were good poets, 68. It is unworthy of a man who has served the public many years, to descend, in the decline of life, to mean employments, 69, 70. Political life has pleasures very great and honorable, 71. A man should not suffer his glory to wither in old age, 72. Reputation once acquired is easily maintained, and the people readily trust their old and faithful servants, 73. Envy and jealousy do not assail old age, 73, 74. It is not easy to terminate a long and faithful public service, 74. An old man staying at home, and spending his time in small matters is not honored, 75. Old men, full of experience and of wisdom, are often compelled by their fellow-citizens to conduct difficult negotiations, 76. Old age of itself is not a good reason for quitting the public service, 77, 78. Young men for war, but old men for counsel, 78. The Roman council of state is called the Senate, 79. The regal dignity has cares and toils, but who would advise the king to abdicate? 80. Old men in office may instruct and guide younger statesmen, 81, 82. Old men are often hale and vigorous, and so not disabled for the service of the state, 83. Examples of Phocion, Masinissa, and Cato, 83. Idleness enervates even great men, as Lucullus, while constant employment invigorates, 84. Our country has claims on our services, 85. Yet old age should have becoming employment, 86. An aged man should abstain from small and frivolous matters, 87. Offices of honor and dignity befit old men, 88. They should not eagerly seek office, 88. Old men should not be forward to speak in public, they should speak on grave occasions, 89. On other occasions, let them yield to younger men, 89, 90. Let them comfort and encourage deserving young men in their failures, 91. To be a statesman is not only to hold office and conduct negotiations, but also to guide, instruct, and assist those who conduct public affairs, when occasion requires, 93, 94. Even men in private stations may do this, and thus serve their country till death, 95, 96.

POLITICAL PRECEPTS.

BY SAMUEL WHITE, M.D.

Counsels to a politician, 97. In the administration of public affairs, be guided by reason and judgment, 98. Act not from vain-glory, emulation, or want of other employment, 98, 99. Accommodate yourself to the temper and disposition of the citizens, 99, 100. Having obtained power among the people, endeavor to reform their disposition, 101. Do not give them an opportunity of finding fault with your own life or manners, 102. Beware of little faults, 102, 103. Cultivate the graces of speech, 104, 105. Orators sway the multitude, as in the case of Pericles, 106, 107. What the speech of a statesman should be, 107. How to use satire and invective, 108, 109. Think before you speak, and speak right on, 110. Speak in full, round tones, 110, 111. Two ways of entering on public life, 111. First, with a bold, vigorous hand, like Aratus, Alcibiades, Scipio, Pompey, &c., 112. Secondly, by procuring the assistance of some man of influence and authority, 114. Be careful in the choice of your man, lest your success inspire him with jealousy, 115. Pompey owed his success to Sylla, 115. Avoid flatterers and favorites, 116. Do not gratify friends in derogation of law and right, 117. Grant favors to friends when consistent with duty and public advantage, 120. Be generous and just towards your enemies, 121, 123. Let patriotism overshadow all private griefs, 122. How to meet invective, 124. Allow others to assist in public affairs, 128. Undertake nothing for which you lack qualification, 128, 129. Keep the helm in your own hand, but carry yourself with moderation; do not forget the limits of your power, 130, 131. As Greece is under the Roman sway, it is well to remember that fact, and to cultivate the favor of some powerful man at Rome, 132. Yet you should avoid, as much as possible, foreign interference, 133. Let the affairs of every city be settled by its own citizens, 133. When commotions arise, try to compose them, 134. One man’s virtue has often saved a state, 135. Treat colleagues in office with honor and respect, 136. Plutarch relates an incident in his own life, 137. Honor the magistrates, even if you are personally their superior, 138. If a magistrate should be remiss in duty, do what you can to supply the defect, 139. Yield to the multitude in small things, that you may hinder their misdoings in greater, 140. When the people desire something which would be injurious to the state, use evasion and delay, 141. When about to undertake some difficult affair, secure the assistance of well-qualified persons, rather than of persons like yourself, 142. Divest yourself of the desire for riches, and of a mean, ignoble ambition, 143, 144. Decline not the honors which the people are disposed to bestow, 145, 146. The good-will of the people towards a public servant helps him greatly in the discharge of his duty, 147. If you are rich, and can give largesses to the people, bestow them, but with due care, 148. If you are poor, hesitate not to confess it, and incur no expense you cannot afford, 149, 150. In case of a sedition, try to compose it, 152. Especially try to prevent seditions and commotions, 153. In the present state of Greece, subject to the will of a Roman proconsul, no good can arise from public commotions, 154.

WHICH ARE THE MOST CRAFTY, WATER-ANIMALS OR THOSE CREATURES THAT BREED UPON THE LAND?

BY JOHN PHILIPS, GENT.

Field sports, the slaughter of wild and at length of tame animals, prepared the way for men to kill one another, 158. Have brutes a soul? they certainly have sense and imagination, 160. They learn to desire some things and to avoid others, 161. They have expectation, memory, design, hope, fear, desire, and grief, 161. If they have sense, they have understanding, 161. They have what in men is called understanding, 162. Men punish dogs and horses for their faults, as if for the purpose of producing repentance, 162. Beasts are susceptible of pleasure, joy, anger, fear, 163. But are they capable of virtue? 163. They love their offspring, 164. They may have reason, and yet not have it perfectly, or in a high degree, 164. As sight and swiftness exist in different degrees, so may reason and mental force, 165. Animals differ widely in their faculties, as in their habits, 165. Many brute animals excel men in the faculties of sight and hearing, as well as in swiftness and strength; but we may not therefore say that men are blind, &c., 166. There are mad dogs and horses; what is this but a disturbance of the reason? 167. Mankind are chargeable with great injustice in dealing with beasts as they do, 169. There is a necessary and convenient use of the brute creation, 169, 170. Beyond this, we ought not to go, 170. In the exercise of what so nearly resembles reason, do land animals excel those that live in the water? 172. There is sufficient reason to believe that they do, 173. Observe the habits of bulls, lions, and elephants, 173. Of the ichneumon, of swallows, and spiders, 174. Of bees, crows, geese, and cranes, 175. The contrivances and labors of emmets, 176, 177. The sagacity of the elephant and the fox, 178, 179. The affection of the dog for his master; some striking instances related, 180, 181. Story of a mule at Athens, 182. Another dog story, 182, 183. The elephant that carried King Porus, 183. The horse Bucephalus, 183. Where there is one virtue in a brute, there are commonly others, 183, 184. Instances of subtlety and cunning, 184-186. Elephants and lions have a taste for society, 187. Amorous propensities of some brutes towards mankind; singular instances given, 188. Starlings, magpies, and parrots learn to talk, 188, 189. Swans and nightingales sing, 189. Story of a magpie at Rome imitating the music of trumpets exactly, 190. Wonderful docility of a dog, 191. Men have learned of the spider to weave; of the swallow to build; and have acquired from other animals skill in medicine, 191, 192. Some oxen have learned to count, 193. Soothsaying and divination is by means of birds, 194. What now can be said of the sagacity and intelligence of fishes and other water-animals? living in the sea, and remote from our observation, they are but little known to us, 195. Crocodiles come when called, 196. Fish are not easily caught, a proof of great cunning and wariness, 197, 198. Fish stand by and defend each other in danger, 199. Sagacity of the dolphin and the cuttle-fish, 200. Subtlety of the fish in taking their own prey, the torpedo, polypus, and others, 201, 202. Sagacity of the tunny, 203, 204. Mutual affection of the crocodile and the trochilus, 206. Sagacity of fish in depositing their spawn, 207, 208. Care of the tortoise and crocodile for their young, 209, 210. Intelligence and conjugal affection of the halcyon, 211, 212. Story of a dolphin which served as a guide to messengers of Ptolemy Soter, king of Egypt, 213, 214. The dolphin, a solitary instance among the brutes of disinterested love for man, 214. Stories of affectionate dolphins, 215, 216.

THAT BRUTE BEASTS MAKE USE OF REASON.

BY SIR A. J.

A satire on the boasted wisdom, fortitude, magnanimity, and temperance of man, in the form of a dialogue between Ulysses in the island of Circe, and Gryllus, whom she had changed into a swine, and who now prefers his swinish condition to a return to the human form; Ulysses asks Circe for permission to restore his companions to the human shape, 218. Circe will grant the request if the men themselves desire it, 219. Gryllus, one of them, is brought forward to answer in behalf of the entire company, 219. He refuses, and gives his reasons, 220, et seq. He says that by making him and his companions beasts, Circe has done them a great favor, 220. Beasts have more fortitude than men; they fight in fair, open combat, without trick or artifice; they are no cowards, they never cry for mercy, 222. Beasts are courageous and daring, even the females; while the courage of men is artificial, and women are timid, 223, 224. Beasts are more temperate and chaste than men; they indulge their appetites only in a natural way, and at the proper season, 225, 226, 228. Beasts do not value silver or gold, 227. They have no adventitious desires, 227. Their senses are more accurate, 227. Men are incontinent: they indulge unnatural and excessive appetites; are never satisfied, 229, 230. Beasts are satisfied with one kind of food, and this procured without difficulty; they have nature for their teacher, and could teach men many useful lessons, 231, 232.

OF THE FACE APPEARING WITHIN THE ORB OF THE MOON.

BY A. G., GENT.

In abstruse speculations, if we fail of satisfaction in one direction, we must inquire in another, 234. A face or form is seen in the moon; how is this to be explained? 234. The appearance of a form in the moon is not the result of any acuteness or dulness of our vision, 234, 235. The appearance in question some think may be a reflection of the ocean from the moon’s disc, 236. This opinion refuted, 236, 237. Some think the moon to be a compound of air and fire, a disturbance of which causes the appearance in question, 238. This notion disproved, 238, 239, 242. That the earth is a larger body than the moon, is shown by eclipses of the moon, 241. The moon must be a solid body, though much lighter than the earth, 241, 242. The spherical form of the earth, the antipodes, and all motion tending towards the earth’s centre, are pronounced absurdities, 243, 244. The moon is not far from the earth, and feels its influence, though not of the same substance, 245, 246. Computation of the respective distances of the sun and moon from the earth, 246. The spherical form of the earth again denied, 247. If the earth is in the middle, of what is it the middle? not of the universe, surely, 247. Relations of bodies above and beneath, 248. We are not, in our philosophy, to reduce every thing to the place to which it naturally belongs, 249, 250. All things do not follow their natural course, 250. In the human body the heaviest parts are not placed lowermost, 251. So it may be in the structure of the world, 252. The moon, though placed in high heaven, may be a heavy body, 253. It is not therefore composed of fire and air, 253. But has the moon the nature of earth? 254. Does the moon reflect the light of the sun? 255. Reasons why this is probable, 256. When the moon appears only half-enlightened, ought not the light reflected to come at right angles? and is it so? 256-258. Aspect of the moon when gibbous or crescent, 258. Only solid bodies reflect light; the moon therefore must be a solid body, 259, 260. That the moon is a solid body is farther proved by eclipses of the sun, 260-262. Size of the moon; as large as Peloponnesus, 261. Its proportionate size in relation to the earth, 261. Further arguments from eclipses, 263-265. Objections answered, 266-268. The moon is not a star, or a burning body, 266. Its nature is like that of the earth, 268. This need not impugn her divinity, 268. There may be cavities and other inequalities on the surface of the moon, and these may be immensely large, so as to be seen by us, 269. The shadow of Mount Athos falls on Lemnos, the shadow being immensely larger than the mountain, 270. An objection from this answered, 270-273. Is the moon inhabited? is it fit for the abode of animated beings? 274, 275. Answer, (1.) If it be not, it does not prove that the moon was made in vain, 276. (2.) The moon may be inhabited: we can see no reasons to the contrary, 277-279. Objections considered, 277, 278. That the moon is inhabited is not more incredible than that the ocean should be inhabited, 280. A description of the isle Ogygia, in the Western Ocean, the abode of Saturn; its inhabitants; the phenomena and customs of the place, 281-283. Man is compounded of three parts: the body, the soul, and the understanding, 286. The understanding is from the sun, the soul from the moon, that is from Proserpine, 286. Every soul, dismissed from the body, wanders for a time between the earth and the moon, 286. When they reach the moon, they behold its greatness and beauty, 288. The moon described as it appears to them, 289. The Elysian fields are there, 289. If any of the dwellers there commit a fault, they are thrust down to earth again, 289. After a long time, they come back to the moon, 291. This about the moon may be taken for what one pleases, 292.

OF FATE.

BY THE SAME HAND.

Fate is either (1) an energy, a law, an act, 293; or (2) a substance, the soul of the world, 294. Though comprehending infinite, it is itself finite, for law is in its nature finite, 294, 295. Every thing moves in a circle; all beings and all actions that now exist will come around again: we shall again do what we are now doing, and in the same manner, 295. Fate, the Divine Law, the Law of Nature, determines all things, 296. It determines both conditionally and universally, 297. What relation has Fate to Divine Providence? what to fortune? what to human ability? what to contingent events? 298. As the civil law comprehends and relates to many things which are not lawful, so it is with Fate, 298. The words possible and contingent defined; also power, necessity, &c., 299, 300. Of causes: some are causes per se, others are causes by accident, 301. Fortune is a cause by accident, 302. Fortune is not the same thing as Chance, though Chance comprehends Fortune, 303. Fortune relates to men only; Chance includes things animate and inanimate, 303. Of Divine Providence: (1) the will of the Supreme Deity; (2) the will of the subordinate deities; (3) the will of the Daemons, 304. Of the Providence of the Supreme God, 305. Of the Providence of the inferior gods, 306. Of the Providence of the Daemons, 307, 308.

CONCERNING THE FIRST PRINCIPLE OF COLD.

BY F. FETHERSTON, D.D.

Is cold the mere privation of heat? 309. This is denied, for cold seems to act on fluids and on solids: like heat or other actual substances, it has a productive power, 310. Further, a mere privation is not capable of degrees; but cold exists in different degrees, 310. A privation is nothing; cold is something, 311. A privation is not the object of any of our senses; but cold can be felt, 311. Privation is something single and simple; substances have differences, continually varying; and thus it is with cold, therefore cold must be a substance, 312. Cold acts as a substance; it resists heat, and overcomes it or is vanquished by it, 312. As there are four elements, of which all things are composed, so there should be four qualities, heat and cold, drought and moisture, 313. What sort of substance is cold? 314. The air, when it becomes dark, becomes also cold, 315. The freezing of water is caused by cold air, 316. Great rivers and lakes are not frozen to the bottom, because the air does not reach so far; the power of cold is therefore as many think, from the air, 317; but this is doubtful, 318. Water makes things black; air makes them white, 318. Oil is transparent because so much air is in it, 318. It does not easily freeze, 319. Cold things are always heavy, 319. Fire and water are opposites, 320. In winter, heat is driven inward by cold, 321. It is driven downward from the surfaces of great rivers, 321. Several considerations show that water, and not air, is the cause of cold, 322. Water is cold of itself, being the opposite of fire, 323. Opinion of Chrysippus combated, 324. The earth, because it is dark, might be considered the cause of cold, 324, 325. But many hot things are dark, 326. Cold makes things hard, heavy, rigid, and capable of resistance: the earth is therefore the source of cold, 326, 327. Several considerations which seem to prove that heat exists in every thing except the earth, and that cold proceeds as a substance from the earth; which, and the whole subject, in conclusion, is left in doubt, to be decided as the reader pleases. 327-330.

WHETHER WATER OR FIRE BE MOST USEFUL.

BY THE SAME HAND.

1. Arguments of the superior usefulness of Water: We need it at all times and in all places; it is not so with fire. Water was given to man at his first creation; fire was introduced by Prometheus. Some men and all brute animals can live without fire, but not without water. Fire is often pernicious; water never. Fire cannot be kept up without expense; water requires no expense. Water, or the sea, is the great civilizer of man, 331-334. 2. Arguments in behalf of Fire: Heat is the exciting cause of vegetation; water becomes putrid when fire leaves it; animals perish without heat; death is only the absence of heat; water is made more useful by fire; the arts cannot exist without fire, 334-337.

AGAINST COLOTES, THE DISCIPLE AND FAVORITE OF EPICURUS.

BY A. G., GENT.

Occasion of this tract; a book written by Colotes, 338. Plutarch undertakes to answer it, and why, 339, 340. Colotes wrongly represents Democritus, 341. Our senses give us true information, but it does not follow that the different qualities which are perceived in the same object by different persons prove that nothing is of one nature more than another, 341-343. This argument further applied, 344. Does color exist in the dark? 344, 345. Doctrine of Democritus concerning atoms, 346. Are atoms immutable and impassible? 347, 348. How then can any thing be generated? 348. Is generation the mere union of atoms? 348. According to Colotes life cannot exist, 349. His doctrines virtually abolish nature, 349. Is nature nothing distinct from bodies and their place? 350. Is death nothing but that which dies? 350. Empedocles defended from the misrepresentations of Colotes, 350, 351. Parmenides also defended, 352-354. A thing positively existing distinguished from its sensible qualities, 354. Aristotle and the Peripatetics differed from Plato, 355. Colotes misrepresents Plato, 355, 356. Difference between that which exists by itself, and that which participates of something else; or between essence and form, 356-359. Colotes falls at the feet of Epicurus, 360. Epicurus accepts the homage, 360. Disparagement of Socrates by Colotes, 361. Though our senses are not perfect, they may in general be safely relied on, 362. If self-knowledge is valuable, Colotes is blamable for scoffing at those who seek it, 363. Stilpo defended against Colotes, 365-367. That one thing cannot be predicated of another may not endanger life, 365. It is bad to withhold reverence and worship from the gods, as Colotes and the Epicureans do, 366. Colotes assaults the philosophers of his own time, 367. He condemns even the opinions of Epicurus, when he finds them held by others, 368, 369. The Cyrenaic philosophers ridiculed, 369. Arcesilaus unfairly treated by Colotes, 371. Three sorts of motions in the soul: what they are; their influence, 371, 372. Absurdity of Epicureanism, 373. The opinions of Epicurus tend to universal scepticism, 374. It is well and safe in some cases to withhold our assent, and to doubt in matters which do not appear credible, as did Arcesilaus and his followers, 371-376. Safety of believing and following the doctrines of Socrates, Plato, and the Academy, 377. Degradation and danger resulting from the doctrines of Epicurus, 377, 378. Those doctrines fatal to the state, 379. No people, no city, is found without some religion, but Epicureanism subverts all religion, 380. Great public spirit of Democritus, Parmenides, Socrates, Plato, and others, who are reviled by Colotes and other Epicureans, 381, 382. Men of the school of Epicurus do not contribute to the public welfare, 383-385.

PLUTARCH’S CONSOLATORY LETTER TO HIS WIFE.

BY ROBERT MIDGLEY, M.D., AND COLL. MED. LOND. CAND.

He counsels patience, 386. The child was affectionate and interesting; her memory should be cherished, 387. The mother is commended for controlling her grief; excessive grief is unreasonable, 388. The mother’s admirable conduct on the previous death of her eldest son, 389. Women are frantic with joy at the birth of their children, and mourn excessively at their death, 389, 390. The body should not suffer through grief, 390. Women nourish and increase the grief of bereaved wives and mothers, by their tears and lamentations when visiting them; Plutarch does not fear this in the present case, 390. We should remember the pleasure our deceased child has afforded us, 391. True happiness arises from the mind itself, and not from external circumstances, 392. You have much left to comfort you, 392. State of the soul after death; the soul will return to earth in a new body; an early death is desirable, 393, 394.

OF THE THREE SORTS OF GOVERNMENT,—MONARCHY, DEMOCRACY, AND OLIGARCHY.

BY R. SMITH, M.A.

Which of these three sorts is best? 395. The word policy or government defined, 396. The Persians had monarchy; Sparta had an oligarchy; Athens was a democracy: and all were powerful and prosperous, 397. The author prefers monarchy, 398.

WHETHER THE ATHENIANS WERE MORE RENOWNED FOR THEIR WARLIKE ACHIEVEMENTS OR THEIR LEARNING.

BY THE SAME HAND.

Historians, even the most admired and popular, only relate the actions of other men, 399. Athens was the nurse of History, of Painting, and of Poetry; and has derived great reputation thereby, 400, 401. But what are historians, painters, and poets, compared with the generals, admirals, and statesmen, whom they commemorate? 402, 403. Athens not renowned for epic or lyric verse, 404. Tragedy flourished there, but what benefit did tragedy procure for the Athenians? 405. They lavished money on scenes and shows, to the neglect of more important interests, 406. True renown belongs to those commanders who have upheld the honor of their country, and they merit a lasting remembrance, 407, 408. But not so poets, rhetoricians, and orators, 408-411. Miltiades and other commanders, compared with Demosthenes and other orators, to the disadvantage of the latter 408-411.

AGAINST RUNNING IN DEBT, OR TAKING UP MONEY UPON USURY.

BY THE SAME HAND.

Running in debt should not be resorted to but in the last necessity, 412. To avoid it, practise the closest economy, 413. The borrower is slave to the lender, 414, 415. Usurers are chargeable with oppression, fraud, and falsehood, 416, 417. They take a man’s money without an equivalent, 417. It is shameful to be in the power of another, 418. We incur debt, not to procure necessaries, but to purchase ornaments and superfluities, 420. We must avoid the usurer or be ruined, 421-424.

PLATONIC QUESTIONS.

BY R. BROWN, M.L.

1. Why did Socrates act the midwife’s part, rather than the parent’s? in other words, why did he prefer to develop in the minds of others the germs of knowledge, rather than communicate knowledge to them? 425-427. 2. Why does Plato call the supreme God the Father and Maker of all things? 428, 429. 3. What does Plato, in his Republic, mean by dividing the universe into unequal parts? and of the sections, thus made, which is the greater, the Intelligible or the Sensible? 429-432. 4. Plato always says that the Soul is elder than the Body, and the cause and principle of its rise. Yet he also says that neither could the Soul exist without the Body, nor the Reason without the Soul, but the Soul in the Body, and the Reason in the soul. How can this be explained? 432. 5. Since geometrical figures and solids are contained, partly by Rectilinears and partly by Circles, why does Plato make Isosceles Triangles and Triangles of unequal sides the Principles of Rectilinears, &c.? 433-435. 6. Why does Plato say that the nature of a Wing participates most of the Body of God? 435. 7. In what sense does Plato say that the Antiperistasis, or Reaction, of Motion, is the cause of the effect, in using cupping-glasses, in swallowing, in throwing of weights, in the use of the loadstone, &c.? 435-438. 8. What does he mean in the Timaeus when he says that Souls are dispersed into the Earth, the Moon, and into other instruments of time? Is the Earth, is the Sun, an instrument of time? 438-441. 9. Did Plato, in his Republic, place the Rational or the Irascible Faculty in the middle chord of the human faculties? 441-444. 10. Why did he say that Speech is composed of Nouns and Verbs? 444-449. Because they are the principal elements, ib.

PARALLELS, OR A COMPARISON BETWEEN THE GREEK AND ROMAN HISTORIES.

BY JOHN OSWALD, M.A.

1. Invasion of Attica by Datis; the story of Cynaegirus, matched with the story of a Roman, 450, 451. 2. Invasion of Greece by Xerxes; war of Porsena against Rome; a story under each, 451, 452. 3. Combat of the Argives with the Lacedaemonians in Thyreatis; defeat of the Romans at the Caudine Forks, 452, 453 4. Leonidas at Thermopylae; Fabius Maximus in the Punic War, 453. 5. Chasms in the earth closed by men leaping into them, 454. 6. Amphiaraus, and Valerius Conatus, swallowed up alive by the earth, 455. 7. A king of Euboea, and a king of Alba, drawn in pieces by horses, 455. 8. Philip of Macedon and Aster the archer, Porsena of Clusium and Horatius Cocles, 456. 9. Saturn and his four children, 456, 457. 10. Pausanias, the Spartan traitor, and Cassius, a Roman traitor, both starved to death, 457. 11. Filial treachery in Persian and in Roman history, and its punishment, 458. 12. A son of Epaminondas, the Theban general, and a son of Manlius, the Roman consul, beheaded for disobeying the orders of their fathers, 458, 459. 13. Iole, the beloved of Hercules, threw herself from a wall without hurt; this story matched from Roman history, 459. 14. The sacrifice of Iphigenia at Aulis, matched among the Romans, 459, 460. 15. The story of Tarpeia, promising to betray the Roman capitol, matched at Ephesus, 460. 16. The combat of the Horatii and Curiatii in Roman history has a parallel in Tegea, 460, 461. 17. The Palladium in Ilium and in Rome, 461. 18. Codrus of Athens, and Decius of Rome, 462. 19. A Syracusan and a Roman, each having refused worship to Bacchus, are intoxicated to commit incest, and are slain, 462, 463. 20. A daughter of Erechtheus, and a daughter of Marius, sacrificed by their fathers to procure victory, 463. 21. A Thessalian wife, and a Sybarite wife, torn in pieces by dogs of their husbands, 463, 464. 22. Two maidens, a Greek and a Roman, who had carnal knowledge of their fathers; their punishment, 464, 465. 23. Diomedes and Calpurnius Crassus liberated from captivity by women who loved them, 465. 24. Priam commits his son to the care of one who murdered him; the story matched in Roman history, 465, 466. 25. Aeacus and his two sons; Caius Maximus and his two sons, 466. 26. Mars, and his lascivious misdoings in Greece and Italy, 466, 467. 27. Telamon deflowers a virgin, whose father orders her to be thrown into the sea; a parallel at Rome, 467. 28. Six sons and six daughters in two different families; incest of a brother with a sister, 467, 468. 29. Two cases of men having carnal knowledge of brutes, and what followed, 468. 30. As the price of peace women are given up to the embraces of the enemy, 468, 469. 31. The allowance of soldiers shortened in war, and the fatal result to him who did it, 469. 32. Romulus murdered in the senate, and his body carried away in pieces; a parallel in the Peloponnesian war, 470. 33. Pelops and his two sons, Atreus and Thyestes, their story; a parallel in Italy, 470, 471. 34. Theseus and his son Hippolytus; the latter is killed by his horses running away: a parallel in Italy, 471, 472. 35. A noble virgin to be sacrificed to obtain relief from pestilence: an instance in Lacedaemon, another in Falerii, 472, 473. 36. The story of Romulus and Remus suckled by a she-wolf: a parallel in Arcadia, 473. 37. Orestes slays his mother, in revenge of his father’s death: a similar story from Rome, 474. 38. Strangers murdered by Busiris in Egypt, and by Faunus in Italy, 474. 39. A brazen cow made for Phalaris of Agrigentum, a brazen horse for a tyrant of Egesta, 474, 475. 40. Evenus cannot keep his daughter a virgin: neither can Anius, king of the Tuscans, 475.

OF THE NAMES OF RIVERS AND MOUNTAINS, AND OF SUCH THINGS AS ARE TO BE FOUND THEREIN.

BY R. WHITE, M.A.

1. Hydaspes, a river in India, why it received the name, &c., 477, 478. 2. Ismenus, a river of Boeotia, Cadmus, mount Cithaeron, Tisiphone, &c., 478-480. 3. Hebrus, a river of Thrace; mount Pangaeus, 480, 481. 4. Ganges, the mountain Anatole, 481, 482. 5. Phasis, a river of Thrace; mount Caucasus, 482-484. 6. Arar, a river of Gaul; mount Lugdunum, 484, 485. 7. Pactolus, in Lydia; mount Tmolus, 485-487. 8. Lycormas, in Aetolia, 487. 9. Maeander, in Asia; mount Sipylus, 488, 489. 10. Marsyas, in Phrygia, 490. 11. Strymon, in Thrace; the mountains Rhodope and Haemus, 491, 492. 12. Sagaris, in Phrygia, 492. 18. Scamander, in Troas; mount Ida, 493. 14. Tanais, in Scythia; mount Brixaba, 494. 15. Thermodon, in Scythia, 495. 16. Nile, formerly Melas and Aegyptus, 495-497. 17. Eurotas, in Laconia; mount Taygetus, 497, 498. 18. Inachus, in Argolis; mount Mycenae, &c., 498-501. 19. Alpheus, in Arcadia; mount Cronium, 501, 502. 20. Euphrates, 502. 21. Caicus, in Mysia; mount Teuthras, 503, 504. 22. Achelous, in Aetolia; mount Calydon, 504, 505. 23. Araxes, in Armenia; mount Diorphus, 506, 507. 24. Tigris; mount Gauran, 507, 508. 25. Indus; mount Lilaeus, 508, 509.

INDEX. 511

PLUTARCH’S MORALS.

VOL. V.

PLUTARCH’S MORALS.

OF EATING OF FLESH.

TRACT I.

1. You ask of me then for what reason it was that Pythagoras abstained from eating of flesh. I for my part do much admire in what humor, with what soul or reason, the first man with his mouth touched slaughter, and reached to his lips the flesh of a dead animal, and having set before people courses of ghastly corpses and ghosts, could give those parts the names of meat and victuals, that but a little before lowed, cried, moved, and saw; how his sight could endure the blood of slaughtered, flayed, and mangled bodies; how his smell could bear their scent; and how the very nastiness happened not to offend the taste, while it chewed the sores of others, and participated of the saps and juices of deadly wounds.

Crept the raw hides, and with a bellowing sound Roared the dead limbs; the burning entrails groaned.[1]

This indeed is but a fiction and fancy; but the fare itself is truly monstrous and prodigious,—that a man should have a stomach to creatures while they yet bellow, and that he should be giving directions which of things yet alive and speaking is fittest to make food of, and ordering the several manners of the seasoning and dressing them and serving them up to tables. You ought rather, in my opinion, to have enquired who first began this practice, than who of late times left it off.

2. And truly, as for those people who first ventured upon eating of flesh, it is very probable that the whole reason of their so doing was scarcity and want of other food; for it is not likely that their living together in lawless and extravagant lusts, or their growing wanton and capricious through the excessive variety of provisions then among them, brought them to such unsociable pleasures as these, against Nature. Yea, had they at this instant but their sense and voice restored to them, I am persuaded they would express themselves to this purpose.

“Oh! happy you, and highly favored of the Gods, who now live! Into what an age of the world are you fallen, who share and enjoy among you a plentiful portion of good things! What abundance of things spring up for your use! What fruitful vineyards you enjoy! What wealth you gather from the fields! What delicacies from trees and plants, which you may gather! You may glut and fill yourselves without being polluted. As for us, we fell upon the most dismal and affrighting part of time, in which we were exposed by our first production to manifold and inextricable wants and necessities. As yet the thickened air concealed the heaven from our view, and the stars were as yet confused with a disorderly huddle of fire and moisture and violent fluxions of winds. As yet the sun was not fixed to an unwandering and certain course, so as to distinguish morning and evening, nor did he bring back the seasons in order crowned with wreaths from the fruitful harvest. The land was also spoiled by the inundations of disorderly rivers; and a great part of it was deformed with sloughs, and utterly wild by reason of deep quagmires, unfertile forests, and woods. There was then no production of tame fruits, nor any instruments of art or invention of wit. And hunger gave no time, nor did seed-time then stay for the yearly season. What wonder is it if we made use of the flesh of beasts contrary to Nature, when mud was eaten and the bark of wood, and when it was thought a happy thing to find either a sprouting grass or a root of any plant! But when they had by chance tasted of or eaten an acorn, they danced for very joy about some oak or esculus, calling it by the names of life-giver, mother, and nourisher. And this was the only festival that those times were acquainted with; upon all other occasions, all things were full of anguish and dismal sadness. But whence is it that a certain ravenousness and frenzy drives you in these happy days to pollute yourselves with blood, since you have such an abundance of things necessary for your subsistence? Why do you belie the earth as unable to maintain you? Why do you profane the lawgiver Ceres, and shame the mild and gentle Bacchus, as not furnishing you with sufficiency? Are you not ashamed to mix tame fruits with blood and slaughter? You are indeed wont to call serpents, leopards, and lions savage creatures; but yet yourselves are defiled with blood, and come nothing behind them in cruelty. What they kill is their ordinary nourishment, but what you kill is your better fare.”

BOOK IX. (part 16)

3. For we eat not lions and wolves by way of revenge; but we let those go, and catch the harmless and tame sort, and such as have neither stings nor teeth to bite with, and slay them; which, so may Jove help us, Nature seems to us to have produced for their beauty and comeliness only. [2][Just as if one seeing the river Nilus overflowing its banks, and thereby filling the whole country with genial and fertile moisture, should not at all admire that secret power in it that produces plants and plenteousness of most sweet and useful fruits, but beholding somewhere a crocodile swimming in it, or an asp crawling along, or mice (savage and filthy creatures), should presently affirm these to be the occasion of all that is amiss, or of any want or defect that may happen. Or as if indeed one contemplating this land or ground, how full it is of tame fruits, and how heavy with ears of corn, should afterwards espy somewhere in these same cornfields an ear of darnel or a wild vetch, and thereupon neglect to reap and gather in the corn, and fall a complaining of these. Such another thing it would be, if one—hearing the harangue of some advocate at some bar or pleading, swelling and enlarging and hastening towards the relief of some impending danger, or else, by Jupiter, in the impeaching and charging of certain audacious villanies or indictments, flowing and rolling along, and that not in a simple and poor strain, but with many sorts of passions all at once, or rather indeed with all sorts, in one and the same manner, into the many and various and differing minds of either hearers or judges that he is either to turn and change, or else, by Jupiter, to soften, appease, and quiet—should overlook all this business, and never consider or reckon upon the labor or struggle he had undergone, but pick up certain loose expressions, which the rapid motion of the discourse had carried along with it, as by the current of its stream, and so had slipped and escaped the rest of the oration, and hereupon undervalue the orator.]

4. But we are nothing put out of countenance, either by the beauteous gayety of the colors, or by the charmingness of the musical voices, or by the rare sagacity of the intellects, or by the cleanliness and neatness of diet, or by the rare discretion and prudence of these poor unfortunate animals; but for the sake of some little mouthful of flesh, we deprive a soul of the sun and light, and of that proportion of life and time it had been born into the world to enjoy. And then we fancy that the voices it utters and screams forth to us are nothing else but certain inarticulate sounds and noises, and not the several deprecations, entreaties, and pleadings of each of them, as it were saying thus to us: “I deprecate not thy necessity (if such there be), but thy wantonness. Kill me for thy feeding, but do not take me off for thy better feeding.” O horrible cruelty! It is truly an affecting sight to see the very table of rich people laid before them, who keep them cooks and caterers to furnish them with dead corpses for their daily fare; but it is yet more affecting to see it taken away, for the mammocks left are more than that which was eaten. These therefore were slain to no purpose. Others there are, who are so sparing of what is set before them that they will not suffer it to be cut or sliced; thus abstaining from them when dead, while they would not spare them when alive.

5. Well then, we understand that that sort of men are used to say, that in eating of flesh they follow the conduct and direction of Nature. But that it is not natural to mankind to feed on flesh, we first of all demonstrate from the very shape and figure of the body. For a human body no ways resembles those that were born for ravenousness; it hath no hawk’s bill, no sharp talon, no roughness of teeth, no such strength of stomach or heat of digestion, as can be sufficient to convert or alter such heavy and fleshy fare. But even from hence, that is, from the smoothness of the tongue, and the slowness of the stomach to digest, Nature seems to disclaim all pretence to fleshy victuals. But if you will contend that yourself was born to an inclination to such food as you have now a mind to eat, do you then yourself kill what you would eat. But do it yourself, without the help of a chopping-knife, mallet, or axe,—as wolves, bears, and lions do, who kill and eat at once. Rend an ox with thy teeth, worry a hog with thy mouth, tear a lamb or a hare in pieces, and fall on and eat it alive as they do. But if thou hadst rather stay until what thou eatest is become dead, and if thou art loath to force a soul out of its body, why then dost thou against Nature eat an animate thing? Nay, there is nobody that is willing to eat even a lifeless and a dead thing as it is; but they boil it, and roast it, and alter it by fire and medicines, as it were, changing and quenching the slaughtered gore with thousands of sweet sauces, that the palate being thereby deceived may admit of such uncouth fare. It was indeed a witty expression of a Lacedaemonian, who, having purchased a small fish in a certain inn, delivered it to his landlord to be dressed; and as he demanded cheese, and vinegar, and oil to make sauce, he replied, if I had had those, I would not have bought the fish. But we are grown so wanton in our bloody luxury, that we have bestowed upon flesh the name of meat (ὄψον), and then require another seasoning (ὄψον), to this same flesh, mixing oil, wine, honey, pickle, and vinegar, with Syrian and Arabian spices, as though we really meant to embalm it after its disease. Indeed when things are dissolved and made thus tender and soft, and are as it were turned into a sort of a carrionly corruption, it must needs be a great difficulty for concoction to master them, and when it hath mastered them, they must needs cause grievous oppressions and qualmy indigestions.

6. Diogenes ventured once to eat a raw pourcontrel, that he might disuse himself from meat dressed by fire; and as several priests and other people stood round him, he wrapped his head in his cassock, and so putting the fish to his mouth, he thus said unto them: It is for your sake, sirs, that I undergo this danger, and run this risk. A noble and gallant risk, by Jupiter! For far otherwise than as Pelopidas ventured his life for the liberty of the Thebans, and Harmodius and Aristogiton for that of the Athenians, did this philosopher encounter with a raw pourcontrel, to the end he might make human life more brutish. Moreover, these same flesh-eatings not only are preternatural to men’s bodies, but also by clogging and cloying them, they render their very minds and intellects gross. For it is well known to most, that wine and much flesh-eating make the body indeed strong and lusty, but the mind weak and feeble. And that I may not offend the wrestlers, I will make use of examples out of my own country. The Athenians are wont to call us Boeotians gross, senseless, and stupid fellows, for no other reason but our over-much eating; and Pindar calls us also hogs, for the same reason. Menander the comedian calls us “fellows with long jaws.” It is observed also that, according to the saying of Heraclitus, “the wisest soul is like a dry light.”[3] Earthen jars, if you strike them, will sound; but if they be full, they perceive not the strokes that are given them. Copper vessels also that are thin communicate the sound round about them, unless some one stop and dull the ambient stroke with his fingers. Moreover, the eye, when seized with an over-great plenitude of humors, grows dim and feeble for its ordinary work. When we behold the sun through a humid air and a great quantity of gross and indigested vapors, we see it not clear and bright, but obscure and cloudy, and with glimmering beams. Just so in a muddy and clogged body, that is swagged down with heavy and unnatural nourishments; it must needs happen that the gayety and splendor of the mind be confused and dulled, and that it ramble and roll after little and scarce discernible objects, since it wants clearness and vigor for higher things.

7. But to pass by these considerations, is not accustoming one’s self to mildness and a human temper of mind an admirable thing? For who could wrong or injure a man that is so sweetly and humanly disposed with respect to the ills of strangers that are not of his kind? I remember that three days ago, as I was discoursing, I made mention of a saying of Xenocrates, and how the Athenians gave judgment upon a certain person who had flayed a living ram. For my part I cannot think him a worse criminal that torments a poor creature while living, than a man that shall take away its life and murder it. But (as it seems) we are more sensible of what is done against custom than against Nature. There, however, I discoursed on these matters in a more popular style. But as for that grand and mysterious principle which (as Plato speaks) is incredible to base minds and to such as affect only mortal things, I as little care to move it in this discourse as a pilot doth a ship in a storm, or a comedian his machine while the scenes are moving; but perhaps it would not be amiss, by way of introduction and preface, to proclaim certain verses of Empedocles.... For in these, by way of allegory, he hints at men’s souls, as that they are tied to mortal bodies, to be punished for murders, eating of flesh and of one another, although this doctrine seems much ancienter than his time. For the fables that are storied and related about the discerption of Bacchus, and the attempts of the Titans upon him, and of their tasting of his slain body, and of their several punishments and fulminations afterwards, are but a representation of the regeneration. For what in us is unreasonable, disorderly, and boisterous, being not divine but demoniac, the ancients termed Titans, that is tormented and punished (from τίνω)....

TRACT II

1. Reason persuades us now to return with fresh cogitations and dispositions to what we left cold yesterday of our discourse about flesh-eating. It is indeed a hard and a difficult task to undertake (as Cato once said) to dispute with men’s bellies, that have no ears; since most have already drunk that draught of custom, which is like that of Circe,

Of groans and frauds and sorcery replete.[4]

And it is no easy task to pull out the hook of flesh-eating from the jaws of such as have gorged themselves with luxury and are (as it were) nailed down with it. It would indeed be a good action, if as the Egyptians draw out the stomach of a dead body, and cut it open and expose it to the sun, as the only cause of all its evil actions, so we could, by cutting out our gluttony and blood-shedding, purify and cleanse the remainder of our lives. For the stomach itself is not guilty of bloodshed, but is involuntarily polluted by our intemperance. But if this may not be, and we are ashamed by reason of custom to live unblamably, let us at least sin with discretion. Let us eat flesh; but let it be for hunger and not for wantonness. Let us kill an animal; but let us do it with sorrow and pity, and not abusing and tormenting it, as many nowadays are used to do, while some run red-hot spits through the bodies of swine, that by the tincture of the quenched iron the blood may be to that degree mortified, that it may sweeten and soften the flesh in its circulation; others jump and stamp upon the udders of sows that are ready to pig, that so they may trample into one mass, (O Piacular Jupiter!) in the very pangs of delivery, blood, milk, and the corruption of the crushed and mangled young ones, and so eat the most inflamed part of the animal; others sew up the eyes of cranes and swans, and so shut them up in darkness to be fattened, and then souse up their flesh with certain monstrous mixtures and pickles.

2. By all which it is most manifest, that it is not for nourishment, or want, or any necessity, but for mere gluttony, wantonness, and expensiveness, that they make a pleasure of villany. Just as it happens in persons who cannot satiate their intemperance upon women, and having made trial of every thing else and falling into vagaries, at last attempt things not to be mentioned; even so inordinateness in feeding, when it hath once passed the bounds of nature and necessity, studies at last to diversify the lusts of its intemperate appetite by cruelty and villany. For the senses, when they once quit their natural measures, sympathize with each other in their distempers, and are enticed by each other to the same consent and intemperance. Thus a distempered ear first debauched music, the soft and effeminate notes of which provoke immodest touches and lascivious tickling. These things first taught the eye not to delight in Pyrrhic dances, gesticulations of hands, or elegant pantomimes, nor in statues and fine paintings; but to reckon the slaughtering and death of mankind and wounds and duels the most sumptuous of shows and spectacles. Thus unlawful tables are accompanied with intemperate copulations, with unmusician-like balls, and theatres become monstrous through shameful songs and rehearsals; and barbarous and brutish shows are again accompanied with an unrelenting temper and savage cruelty towards mankind. Hence it was that the divine Lycurgus in his Three Books of Laws gave orders that the doors and ridges of men’s houses should be made with a saw and an axe, and that no other instrument should so much as be brought to any house. Not that he did hereby intend to declare war against augers and planes and other instruments of finer work; but because he very well knew that with such tools as these you will never bring into your house a gilded couch, and that you will never attempt to bring into a slender cottage either silver tables, purple carpets, or costly stones; but that a plain supper and a homely dinner must accompany such a house, couch, table, and cup. The beginning of a vicious diet is presently followed by all sorts of luxury and expensiveness,

Ev’n as a mare is by her thirsty colt.

3. And what meal is not expensive? That for which no animal is put to death. Shall we reckon a soul to be a small expense. I will not say perhaps of a mother, or a father, or of some friend, or child, as Empedocles did; but one participating of feeling, of seeing, of hearing, of imagination, and of intellection; which each animal hath received from Nature for the acquiring of what is agreeable to it, and the avoiding what is disagreeable. Do but consider this with yourself now, which sort of philosophers render us most tame and civil, they who bid people to feed on their children, friends, fathers, and wives, when they are dead; or Pythagoras and Empedocles, that accustom men to be just towards even the other members of the creation. You laugh at a man that will not eat a sheep: but we (they will say again)—when we see you cutting off the parts of your dead father or mother, and sending it to your absent friends, and calling upon and inviting your present friends to eat the rest freely and heartily—shall we not smile? Nay, peradventure we offend at this instant time while we touch these books, without having first cleansed our hands, eyes, feet, and ears; if it be not (by Jupiter) a sufficient purgation of them to have discoursed of these matters in potable and fresh language (as Plato speaketh), thereby washing off the brackishness of hearing. Now if a man should set these books and discourses in opposition to each other, he will find that the philosophy of the one sort suits with the Scythians, Sogdians, and Melanchlaenians, of whom Herodotus’s relation is scarce believed; but the sentiments of Pythagoras and Empedocles were the laws and customs of the ancient Grecians.

4. Who then were the first authors of this opinion, that we owe no justice to dumb animals?

Who first beat out accursed steel, And made the lab’ring ox a knife to feel.

In the very same manner oppressors and tyrants begin first to shed blood. For example, the first man that the Athenians ever put to death was one of the basest of all knaves, whom all thought deserving of death; after him they put to death a second and a third. After this, being now accustomed to blood, they patiently saw Niceratus the son of Nicias, and their own general Theramenes, and Polemarchus the philosopher suffer death. Even so, in the beginning, some wild and mischievous beast was killed and eaten, and then some little bird or fish was entrapped. And the love of slaughter, being first experimented and exercised in these, at last passed even to the laboring ox, and the sheep that clothes us, and to the poor cock that keeps the house; until by little and little, unsatiableness being strengthened by use, men came to the slaughter of men, to bloodshed and wars. Now even if one cannot demonstrate and make out, that souls in their regenerations make a promiscuous use of all bodies, and that that which is now rational will at another time be irrational, and that again tame which is now wild,—for that Nature changes and transmutes every thing.

With different fleshy coats new clothing all,—

this thing should be sufficient to change and reclaim men, that it is a savage and intemperate habit, that it brings sickness and heaviness upon the body, and that it inclines the mind the more brutishly to bloodshed and destruction, when we have once accustomed ourselves neither to entertain a guest nor keep a wedding nor to treat our friends without blood and slaughter.

5. And if what is argued about the return of souls into bodies is not of force enough to beget faith, yet methinks the very uncertainty of the thing should fill us with apprehension and fear. Suppose, for instance, one should in some night-engagement run on with his drawn sword upon one that had fallen down and covered his body with his arms, and should in the mean time hear one say, that he was not very sure, but that he fancied and believed, that the party lying there was his own son, brother, father, or tent-companion; which were more advisable, think you,—to hearken to a false suggestion, and so to let go an enemy under the notion of a friend, or to slight an authority not sufficient to beget faith, and to slay a friend instead of a foe? This you will all say would be insupportable. Do but consider the famous Merope in the tragedy, who taking up a hatchet, and lifting it at her son’s head, whom she took for her son’s murderer, speaks thus as she was ready to give the fatal blow,

Villain, this pious blow shall cleave thy head;[5]

what a bustle she raises in the whole theatre while she raises herself to give the blow, and what a fear they are all in, lest she should prevent the old man that comes to stop her hand, and should wound the youth. Now if another old man should stand by her and say, “Strike, it is thy enemy,” and this, “Hold, it is thy son;” which, think you, would be the greater injustice, to omit the punishing of an enemy for the sake of one’s child, or to suffer one’s self to be so transported with anger at an enemy as to kill one’s child? Since then neither hatred nor wrath nor any revenge nor fear for ourselves carries us to the slaughter of a beast, but the poor sacrifice stands with an inclined neck, only to satisfy thy lust and pleasure, and then one philosopher stands by and tells thee, “Cut him down, it is but an unreasonable animal,” and another cries, “Hold, what if there should be the soul of some kinsman or God inclosed in him”?—good Gods! is there the like danger if I refuse to eat flesh, as if I for want of faith murder my child or some other friend?

6. The Stoics’ way of reasoning upon this subject of flesh-eating is no way equal nor consonant with themselves. Who is this that hath so many mouths for his belly and the kitchen? Whence comes it to pass, that they so very much womanize and reproach pleasure, as a thing that they will not allow to be either good or preferable, or so much as agreeable, and yet all on a sudden become so zealous advocates for pleasures? It were indeed but a reasonable consequence of their doctrine, that, since they banish perfumes and cakes from their banquets, they should be much more averse to blood and to flesh. But now, just as if they would reduce their philosophy to their day-books, they lessen the expenses of their suppers in certain unnecessary and needless matters, but the untamed and murderous part of their expense they nothing boggle at. “Well! What then?” say they. “We have nothing to do with brute beasts.” Nor have you any with perfumes, nor with foreign sauces, may some one answer; therefore expel these from your banquets, if you are driving out every thing that is both useless and needless.

7. Let us therefore in the next place consider, whether we owe any justice to the brute beasts. Neither shall we handle this point artificially, or like subtle sophisters, but by casting our eye into our own breasts, and conversing with ourselves as men, we will weigh and examine the whole matter....

LIVES OF THE TEN ORATORS.

I. ANTIPHON.

ANTIPHON, the son of Sophilus, by descent a Rhamnusian, was his father’s scholar; for Sophilus kept a rhetoric school, to which it is reported that Alcibiades himself had recourse in his youth. Having attained to competent measure of knowledge and eloquence,—and that, as some believe, from his own natural ingenuity,—he dedicated his study chiefly to affairs of state. And yet he was for some time conversant in the schools, and had a controversy with Socrates the philosopher about the art of disputing,—not so much for the sake of contention as for the profit of arguing, as Xenophon tells us in his Commentaries of Socrates. At the request of some citizens, he wrote orations by which they defended their suits at law. Some say that he was the first that ever did any thing of this nature. For it is certain there is not one juridical oration extant written by any orator that lived before him, nor by his contemporaries either, as Themistocles, Aristides, and Pericles; though the times gave them opportunity, and there was need enough of their labor in such business. Not that we are to impute it to their want of parts that they did nothing in this way, for we may inform ourselves of the contrary from what historians relate of each of them. Besides, if we inspect the most ancient of those known in history who had the same form and method in their pleadings, such as Alcibiades, Critias, Lysias, and Archinous, we shall find that they all followed Antiphon when he was old. For being a man of incomparable sagacity, he was the first that published institutions of oratory; and by reason of his profound learning, he was surnamed Nestor. Caecilius, in a tract which he wrote of him, supposes him to have been Thucydides’s pupil, from what Antiphon delivered in praise of him. He is most accurate in his orations, in invention subtle; and he would frequently baffle his adversary at unawares, by a covert sort of pleading; in troublesome and intricate matters he was very judicious and sharp; and as he was a great admirer of ornamental speaking, he would always adapt his orations to both law and reason.

He lived about the time of the Persian war and of Gorgias the rhetorician, being somewhat younger than he. And he lived to see the subversion of the popular government in the commonwealth which was wrought by the four hundred conspirators, in which he himself is thought to have had the chiefest hand, being sometimes commander of two galleys, and sometimes general, and having by the many and great victories he obtained gained them many allies, he armed the young men, manned out sixty galleys, and on all their occasions went ambassador to Lacedaemon at the time when Eetionia was fortified. But when those Four Hundred were overcome and taken down, he with Archeptolemus, who was likewise one of the same number, was accused of the conspiracy, condemned, and sentenced to the punishment due to traitors, his body cast out unburied, and all his posterity infamous on record. But there are some who tell us, that he was put to death by the Thirty Tyrants; and among the rest, Lysias, in his oration for Antiphon’s daughter, says the same; for he left a little daughter, whom Callaeschrus claimed for his wife by the law of propinquity. And Theopompus likewise, in his Fifteenth Book of Philippics, tells us the same thing. But this must have been another Antiphon, son of Lysidonides, whom Cratinus mentions in his Pytine as a rascal. But how could he be executed in the time of the Four Hundred, and afterward live to be put to death by the Thirty Tyrants? There is likewise another story of the manner of his death: that when he was old, he sailed to Syracuse, when the tyranny of Dionysius the First was most famous; and being at table, a question was put, what sort of brass was best. When others had answered as they thought most proper, he replied, That is the best brass, of which the statues of Harmodius and Aristogiton were made. The tyrant hearing this, and taking it as a tacit exhortation to his subjects to contrive his ruin, he commanded Antiphon to be put to death; and some say that he put him to death for deriding his tragedies.

This orator is reported to have written sixty orations; but Caecilius supposes twenty-five of them to be spurious and none of his. Plato, in his comedy called Pisander, traduces him as a covetous man. He is reported to have composed some of his tragedies alone, and others with Dionysius the tyrant. While he was poetically inclined, he invented an art of curing the distemper of the mind, as physicians are wont to provide cure of bodily diseases. And having at Corinth built him a little house, in or near the market, he set a postscript over the gate, to this effect: that he had a way to cure the distemper of men’s minds by words; and let him but know the cause of their malady, he would immediately prescribe the remedy, to their comfort. But after some time, thinking that art not worth his while, he betook himself to the study and teaching of oratory. There are some who ascribe the book of Glaucus of Rhegium concerning Poets to him as author. His orations concerning Herodes, against Erasistratus concerning Peacocks,[6] are very much commended, and also that which, when he was accused, he penned for himself against a public indictment, and that against Demosthenes the general for moving an illegal measure. He likewise had another against Hippocrates the general; who did not appear on the day appointed for his trial, and was condemned in his absence.

Caecilius has recorded the decree of the senate for the judicial trial of Antiphon, passed in the year[7] in which Theopompus was chief magistrate of Athens, the same in which the Four Hundred were overthrown,—in these words:

“Enacted by the senate on the twenty-first day of the prytany. Demonicus of Alopece was clerk; Philostratus of Pallene was president.

“Andron moved in regard to those men,—viz. Archeptolemus, Onomacles, and Antiphon, whom the generals had declared against, for that they went in an embassage to Lacedaemon, to the great damage of the city of Athens, and departed from the camp in an enemies’ ship, and went through Decelea by land,—that they should be apprehended and brought before the court for a legal trial.

“Therefore let the generals, with others of the senate, to the number of ten, whom it shall please the generals to name and choose, look after these men to present them before the court, that they may be present during the proceedings. Then let the Thesmothetes summon the defendants to appear on the morrow, and let them open the proceedings in court at the time at which the summonses shall be returnable. Then let the chosen advocates, with the generals and any others who may have any thing to say, accuse the defendants of treason; and if any one of them shall be found guilty, let sentence be passed upon him as a traitor, according to the law in such case made and provided.”

At the bottom of this decree was subscribed the sentence.—

“Archeptolemus son of Hippodamus, the Agrylian, and Antiphon son of Sophilus, the Ramnusian, being both present in court, are condemned of treason. And this was to be their punishment: that they should be delivered to the eleven executioners, their goods confiscated, the tenth part of them being first consecrated to Minerva; their houses to be levelled with the ground, and in the places where they stood this subscription to be engraven on brass, '[The houses] of Archeptolemus and Antiphon, traitors.’...[8] That Archeptolemus and Antiphon should neither of them be buried in Athens, nor anywhere else under that government. And besides all this, that their posterity should be accounted infamous, bastards as well as their lawful progeny; and he too should be held infamous who should adopt any one of their progeny for his son. And that all this should be engrossed and engraven on a brass column, and that column should be placed where that stands on which is engraven the decree concerning Phrynichus.”

II. ANDOCIDES.

ANDOCIDES, the son of Leogoras, [and grandson of that Andocides] who once made a peace between the Athenians and the Lacedaemonians, by descent a Cydathenian or Thorian, of a noble family, and, as Hellanicus tells us, the offspring of Mercury himself, for the race of Heralds belongs to him. On this account he was chosen by the people to go with Glaucon, with twenty sail of ships, to aid the Corcyraeans against the Corinthians. But in process of time he was accused of some notorious acts of impiety, as that he was of the number of those who defaced the statues of Mercury and divulged the sacred mysteries of Ceres. And withal, he had been before this time wild and intemperate, and had once been seen in the night in masquerade to break one of the statues of Mercury; and when on his trial he refused to bring his servant to examination whom his accusers named, he not only remained under this reproach, but was also on this account very much suspected to be guilty of the second crime too. This later action was laid to his charge soon after the expedition of the navy sent by the Athenians into Sicily. For, as Cratippus informs us, when the Corinthians sent the Leontines and Egestians to the Athenians, who hesitated to lend them assistance, they in the night defaced and brake all the statues of Mercury which were erected in the market. To which offence Andocides added another, that of divulging the mysteries of Ceres. He was brought to his trial, but was acquitted on condition he would discover who were companions with him in the crime. In which affair being very diligent, he found out who they were that had been guilty, and among the rest he discovered his own father. He proved all guilty, and caused them all to be put to death except his father, whom he saved, though in prison, by a promise of some eminent service he would do to the commonwealth. Nor did he fail of what he promised; for Leogoras accused many who had acted in several matters against the interest of the commonwealth, and for this was acquitted of his own crime.

Now, though Andocides was very much esteemed of for his skill in the management of the affairs of the commonwealth, yet his inclinations led him rather to traffic by sea; and by this means he contracted friendship with the kings of Cyprus and other great princes. At which time he privily stole a damsel of the city, the daughter of Aristides, and his own niece, and sent her as a present to the king of Cyprus. But suspecting he should be called in question for it, he again stole her from Cyprus, for which the king of Cyprus took him and clapped him up in prison; whence he brake loose, and returned to Athens, just at that time when the four hundred conspirators had usurped the government. By whom being confined, he again escaped when the oligarchical government was broken up.... But when the Thirty Tyrants were uppermost, he withdrew to Elis, and there lived till Thrasybulus and his faction returned into the city, and then he also repaired thither. And after some time, being sent to Lacedaemon to conciliate a peace, he was again suspected to be faulty, and on that suspicion banished.

He himself has given an account of all these transactions, in his orations, which he has left behind him. For some of them contain his defence of himself in regard to the mysteries; others his petition for restoration from exile; there is one extant on Endeixis (or information laid against a criminal); also a defence against Phaeax, and one on the peace. He flourished at the same time with Socrates the philosopher. He was born in the seventy-eighth Olympiad, when Theogenides was chief magistrate of Athens, so that he should seem to be about ten years before Lysias. There is an image of Mercury, called from his name, being given by the tribe Aegeis; and it stood near the house where Andocides dwelt, and was therefore called by his name. This Andocides himself was at the charge of a cyclic chorus for the tribe Aegeis, at the performance of a dithyrambus. And having gained a victory, he erected a tripod on an ascent opposite to the tuffstone statue of Silenus. His style in his orations is plain and easy, without the least affectation or any thing of a figurative ornament.

III. LYSIAS.

LYSIAS was the son of Cephalus, grandson of Lysanias, and great-grandson of Cephalus. His father was by birth a Syracusan; but partly for the love he had to the city, and partly in condescension to the persuasions of Pericles the son of Xanthippus, who entertained him as his friend and guest, he went to live at Athens, being a man of great wealth. Some say that he was banished Syracuse when the city was under the tyranny of Gelo. Lysias was born at Athens when Philocles, the successor of Phrasicles, was chief magistrate, in the second year of the eightieth Olympiad.[9] At his first coming, he was educated among the most noble of the Athenians. But when the city sent a colony to Sybaris, which was afterwards called Thurii, he went thither with his other brother Polemarchus, his father being now dead (for he had two other brothers, Euthydemus and Brachyllus), that he might receive his portion of his father’s estate. This was done in the fifteenth year of his age, when Praxiteles was chief magistrate.[10] There then he stayed, and was brought up under Nicias and Tisias, both Syracusans. And having purchased a house and received his estate, he lived as a citizen for thirty-three years, till the year of Cleocritus.[11] In the year following, in the time of Callias, viz. in the ninety-second Olympiad, when the Athenians had met with their disasters in Sicily, and when other of their allies revolted, and especially the Italians, he, being accused of favoring the Athenians, was banished with three other of his association; when coming to Athens, in the year wherein Callias succeeded Cleocritus, the city then laboring under the tyranny of the four hundred conspirators, he there sat down. But after the fight at Aegospotami, when the Thirty Tyrants had usurped the government, he was banished thence, after he had remained in Athens seven years. His goods were confiscated; and having likewise lost his brother Polemarchus, he himself escaped by a back door of the house in which he was kept for execution, fled to Megara and there lived. But when the citizens endeavored to return from Phyle, he also behaved himself very well, and appeared very active in the affair, having, to forward this great enterprise, deposited two thousand drachms of silver and two hundred targets, and being commissioned with Hermas, he maintained three hundred men in arms, and prevailed with Thrasylaeus the Elean, his old friend and host, to contribute two talents. Upon entering the city, Thrasybulus proposed that, for a consideration of his good service to the public, he should receive the rights of citizenship: this was during the so-called time of anarchy before Euclides. Which proposal being ratified by the people, Archinus objected that it was against the laws, and a decree without authority of the senate. The decree was thereupon declared void, and Lysias lost his citizenship. He led the remainder of his life in the rank of an Isoteles (or citizen who had no right to vote or hold office), and died at last at Athens, being fourscore and three years old, or as some would have it, seventy-six; and others again say, that he lived above fourscore years, till after the birth of Demosthenes. It is supposed he was born in the year of Philocles.

There are four hundred and twenty-five orations which bear his name, of which Dionysius and Caecilius affirm only two hundred and thirty to be genuine, and he is said to have been overcome but twice in all. There is extant also the oration which he made in defence of the fore-mentioned decree against Archinus, who indicted it and thereby prevented Lysias from receiving the citizenship, as also another against the Thirty Tyrants. He was very cogent in his persuasions, and was always very brief in what he delivered. He would commonly give orations to private persons. There are likewise his institutions of oratory, his public harangues, his epistles, his eulogies, funeral orations, discourses of love, and his defence of Socrates, accommodated to the minds of the judges. His style seems plain and easy, though hardly imitable. Demosthenes, in his oration against Neaera, says that he was in love with one Metanira, Neaera’s serving-maid, but afterwards married his brother Brachyllus’s daughter. Plato in his Phaedrus makes mention of him, as a most eloquent orator and ancienter than Isocrates. Philiscus, his companion, and Isocrates’s votary, composed an epigram concerning him, whence the same that we have urged from Plato is deducible; and it sings to this effect:

Calliope’s witty daughter, Phrontis, show If aught of wit or eloquence thou hast; For ’tis decreed that thou shalt bear a son, Lysias by name, to spread the name of him Whose great and generous acts do fill the world, And are received for glorious above. Let him who sings those praises of the dead, Let him, my friend, too, praise our amity.

He likewise wrote two orations for Iphicrates,—one against Harmodius, and another accusing Timotheus of treason,—in both which he overcame. But when Iphicrates made himself responsible for Timotheus’s actions, and would purge himself of the allegation of treason made also against him, Lysias wrote an oration for him to deliver in his defence; upon which he was acquitted, but Timotheus was fined in a considerable sum of money. He likewise delivered an oration at the Olympic games, in which he endeavored to convince the Greeks of how great advantage it would be to them, if they could but unanimously join to pull down the tyrant Dionysius.

IV. ISOCRATES.

ISOCRATES was the son of Theodorus, of Erchia, reckoned among the middle class of citizens, and a man who kept servants under him to make flutes, by which he got so much money as enabled him not only to bring up his children after the most genteel manner, but likewise to maintain a choir. For besides Isocrates, he had other sons, Telesippus and Diomnestus, and one daughter. And hence, we may suppose, those two comical poets, Aristophanes and Stratis, took occasion to bring him on the stage. He was born in the eighty-sixth Olympiad,[12] Lysimachus being archon, about two and twenty years after Lysias, and seven before Plato. When he was a boy, he was as well educated as any of the Athenian children, being under the tuition of Prodicus the Cean, Gorgias the Leontine, Tisias the Syracusan, and Theramenes the rhetorician. And when Theramenes was to be apprehended by the order of the Thirty Tyrants, and flying for succor to the altar of the senate, only Isocrates stood his friend, when all others were struck with terror. For a long time he stood silent; but after some time Theramenes advised him to desist, because, he told him, it would be an aggravation of his grief, if any of his friends should come into trouble through him. And it is said that he made use of certain institutions of rhetoric composed by Theramenes, when he was slandered in court; which institutions have since borne Boton’s name.

When Isocrates was come to man’s estate, he meddled with nothing of state affairs, both because he had a very weak voice and because he was something timorous; and besides these two impediments, his estate was much impaired by the loss of a great part of his patrimony in the war with the Lacedaemonians. It is evident that he composed orations for others to use, but delivered only one, that concerning Exchange of Property. Having set up a school, he gave himself much to writing and the study of philosophy, and then he wrote his Panegyrical oration, and others which were used for advice, some of which he delivered himself, and others he gave to others to pronounce for him; aiming thereby to persuade the Greeks to the study and practice of such things as were of most immediate concern to them. But his endeavors in that way proving to no purpose, he gave those things over, and opened a school in Chios first, as some will have it, having for a beginning nine scholars; and when they came to him to pay him for their schooling, he weeping said, “Now I see plainly that I am sold to my scholars.” He admitted all into his acquaintance who desired it. He was the first that made a separation between wrangling pleas and political arguments, to which latter he rather addicted himself. He instituted a form of magistracy in Chios, much the same with that at Athens. No schoolmaster ever got so much; so that he maintained a galley at his own charge. He had more than a hundred scholars, and among others Timotheus the son of Conon was one, with whom he visited many cities, and composed the epistles which Timotheus sent to the Athenians; who for his pains gave him a talent out of that which he got at Samos. Theopompus likewise the Chian, Ephorus the Cumaean, Asclepiades who composed arguments for tragedies, and Theodectes of Phaselis, who afterwards wrote tragedies, were all Isocrates’s scholars. The last of these had a monument in the way to the shrine of Cyamites, as we go to Eleusis by the Sacred Way, of which now remains only rubbish. There also he set up with his own the statues of other famous poets, of all which only Homer’s is to be seen. Leodamas also the Athenian, and Lacritus who gave laws to the Athenians, were both his scholars; and some say, Hyperides and Isaeus too. They add likewise, that Demosthenes also was very desirous to learn of him, and because he could not give the full rate, which was a thousand drachms, he offered him two hundred, the fifth part, if he would teach him but the fifth part of his art proportionable: to whom Isocrates answered, We do not use, Demosthenes, to impart our skill by halves, but as men sell good fish whole, or altogether, so if thou hast a desire to learn, we will teach thee our full art, and not a piece of it. He died in the year when Charondas was chief magistrate,[13] when, being at Hippocrates’s public exercise, he received the news of the slaughter at Chaeronea; for he was the cause of his own death by a four days’ fast, which he then made, pronouncing just at his departure the three verses which begin three tragedies of Euripides:

Danaus, father of the fifty sisters,— Pelops, son of Tantalus, in quest of Pisa,— Cadmus, in time past, going from Sidon.

He lived ninety-eight years, or, as some say, a hundred, not being able to behold Greece the fourth time brought into slavery. The year (or, as some say, four years) before he died, he wrote his Panathenaic oration. He labored upon his Panegyric oration ten years, or, as some tell us, fifteen, which he is supposed to have borrowed out of Gorgias the Leontine and Lysias. His oration concerning Exchange of Property he wrote when he was eighty-two years old, and those to Philip a little before his death. When he was old, he adopted Aphareus, the youngest of the three sons of Plathane, the daughter of Hippias the orator. He was very rich, both in respect of the great sums of money he exacted of his scholars, and besides that, having at one time twenty talents of Nicocles, king of Cyprus, for an oration which he dedicated to him. By reason of his riches he became obnoxious to the envy of others, and was three times named to maintain a galley; which he evaded twice by the assistance of his son and a counterfeit sickness, but the third time he undertook it, though the charge proved very great. A father telling him that he had allowed his son no other companion than one slave, Isocrates replied, Go thy way then, for one slave thou shalt have two. He strove for the prize which Aretemisia dedicated to the honor and memory of her husband Mausolus; but that oration is lost. He wrote also another oration in praise of Helen, and one called Areopagiticus. Some say that he died when he had fasted nine days,—some again, at four days’ end,—and his death took its date from the funeral solemnities of those that lost their lives at Chaeronea. His son Aphareus likewise wrote several orations.

He lies buried with all his family near Cynosarges, on the left hand of the hill. There are interred Isocrates and his father Theodorus, his mother and her sister Anaco, his adoptive son Aphareus, Socrates the son of Anaco, Theodorus his brother, bearing his father’s name, his grandsons, the sons of his adopted Aphareus, and his wife Plathane, the mother of Aphareus. On these tombs were erected six tables, which are now demolished. And upon the tomb of Isocrates himself was placed a column thirty cubits high, and on that a mermaid of seven cubits, which was an emblem of his eloquence; there is nothing now extant. There was also near it a table, having poets and his schoolmasters on it; and among the rest, Gorgias inspecting a celestial globe, and Isocrates standing by him. There is likewise a statue of his of bronze in Eleusis, dedicated by Timothy the son of Conon, before the entry of the porch, with this inscription:

To the fame and honor of Isocrates, This statue’s sacred to the Goddesses; The gift of Timothy.

This statue was made by Leochares. There are threescore orations which bear his name; of which, if we credit Dionysius, only five and twenty are genuine; but according to Caecilius, twenty-eight; and the rest are accounted spurious. He was an utter stranger to ostentation, insomuch that, when there came at one time three persons to hear him declaim, he admitted but two of them, desiring the third to come the next day, for that two at once were to him as a full theatre. He used to tell his scholars that he taught his art for ten minas; but he would give any man ten thousand, that could teach him to be bold and give him a good utterance. And being once asked how he, who was not very eloquent himself, could make others so, he answered, Just as a whetstone cannot cut, yet it will sharpen knives for that purpose. Some say that he wrote institutions to the art of oratory; others are of opinion that he had no method of teaching, but only exercise. He would never ask any thing of a free-born citizen. He used to enjoin his scholars being present at public assemblies to repeat to him what was there delivered. He conceived no little sorrow for the death of Socrates, insomuch that the next day he put himself in mourning. Being asked what was the use and force of rhetoric, he answered, To make great matters small, and small great. At a feast with Nicoceon, the tyrant of Cyprus, being desired by some of the company to declaim upon some theme, he made answer, that that was not a season for him to speak what he knew, and he knew nothing that was then seasonable. Happening once to see Sophocles the tragedian amorously eying a comely boy, he said to him, It will become thee, Sophocles, to restrain not only thy hands, but thine eyes. When Ephorus of Cumae left his school before he had arrived at any good proficiency, his father Demophilus sent him again with a second sum of money in his hand; at which Isocrates jocosely called him Diphorus, that is, twice bringing his fee. However, he took a great deal of pains and care with him, and went so far as to put him in the way of writing history.

He was wantonly given; and used to lie upon a ... mat for his bed, and his bolster was commonly made moist with saffron. He never married while he was young; but in his old age he kept a miss, whose name was Lagisce, and by her he had a daughter, who died in the twelfth year of her age, before she was married. He afterwards married Plathane, the wife of Hippias the rhetorician, who had three sons, the youngest of which, Aphareus by name, he adopted for his own, as we said before. This Aphareus erected a bronze statue to him near the temple of Jupiter, as may be seen from the inscription:

In veneration of the mighty Jove, His noble parents, and the Gods above, Aphareus this statue here has set, The statue of Isocrates his father.

He is said to have run a race on a swift horse, when he was but a boy; for he is to be seen in this posture in the Citadel, in the tennis court of the priestesses of Minerva, in a statue. There were but two suits commenced against him in his whole life. One whereof was with Megaclides, who provoked him to exchange of property; at the trial of which he could not be personally present, by reason of sickness; but sending Aphareus, he nevertheless overcame. The other suit was commenced against him by Lysimachus, who would have him come to an exchange or be at the charge of maintaining a galley for the commonwealth. In this case he was overthrown, and forced to perform the service. There was likewise a painting of him in the Pompeum.

Aphareus also wrote a few orations, both judicial and deliberative; as also tragedies to the number of thirty-seven, of which two are contested. He began to make his works public in the year of Lysistratus, and continued it to the year of Sosigenes, that is, eight and twenty years.[14] In these years he exhibited dramas six times at the city Dionysiac festivals, and twice went away with the prize through the actor Dionysius; he also gained two other victories at the Lenaean festival through other actors.

There were to be seen in the Citadel the statues of the mother of Isocrates, of Theodorus, and of Anaco his mother’s sister. That of the mother is placed just by the image of Health, the inscription being changed; that of Anaco is no longer there. [Anaco] had two sons, Alexander by Coenes, and Lysicles by Lysias.

V. ISAEUS.

ISAEUS was born in Chalcis. When he came to Athens, he read Lysias’s works, whom he imitated so well, both in his style and in his skill in managing causes, that he who was not very well acquainted with their manner of writing could not tell which of the two was author of many of their orations. He flourished after the Peloponnesian war, as we may conjecture from his orations, and was in repute till the reign of Philip. He taught Demosthenes—not at his school, but privately—who gave him ten thousand drachms, by which business he became very famous. Some say that he composed orations for Demosthenes, which he pronounced in opposition to his guardians. He left behind him sixty-four orations, of which fifty are his own; as likewise some peculiar institutions of rhetoric. He was the first that used to speak or write figuratively, and that addicted himself to civil matters; which Demosthenes chiefly followed. Theopompus the comedian makes mention of him in his Theseus.

VI. AESCHINES.

HE was the son of Atrometus—who, being banished by the Thirty Tyrants, was thereby a means of reducing the commonwealth to the government of the people—and of his wife Glaucothea; by birth a Cothocidian. He was neither nobly born nor rich; but in his youth, being strong and well set, he addicted himself to all sorts of bodily exercises; and afterwards, having a very clear voice, he took to playing of tragedies, and if we may credit Demosthenes, he was a petty clerk, and also served Aristodemus as a player of third parts at the Bacchanalian festivals, in his times of leisure rehearsing the ancient tragedies. When he was but a boy, he was assisting to his father in teaching little children their letters, and when he was grown up, he listed himself a private soldier. Some think he was brought up under Socrates and Plato; but Caecilius will have it that Leodamas was his master. Being concerned in the affairs of the commonwealth, he openly acted in opposition to Demosthenes and his faction; and was employed in several embassies, and especially in one to Philip, to treat about articles of peace. For which Demosthenes accused him for being the cause of the overthrow and ruin of the Phocians, and the inflamer of war; which part he would have him thought to have acted when the Amphictyons chose him one of their deputies to the Amphissians who were building up the harbor [of Crissa]. On which the Amphictyons put themselves under Philip’s protection, who, being assisted by Aeschines, took the affair in hand and soon conquered all Phocis.[15] But Aeschines, notwithstanding all that Demosthenes could do, being favored by Eubulus the son of Spintharus, a Probalisian, who pleaded in his behalf, carried his cause by thirty voices, and so was cleared. Though some tell us, that there were orations prepared by the orators, but the news of the conquest of Chaeronea put a stop to the present proceedings, and so the suit fell.

Some time after this, Philip being dead, and his son Alexander marching into Asia, Aeschines impeached Ctesiphon for acting against the laws, in passing a decree in favor of Demosthenes. But he having not the fifth part of the voices of the judges on his side, was forced to go in exile to Rhodes, because he would not pay his mulct of a thousand drachms. Others say, that he incurred disfranchisement also, because he would not depart the city, and that he went to Alexander at Ephesus. But upon the death of Alexander, when a tumult had been excited, he went to Rhodes, and there opened a school and taught. And on a time pronouncing the oration which he had formerly made against Ctesiphon, to pleasure the Rhodians, he did it with that grace, that they wondered how he could fail of carrying his cause if he pleaded so well for himself. But ye would not wonder, said he, that I was overthrown, if ye had heard Demosthenes pleading against me. He left a school behind him at Rhodes, which was afterwards called the Rhodian school. Thence he sailed to Samos, and there in a short time died. He had a very good voice, as both Demosthenes and Demochares testified of him.

Four orations bear his name, one of which was against Timarchus, another concerning false embassage, and a third against Ctesiphon, which three are really his own; but the fourth, called Deliaca, is none of his; for though he was named to plead the cause of the temple at Delos, yet Demosthenes tells us that Hyperides was chosen in his stead.[16] He says himself, that he had two brothers, Aphobetus and Philochares. He was the first that brought the Athenians the news of the victory obtained at Tamynae, for which he was crowned for the second time. Some report that Aeschines was never any man’s scholar, but having passed his time chiefly in courts of justice, he raised himself from the office of clerk to that of orator. His first public appearance was in a speech against Philip; with which the people being pleased, he was immediately chosen to go ambassador to the Arcadians; and being come thither, he excited the Ten Thousand against Philip. He indicted Timarchus for profligacy; who, fearing the issue, deserted his cause and hanged himself, as Demosthenes somewhere informs us. Being employed with Ctesiphon and Demosthenes in an embassage to Philip to treat of peace, he appeared the most accomplished of the three. Another time also he was one of ten men sent in embassage to conclude a peace; and being afterwards called to answer for it, he was acquitted, as we said.

VII. LYCURGUS.

LYCURGUS was the son of Lycophron, and grandson of that Lycurgus whom the Thirty Tyrants put to death, by the procurement of Aristodemus the Batesian, who, also being treasurer of the Greeks, was banished in the time of the popular government. He was a Butadian by birth, and of the line or family of the Eteobutades. He received his first institutions of philosophy from Plato the philosopher. But afterward entering himself a scholar to Isocrates the orator, he employed his study about affairs of the commonwealth. And to his care was committed the disposal and management of the city stock, and so he executed the office of treasurer-general for the space of twelve years; in which time there went through his hands fourteen thousand talents, or (as some will have it) eighteen thousand six hundred and fifty. It was the orator Stratocles that procured him this preferment. At first he was chosen in his own name; but afterwards he nominated one of his friends to the office, while he himself performed the duties; for there was a law just passed, that no man should be chosen treasurer for above the term of four years. But Lycurgus plied his business closely, both summer and winter, in the administration of public affairs. And being entrusted to make provision of all necessaries for the wars, he reformed many abuses that were crept into the commonwealth. He built four hundred galleys for the use of the public, and prepared and fitted a place for public exercises in Lyceum, and planted trees before it; he likewise built a wrestling-court, and being made surveyor of the theatre of Bacchus, he finished this building. He was likewise of so great repute among all sorts, that he was entrusted with two hundred and fifty talents of private citizens. He adorned and beautified the city with gold and silver vessels of state, and golden images of victory. He likewise finished many things that were as yet imperfect, as the dock-yards and the arsenal. He built a wall also about the spacious Panathenaic race-course, and made level a piece of uneven ground, given by one Dinias to Lycurgus for the use of the city. The keeping of the city was committed wholly to his care, and power to apprehend malefactors, of whom he cleared the city utterly; so that some sophisters were wont to say, that Lycurgus did not dip his pen in ink, but in blood. And therefore it was, that when Alexander demanded him of the people, they would not deliver him up. When Philip made the second war upon the Athenians, he was employed with Demosthenes and Polyeuctus in an embassy to Peloponnesus and other cities. He was always in great repute and esteem with the Athenians, and looked upon as a man of that justice and integrity, that in the courts of judicature his good word was at all times prevalent on the behalf of those persons for whom he undertook to speak. He was the author of several laws; one of which was, that there should be certain comedies played at the Chytrian solemnities, and whoever of the poets or players should come off victor, he should thereby be invested with the freedom of the city, which before was not lawful; and so he revived a solemnity which for want of encouragement had for some time before been out of request. Another of his laws was, that the city should erect statues to the memory of Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides; and that their tragedies, being fairly engrossed, should be preserved in the public consistory, and that the public clerks should read these copies as the plays were acted, that nothing might be changed by the players; and that otherwise it should be unlawful to act them. A third law proposed by him was, that no Athenian, nor any person inhabiting in Athens, should be permitted to buy a captive, who was once free, to be a slave, without the consent of his former master. Further, that in the Piraeus there should be at least three circular dances played to Neptune; and that to the victor in the first should be given not less than ten minas; in the second, eight; in the third, six. Also, that no woman should go to Eleusis in a coach, lest the poor should appear more despicable than the rich, and so be dejected and cast down; and that whoever should ride in a coach contrary to this law should be fined six thousand drachms. And when even his own wife was taken in the violation of it, he paid to the discoverers of it a whole talent; for which being afterwards called in question by the people: See therefore, said he, I am called to answer for giving, and not for receiving money.

As he was walking one day in the streets, he saw an officer lay hand on Xenocrates the philosopher; and when nothing would serve his turn but the philosopher must to prison, because he had not deposited the tribute due from strangers, he with his staff struck the officer on the head for his unmannerly roughness toward a person of that character, and freeing Xenocrates, cast the other into prison in his stead. And not many days after, Xenocrates meeting with the children of Lycurgus said: I have returned thanks unto your father right speedily, my good children, for his friendship towards me, for I hear his kindness commended by all people where I go. He made likewise several decrees, in which he made use of the help of an Olynthian named Euclides, one very expert in such matters. Though he was rich enough, yet he was used to wear the same coat every day, both summer and winter; but he wore shoes only when he was compelled to do it. Because he was not ready to speak extempore, he used to practise and study day and night. And to the end he might not at any time oversleep himself and so lose time from his study, he used to cover himself on his bed only with a sheepskin with the wool on, and to lay a hard bolster under his head. When one reproached him for being in fee with rhetoricians when he studied his orations, he answered, that, if a man would promise to restore his sons better, he would give him not only a thousand drachms, but half what he was worth. He took the liberty of speaking boldly upon all occasions, by reason of his greatness; as when once the Athenians interrupted him in his speaking, he cried out, O thou Corcyraean whip, how many talents art thou worth? And another time, when some would rank Alexander among the Gods, What manner of God, said he, must he be, when all that go out of his temple had need to be dipped in water to purify themselves?

After his death Menesaechmus accusing and indicting them by virtue of an instrument drawn by Thracycles, his sons were delivered to the eleven executioners of Justice. But Demosthenes, being in exile, wrote to the Athenians, to let them know that they were wrongfully accused, and that therefore they did not well to hear their accusers; upon which they recanted what they had done, and set them at liberty again,—Democles, who was Theophrastus’s scholar, likewise pleading in their defence. Lycurgus and some of his posterity were buried publicly, at or near the temple of Minerva Paeonia, where their monuments stand in the garden of Melanthius the philosopher, on which are inscriptions to Lycurgus and his children, which are yet extant. The greatest thing he did while he lived was his raising the revenue of the commons totally from sixty talents, as he found it, to twelve hundred. When he found he must die, he was by his own appointment carried into the temple of the Mother of the Gods, and into the senate-house, being willing before his death to give an account of his administration. And no man daring to accuse him of any thing except Menesaechmus, having purged himself from those calumnies which he cast upon him, he was carried home again, where in a short time he ended his life. He was always accounted honest; his orations were commended for the eloquence they carried in them; and though he was often accused, yet he never was overthrown in any suit.

He had three children by Callisto, the daughter of Abron, and sister of Callias, Abron’s son, by descent a Batesian,—I mean, of him who, when Chaerondas was magistrate, was paymaster to the army. Of this affinity Dinarchus speaks in his oration against Pastius. He left behind him three sons, Abron, Lycurgus, and Lycophron; of which, Abron and Lycurgus died without issue, though the first, Abron, did for some time act very acceptably and worthily in affairs of the commonwealth. Lycophron, marrying Callistomacha, the daughter of Philip of Aexone, begat Callisto, who married Cleombrotus the son of Dinocrates the Acharnian, to whom she bare Lycophron, who, being adopted by his grandfather, died without issue. He being dead, Socrates married Callisto, of whom he had his son Symmachus. To him was born Aristonymus; to Aristonymus, Charmides, who was the father of Philippe. Of her and Lysander came Medeius, who also was an interpreter, one of the Eumolpids. He begat two children of Timothea, the daughter of Glaucus, viz. Laodamia and Medius, who were priests of Neptune Erechtheus; also Philippe a daughter, who was afterward priestess of Minerva; for before, she was married to Diocles of Melite, to whom she bare a son named Diocles, who was a colonel of a regiment of foot. He married Hediste, the daughter of Abron, and of her begat Philippides and Nicostrata, whom Themistocles the torch-bearer, son of Theophrastus, married, and by her had Theophrastus and Diocles; and he likewise constituted the priesthood of Neptune Erechtheus.

It is said that he penned fifteen orations. He was often crowned by the people, and had statues dedicated to him. His image in brass was set up in Ceramicus by order of the public, in the year of Anaxicrates; in whose time also it was ordered that he and his eldest son should be provided for with diet in the Prytaneum; but he being dead, Lycophron his eldest son was forced to sue for that donation. This Lycurgus also was used frequently to plead on the account of sacred things; and accused Autolycus the Areopagite, Lysicles the general, Demades the son of Demeas, Menesaechmus, and many others, all whom he caused to be condemned as guilty. Diphilus also was called in question by him, for impairing and diminishing the props of the metal mines, and unjustly making himself rich therefrom; and he caused him to be condemned to die, according to the provision made by the laws in that case. He gave out of his own stock fifty drachms to every citizen, the sum total of which donation amounted to one hundred and sixty talents;[17] but some say he gave a mina of silver to each. He likewise accused Aristogiton, Leocrates, and Autolycus for cowardice. He was called the Ibis:...

The ibis to Lycurgus, to Chaerephon the bat.[18]

His ancestors derived their pedigree from Erechtheus, the son of the Earth and of Vulcan; but he was nearest to Lycomedes and Lycurgus, whom the people honored with public solemnities. There is a succession of those of the race who were priests of Neptune, in a complete table placed in the Erechtheum, painted by Ismenias the Chalcidian; in the same place stood wooden images of Lycurgus, and of his sons, Abron, Lycurgus, and Lycophron; made by Timarchus and Cephisodotus, the sons of Praxiteles. His son Abron dedicated the table; and coming to the priesthood by right of succession, he resigned to his brother Lycophron, and hence he is painted as giving a trident. But Lycurgus had made a draught of all his actions, and hung it on a column before the wrestling-court built by himself, that all might read that would; and no man could accuse him of any peculation. He likewise proposed to the people to crown Neoptolemus, the son of Anticles, and to dedicate statues to him, because he had promised and undertaken to cover the altar of Apollo in the market with gold, according to the order of the oracle. He decreed honors likewise to Diotimus, the son of Diopithes of Euonymus, in the year when Ctesicles was magistrate.

VIII. DEMOSTHENES.

DEMOSTHENES, the son of Demosthenes by Cleobule, the daughter of Gylon, was a Paeanian by descent. He was left an orphan by his father, when he was but seven years old, together with a sister of the age of five. Being kept by his mother during his nonage, he went to school to Isocrates, say some; but the generality are of opinion that he was pupil to Isaeus the Chalcidian, who lived in Athens and was Isocrates’s scholar. He imitated Thucydides and Plato, and some affirm that he more especially attended the school of Plato. Hegesias the Magnesian writes, that he entreated his master’s leave to go to hear Callistratus the son of Empaedus, an Amphidnean, a noble orator, and sometime commander of a troop of horse, who had dedicated an altar to Mercury Agoraeos, and was to make an oration to the people. And when he heard him, he became a lover of oratory, and so long as he continued at Athens, remained his disciple.

But Callistratus being soon banished to Thrace, and Demosthenes arrived at some years of maturity, he joined with Isocrates and Plato. After this, he took Isaeus into his house, and for the space of four years labored very hard in imitation of his orations. Though Ctesibius in his book of philosophy affirms that, by the help of Callias the Syracusan, he got the orations of Zoilus the Amphipolite, and by the assistance of Charicles the Carystian those also of Alcidamas, and devoted himself to the imitation of them. When he came to age, in the year of Timocrates[19] he called his tutors and guardians to account for their maladministration, in not allowing him what was fitting and requisite out of his estate. And these tutors or guardians were three, Aphobus, Therippides, and Demophon (or Demeas), the last of whom, being his uncle, he charged more severely than the other two. He arrested each of them in an action of ten talents, and cast them, but did not exact of them what the law had given him, releasing some for money and others for favor.

When Aristophon, by reason of his age, could not hold the office any longer, he was chosen choregus, or overseer of the dances. During the execution of which office, Midias the Anagyrasian striking him as he was ordering the dances in the theatre, he sued him upon it, but let fall his suit upon Midias’s paying him three thousand drachms.

It is reported of him that, while he was a youth, he confined himself to a den or cave, and there studied his orations, and shaved half of his head that he might not be allured to divert himself from it; and that he lay upon a very narrow bed, that he might awake and rise the sooner. And for that he could not very well pronounce the letter R, he accustomed himself very much to that, that he might master it if possible; and using likewise an unseemly motion of his shoulder when he spake at any time, he remedied that by a spit (or, as some say, a sword) stuck in the ceiling just over his shoulder, that the fear of being pricked with it might break him of that indecent gesture. They report of him further that, when he could declaim pretty well, he had a sort of mirror made as big as himself, and used always in declaiming to look in that, to the end that he might see and correct what was amiss. He used likewise at some certain times to go down to the Phalerian shore, to the end that, being accustomed to the surges and noise of the waves, he might not be daunted by the clamors of the people, when he should at any time declaim in public. And being naturally short-winded, he gave Neoptolemus a player ten thousand drachms to teach him to pronounce long sentences in one breath.

Afterwards, betaking himself to the affairs of the commonwealth, and finding the people divided into two different factions, one in favor of Philip, and the other standing for the liberty and properties of the people, he took part with them that opposed Philip, and always persuaded the citizens to help those who were in danger and trouble by Philip’s oppression; taking for his companions in council Hyperides, Nausicles, Polyeuctus, and Diotimus; and then he drew the Thebans, Euboeans, Corcyraeans, Corinthians, Boeotians, and many more into a league with the Athenians. Being in the assembly one day and his memory failing him, his oration was hissed; which made him return home very heavy and melancholy; and being met by Eunomus the Thriasian, an old man, by him he was comforted and encouraged. But he was chiefly animated by Andronicus the player, who told him that his orations were excellent, but that he wanted something of action, thereupon rehearsing certain places out of his oration which he had delivered in that same assembly. Unto which Demosthenes gave good ear and credit, and he then betook himself to Andronicus. And therefore, when he was afterwards asked what was the first part of oratory, he answered, “Action;” and which was the second, he replied, “Action;” and which was the third, he still answered, “Action.” Another time, declaiming publicly, and using expressions too youthful for one of his years and gravity, he was laughed at, and ridiculed by the comedians, Antiphanes and Timocles, who in derision used to repeat such phrases as these, as uttered by him:

By the earth, by the fountains, by the rivers, by the floods!

For having sworn thus in presence of the people, he raised a tumult about him. He likewise used to swear by Asclepius, and accented the second syllable (Ἀσκλήπιος)[20] through some mistake, and yet afterwards defended it; for this Asclepius, he said, was called ἤπιος, that is a mild God. This also often caused him to be interrupted. But all these things he reformed in time, being sometime conversant with Eubulides, the Milesian philosopher. Being on a time present at the Olympic games, and hearing Lamachus the Myrrhinaean sound the praises of Philip and of Alexander the Great, his son, and decry the cowardice of the Thebans and Olynthians, he stood up in their defence against him, and from the ancient poets he proclaimed the great and noble achievements of the Thebans and Olynthians; and so elegantly he behaved himself in this affair, that he at once silenced Lamachus, and made him convey himself immediately out of the assembly. And even Philip himself, when he had heard what harangues he made against him, replied, that if he had heard him, he should have chosen him general in the war against himself. He was used to compare Demosthenes’s orations to soldiers, for the force they carried along with them; but the orations of Isocrates to fencers, because of the theatrical delight that accompanied them.

Being about the age of seven and thirty, reckoning from Dexitheus to Callimachus,[21]—in whose time the Olynthians sent to beg aid of the Athenians against Philip, who then made war upon them,—he persuaded them to answer the Olynthians’ request; but in the following year, in which Plato died,[22] Philip overthrew and destroyed the Olynthians. Xenophon also, the scholar of Socrates, had some knowledge of Demosthenes, either at his first rise, or at least when he was most famous and flourishing; for he wrote the Acts of the Greeks, as touching what passed at the battle of Mantinea, in the year of Chariclides;[23] our Demosthenes having sometime before overthrown his guardians in a suit he had commenced against them, in the year of Timocrates. When Aeschines, being condemned, fled from Athens, Demosthenes hearing of it took horse and rode after him; which Aeschines understanding, and fearing to be apprehended again, he came out to meet Demosthenes, and fell at his feet, covered his face, and begged his mercy; upon which Demosthenes bid him stand up, be assured of his favor, and as a pledge of it, gave him a talent of silver. He advised the people to maintain a company of mercenary soldiers in Thasos, and thither sailed himself as captain of the galleys. Another time, being entrusted to buy corn, he was accused of defrauding the city, but cleared himself of the accusation and was acquitted. When Philip had seized upon Elatea, Demosthenes with others went to the war of Chaeronea, where he is said to have deserted his colors; and flying away, a bramble caught hold of his vest behind, when turning about in haste, thinking an enemy had overtaken him, he cried out, Save my life, and say what shall be my ransom. On his buckler he had engraven for his motto, To Good Fortune. And it was he that made the oration at the funerals of such as died in that battle.

After these things, he bent his whole care and study for the reparation of the city and wall; and being chosen commissary for repairing the walls, besides what money he expended out the city stock, he laid out of his own at least a hundred minas. And besides this, he gave ten thousand drachms to the festival fund; and taking ship, he sailed from coast to coast to collect money of the allies; for which he was often by Demotelus, Aristonicus, and Hyperides crowned with golden crowns, and afterwards by Ctesiphon. Which last decree had like to have been retracted, Diodotus and Aeschines endeavoring to prove it to be contrary to the laws; but he defended himself so well against their allegations, that he overcame all difficulties, his enemies not having the fifth part of the votes of the judges.

After this, when Alexander the Great made his expedition into Asia, and Harpalus fled to Athens with a great sum of money, at first he would not let him be entertained, but afterwards, Harpalus being landed and having given him a thousand darics he was of another mind; and when the Athenians determined to deliver Harpalus up to Antipater, he opposed it, proposing to deposit the money in the Citadel, still without declaring the amount to the people. Thereupon Harpalus declared that he had brought with him from Asia seven hundred talents, and that this sum had been deposited in the Citadel; but only three hundred and fifty or a little more could be found, as Philochorus relates. But when Harpalus broke out of the prison wherein he was kept till some person should come from Alexander, and was escaped into Crete,—or, as some will have it, into Taenarum in Laconia,—Demosthenes was accused that he had received from him a sum of money, and that therefore he had not given a true account of the sum delivered to him, nor had impeached the negligence of the keepers. So he was judicially cited by Hyperides, Pytheus, Menesaechmus, Himeraeus, and Patrocles, who prosecuted him so severely as to cause him to be condemned in the court of Areopagus; and being condemned, he went into exile, not being able to pay fivefold; for he was accused of receiving thirty talents. Others say, that he would not run the risk of a trial, but went into banishment before the day came. After this tempest was over, when the Athenians sent Polyeuctus to the republic of Arcadia to draw them off from the alliance with the Macedonians, he not succeeding, Demosthenes appeared to second him, where he reasoned so effectually that he easily prevailed. Which procured him so much credit and esteem, that after some time a galley was dispatched to call him home again. And the Athenians decreed that, whereas he owed the state thirty talents, as a fine laid on him for the misdemeanor he was accused of, he should be excused for only building an altar to Jupiter Servator in the Piraeus; which decree was first proposed by Demon his near kinsman. This being agreed on, he returned to the administration of affairs in the commonwealth again.

But when Antipater was blocked up in Lamia, and the Athenians offered sacrifices for the happy news, he happened, being talking with Agesistratus, one of his intimate friends, to say, that his judgment concerning the state of affairs did not jump with other men’s, for that he knew the Greeks were brisk and ready enough to run a short course but not to hold on a long race. When Antipater had taken Pharsalus, and threatened to besiege Athens itself if they refused to deliver up such orators as had declaimed against him, Demosthenes, suspecting himself to be one of the number, left the city, and fled first into Aegina, that he might take sanctuary in the temple of Aeacus; but being afraid to trust himself long there, he went over to Calauria; and when the Athenians had decreed to deliver up those orators, and him especially as one of them, he continued a suppliant in the temple of Neptune. When Archias came thither,—who, from his office of pursuing fugitives, was called Phygadotheres and was the scholar of Anaximines the orator,—when he, I say, came to him, and persuaded him to go with him, telling him that no doubt he should be received by Antipater as a friend, he replied: When you played a part in a tragedy, you could not persuade me to believe you the person you represented; no more shall you now persuade me by your counsel. And when Archias endeavored to force him thence, the townsmen would not suffer it. And Demosthenes told them, that he did not flee to Calauria to save his life, but that he might convince the Macedonians of their violence committed even against the Gods themselves. And with that he called for a writing-table; and if we may credit Demetrius the Magnesian, on that he wrote a distich, which afterwards the Athenians caused to be affixed to his statue; and it was to this purpose:—

Hadst thou, Demosthenes, an outward force Great as thy inward magnanimity. Greece should not wear the Macedonian yoke.

This statue, made by Polyeuctus, is placed near the cloister where the altar of the twelve Gods is erected. Some say this writing was found: “Demosthenes to Antipater, Greeting.” Philochorus tells us that he died by drinking of poison; and Satyrus the historiographer will have it, that the pen was poisoned with which he wrote his epistle, and putting it into his mouth, soon after he tasted it he died. Eratosthenes is of another opinion, that being in continual fear of the Macedonians, he wore a poisoned bracelet on his arms. Others say again, that he died with holding his breath; and others, lastly, say that he carried strong poison in his signet. He lived to the age of seventy, according to those who give the highest number,—of sixty-seven, according to other statements. And he was in public life two and twenty years.

When King Philip was dead, he appeared publicly in a glorious robe or mantle, as rejoicing for his death, though he but just before mourned for his daughter. He assisted the Thebans likewise against Alexander, and animated all the other Greeks. So that when Alexander had conquered Thebes, he demanded Demosthenes of the Athenians, threatening them if they refused to deliver him. When he went against Persia, demanding ships of the Athenians, Demosthenes opposed it, saying, who can assure us that he will not use those ships we should send him against ourselves?

He left behind him two sons by one wife, the daughter of one Heliodorus, a principal citizen. He had but one daughter, who died unmarried, being but a child. A sister too he had, who married with Laches of Leuconoe, his kinsman, and to him bore Demochares, who proved inferior to none in his time for eloquence, conduct, and courage. His statue is still standing in the Prytaneum, the first on the right as you approach the altar, clothed with a mantle and girt with a sword, because in this habit he delivered an oration to the people, when Antipater demanded of them their orators.

Afterwards, in process of time, the Athenians decreed nourishment to be given to the kindred of Demosthenes in the Prytaneum, and likewise set up a statue to his memory, when he was dead, in the market, in the year of Gorgias,[24] which honors were paid him at the request of Demochares his sister’s son. And ten years after, Laches, the son of Demochares of Leuconoe, in the year of Pytharatus, required the same honor for himself, that his statue should be set up in the market, and that both he and the eldest of his line for the future should have their allowance in the Prytaneum, and the highest room at all public shows. These decrees concerning both of them are engrossed, and to be found among the statute laws. The statue of Demochares, of which we have spoken before, was afterwards removed out of the market into the Prytaneum.

There are extant sixty-five orations which are truly his. Some report of him, that he lived a very dissolute and vicious life, appearing often in women’s apparel, and being frequently conversant at masks and revellings, whence he was surnamed Batalus; though others say, that this was a pet name given him by his nurse, and that from this he was called Batalus in derision. Diogenes the Cynic espying him one day in a victualling-house, he was very much ashamed, and to shun him, went to withdraw; but Diogenes called after him, and told him, The more you shrink inward, the more you will be in the tavern. The same Diogenes once upon the banter said of him, that in his orations he was a Scythian, but in war a delicate nice citizen. He was one of them who received gold of Ephialtes, one of the popular orators, who, being sent in an embassy to the king of Persia, took money privily, and distributed it among the orators of Athens, that they might use their utmost endeavors to kindle and inflame the war against Philip; and it is said of Demosthenes, that he for his part had at once three thousand darics of the king. He apprehended one Anaxilas of Oreus, who had been his friend, and caused him to be tortured for a spy; and when he would confess nothing, he procured a decree that he should be delivered to the eleven executioners.

When once at a meeting of the Athenians they would not suffer him to speak, he told them he had but a short story to tell them. Upon which all being silent, thus he began: A certain youth, said he, hired an ass in summer time, to go from hence to Megara. About noon, when the sun was very hot, and both he that hired the ass and the owner were desirous of sitting in the shade of the ass, they each thrust the other away,—the owner arguing that he let him only his ass and not the shadow, and the other replying that, since he had hired the ass, all that belonged to him was at his dispose. Having said thus, he seemed to go his way. But the Athenians willing now to hear his story out, called him back, and desired him to proceed. To whom he replied: How comes it to pass that ye are so desirous of hearing a story of the shadow of an ass, and refuse to give ear to matters of greater moment? Polus the player boasting to him that he had gotten a whole talent by playing but two days, he answered, and I have gotten five talents by being silent but one day. One day his voice failing him when he was declaiming publicly, being hissed, he cried out to the people, saying, Ye are to judge of players, indeed, by their voice, but of orators by the gravity of their sentences.

Epicles upbraiding him for his premeditating what he was to say, he replied, I should be ashamed to speak what comes uppermost to so great an assembly. They say of him that he never put out his lamp—that is, never ceased polishing his orations—until he was fifty years old. He says of himself, that he drank always fair water. Lysias the orator was acquainted with him; and Isocrates knew him concerned in the management of public affairs till the battle of Chaeronea; as also some of the Socratical sect. [He delivered most of his orations extempore, Nature having well qualified him for it.][25] The first that proposed the crowning him with a coronet of gold was Aristonicus, the son of Nicophanes, the Anagyrasian; though Diondas interposed with an indictment.

IX. HYPERIDES.

HYPERIDES was son of Glaucippus, and grandson of Dionysius, of the borough of Colyttus. He had a son, who bare the same name with his father Glaucippus, an orator, who wrote many orations, and begat a son named Alphinous. At the same time with Lycurgus, he had been a scholar of the philosopher Plato and of the orator Isocrates. In Athens his concern in the commonwealth was at that time when Alexander accosted Greece, whom he vigorously opposed in his demands made of the Athenians for the generals as well as for galleys. He advised the people not to discharge the garrison of Taenarum, and this he did for the sake of a friend of his, Chares, who was commander of it. At first he used to plead causes for a fee. He was suspected to have received part of the money which Ephialtes brought out of Persia, and was chosen to maintain a galley, and was sent to assist the Byzantines, when Philip was besieging their city. Nevertheless, in the same year he took the charge of defraying the expense of the solemn dances, whereas the rest of the captains were exempt from all such public burdens for that year. He obtained a decree for some honors to be paid to Demosthenes; and when that decree was indicted at the instance of Diondas, as being contrary to the laws, he, being called in question upon it, cleared himself. He did not continue his friendship with Demosthenes, Lysicles, and Lycurgus to the last; for, Lysicles and Lycurgus being dead, and Demosthenes being accused of having received money of Harpalus, he, among all the rest, was pitched upon, as the only person who was not corrupted with bribery, to draw up his indictment, which he accordingly did. Being once accused at the instance of Aristogiton of publishing acts contrary to the laws after the battle of Chaeronea,—that all foreign inhabitants of Athens should be accounted citizens, that slaves should be made free, that all sacred things, children, and women should be confined to the Piraeus,—he cleared himself of all and was acquitted. And being blamed by some, who wondered how he could be ignorant of the many laws that were directly repugnant to those decrees, he answered, that the arms of the Macedonians darkened his sight, and it was not he but the battle of Chaeronea that made that decree. But Philip, being affrighted at somewhat, gave leave to carry away their dead out of the field, which before he had denied to the heralds from Lebadea.

After this, at the overthrow at Crannon, being demanded by Antipater, and the people being resolved to deliver him up, he fled out of the city with others who were under the same condemnation to Aegina; where meeting with Demosthenes, he excused himself for the breach of friendship between them. Going from thence, he was apprehended by Archias, surnamed Phygadotheres, by country a Thurian, formerly a player, but at that time in the service of Antipater; by this man, I say, he was apprehended, even in the very temple of Neptune, though he grasped the image of that God in his arms. He was brought before Antipater, who was then at Corinth; where being put upon the rack, he bit out his tongue, because he would not divulge the secrets of his country, and so died, on the ninth day of October. Hermippus tells us that, as he went into Macedonia, his tongue was cut out and his body cast forth unburied; but Alphinous his cousin-german (or, according to the opinion of others, his grandson, by his son Glaucippus) obtained leave, by means of one Philopithes a physician, to take up his body, which he burnt, and carried the ashes to Athens to his kinsfolk there, contrary to the edicts both of the Athenians and Macedonians, which not only banished them, but likewise forbade the burial of them anywhere in their own country. Others say, that he was carried to Cleonae with others, and there died, having his tongue cut out, as above; however, his relations and friends took his bones, when his body was burned, and buried them among his ancestors before the gate Hippades, as Heliodorus gives us the relation in his Third Book of Monuments. His monument is now altogether unknown and lost, being thrown down with age and long standing.

He is said to have excelled all others in his way of delivering himself in his orations to the people. And there are some who prefer him even to Demosthenes himself. There are seventy-seven orations which bear his name, of which only two and fifty are genuine and truly his. He was much given to venery, insomuch that he turned his son out of doors, to entertain that famous courtesan Myrrhina. In Piraeus he had another, whose name was Aristagora; and at Eleusis, where part of his estate lay, he kept another, one Philte a Theban, whom he ransomed for twenty minas. His usual walk was in the fish-market. It is thought that he was accused of impiety with one Phryne, a courtesan likewise, and so was sought after to be apprehended, as he himself seems to intimate in the beginning of an oration; and it is said, that when sentence was just ready to be passed upon her, he produced her in court, opened her clothes before, and discovered her naked breasts, which were so very white, that for her beauty’s sake the judges acquitted her. He at leisure times drew up several declamations against Demosthenes, which were thus discovered: Hyperides being sick, Demosthenes came one day to visit him, and caught him with a book in his hand written against him; at which seeming somewhat displeased, Hyperides told him: This book shall hurt no man that is my friend; but as a curb, it may serve to restrain my enemy from offering me any injury. He obtained a decree of some honors to be paid to Iolas, who gave the poisoned cup to Alexander. He joined with Leosthenes in the Lamian war, and made an admirable oration at the funerals of those who lost their lives therein.

When Philip was prepared to embark for Euboea, and the Athenians heard the news of it with no little consternation, Hyperides in a very short time, by the voluntary contributions of the citizens, fitted out forty sail, and was the first that set an example, by sending out two galleys, one for himself and another for his son, at his own charge.

When there was a controversy between the Delians and the Athenians, who should have the pre-eminence in the temple at Delos; Aeschines being chosen on the behalf of the Athenians for their advocate, the Areopagites refused to ratify the choice and elected Hyperides; and his oration is yet extant, and bears the name of the Deliac oration.[26]

He likewise went ambassador to Rhodes; where meeting other ambassadors from Antipater, who commended their master very highly for his goodness and virtue. We know, replied he, that Antipater is good, but we have no need of a good master at present.

It is said of him, that he never affected much action in his orations to the people, his chief aim being to lay down the matter plainly, and make the case as obvious to the judges as he could.

He was sent likewise to the Eleans, to plead the cause of Callippus the fencer, who was accused of carrying away the prize at the public games unfairly; in which cause he got the better. But when he opposed the sentence of paying honors to Phocion, obtained by Midias the son of Midias the Anagyrasian, he was in that cause overthrown. This cause was pleaded on the twenty-fourth day of May, in the year when Xenius was magistrate.

X. DINARCHUS.

DINARCHUS, the son of Socrates or Sostratus,—born, as some think, at Athens, but according to others, at Corinth,—came to Athens very young, and there took up his dwelling, at that time when Alexander made his expedition into Asia. He used to hear Theophrastus, who succeeded Aristotle in his school. He was frequently conversant with Demetrius the Phalerian too. He betook himself more especially to the affairs of the commonwealth after the death of Antipater, when some of the orators were killed and others banished. Having contracted friendship with Cassander, he became in a short time vastly rich, by exacting great rates for his orations of those for whom he wrote them. He opposed himself to the greatest and most noble orators of his time, not by being overforward to declaim publicly,—for his faculty did not lie that way,—but by composing orations for their adversaries. And when Harpalus had broken out of prison, he wrote several orations, which he gave to their accusers to pronounce against those that were suspected to have taken bribes of him.

Some time after, being accused of a conspiracy with Antipater and Cassander about the matter of Munychia, when it was surprised by Antigonus and Demetrius, who put a garrison into it, in the year of Anaxicrates,[27] he turned the greatest part of his estate into money, and fled to Chalcis, where he lived in exile about fifteen years, and increased his stock; but afterwards, by the mediation of Theophrastus, he and some other banished persons returned to Athens. Then he took up his abode in the house of one Proxenus, his intimate friend; where, being very aged and withal dim-sighted, he lost his gold. And because Proxenus refused to make inquiry after the thief, he apprehended him; and this was the first time that ever he appeared in court. That oration against Proxenus is extant; and there are sixty-four that bear his name, whereof some are believed to be Aristogiton’s. He imitated Hyperides; or, as some incline to judge, rather Demosthenes, because of that vigor and force to move the affections, and the rhetorical ornaments that are evident in his style.

DECREES PROPOSED TO THE ATHENIANS.

I.

DEMOCHARES, the son of Laches of Leuconoe, requires that a statue of brass be set up for Demosthenes, the son of Demosthenes the Paeanian, in the market-place, as likewise that provision of diet be made in the Prytaneum for himself and the eldest of his progeny successively, and the chief seat in all public shows; for that he had done many good offices for the Athenians, had on most occasions been a good counsellor, and had spent his patrimony in the commonwealth; had expended eight talents for the fitting out and maintenance of one galley, when they delivered Euboea, another, when Cephisodorus sailed into the Hellespont, and a third, when Chares and Phocion were commissioned by the people to go captains to Byzantium; that he at his own charge had redeemed many who had been taken prisoners by Philip at Pydna, Methone, and Olynthus; that himself had maintained a choir of men, when no provision had been made therefor through the neglect of the tribe Pandionis; that he had furnished many indigent citizens with arms; that being chosen by the people to oversee the city works, he had laid out three talents of his own stock towards the repairing of the walls, besides all that he gave for making two trenches about the Piraeus; that after the battle of Chaeronea he deposited one talent for the use of the public, and after that, another to buy corn in time of scarcity and want; that by his beneficence, wholesome counsels and effectual persuasions, he allured the Thebans, Euboeans, Corinthians, Megarians, Achaeans, Locrians, Byzantines, and Messenians to a league with the Athenians; that he raised an army of ten thousand foot and a thousand horse, and contracted plenty to the people and their allies; that being ambassador, he had persuaded the allies to the contribution of above five hundred talents; that in the same quality, by his influence and the free gift of money, he obtained of the Peloponnesians that they should not send aid to Alexander against the Thebans; and in consideration of many other good offices performed by him, either as to his counsels, or his personal administration of affairs in the commonwealth, in which, and in defending the rights and liberties of the people, no man in his time had done more or deserved better; and in regard of his sufferings when the commonwealth was ruined, being banished by the insolence of the oligarchy, and at last dying at Calauria for his good-will to the public, there being soldiers sent from Antipater to apprehend him; and that notwithstanding his being in the hands of his enemies, in so great and imminent danger, his hearty affection to his countrymen was still the same, insomuch that he never to the last offered any unworthy thing to the injury of his people.

II.

IN the magistracy of Pytharatus,[28] Laches, the son of Demochares of Leuconoe requires of the Athenian senate that a statue of brass be set up for Demochares, the son of Laches of Leuconoe, in the market-place, and table and diet in the Prytaneum for himself and the eldest of his progeny successively, and the first seat at all public shows; for that he had always been a benefactor and good counsellor to the people, and had done these and the like good offices to the public: he had gone in embassies in his own person; had proposed and carried in bills relating to his embassage; had been chief manager of public matters; had repaired the walls, prepared arms and machines; had fortified the city in the time of the four years’ war, and composed a peace, truce, and alliance with the Boeotians; for which things he was banished by those who overturned and usurped the government;—and being called home again by a decree of the people, in the year of Diocles, he had contracted the administration, sparing the public funds; and going in embassage to Lysimachus, he had at one time gained thirty, and at another time a hundred talents of silver, for the use of the public; he had moved the people to send an embassage to Ptolemy, by which means the people got fifty talents; he went ambassador to Antipater, and by that got twenty talents, and brought it to Eleusis to the people,—all which measures he persuaded the people to adopt while he himself carried them out; furthermore, he was banished for his love for the commonwealth, and would never take part with usurpers against the popular government; neither did he, after the overthrow of that government, bear any public office in the state; he was the only man, of all that had to do in the public administration of affairs in his time, who never promoted or consented to any other form of government but the popular; by his prudence and conduct, all the judgments and decrees, the laws, courts, and all things else belonging to the Athenians, were preserved safe and inviolate; and, in a word, he never said or did any thing to the prejudice of the popular government.

III.

LYCOPHRON, the son of Lycurgus of Butadae, requires that he may have diet in the Prytaneum, according to a donation of the people to Lycurgus. In the year of Anaxicrates,[29] in the sixth prytany,—which was that of the tribe Antiochis,—Stratocles, the son of Euthydemus of Diomea, proposed; that,—since Lycurgus, the son of Lycophron of Butadae, had (as it were) an ingenerated good-will in him towards the people of Athens; and since his ancestors Diomedes and Lycurgus lived in honor and esteem of all people, and when they died were honored for their virtue so far as to be buried at the public charge in the Ceramicus; and since Lycurgus himself, while he had the management of public affairs, was the author of many good and wholesome laws, and was the city treasurer for twelve years together, during which time there passed through his own hands eighteen thousand and nine hundred talents, besides other great sums of money that he was entrusted with by private citizens for the public good, to the sum of six hundred and fifty talents; in all which concerns he behaved himself so justly, that he was often crowned by the city for his fidelity; besides, being chosen by the people to that purpose, he brought much money into the Citadel, and provided ornaments, golden images of victory, and vessels of gold and silver for the Goddess Minerva, and gold ornaments for a hundred Canephoroe;[30] since, being commissary-general, he brought into the stores a great number of arms and at least fifty thousand shot of darts, and set out four hundred galleys, some new built, and others only repaired; since, finding many buildings half finished, as the dock-yards, the arsenal, and the theatre of Bacchus, he completed them; and finished the Panathenaic race, and the court for public exercises at the Lyceum, and adorned the city with many fair new buildings; since, when Alexander, having conquered Asia, and assuming the empire of all Greece, demanded Lycurgus as the principal man that confronted and opposed him in his affairs, the people refused to deliver him up, notwithstanding the terror inspired by Alexander; and since, being often called to account for his management of affairs in so free a city, which was wholly governed by the people, he never was found faulty or corrupt in any particular;—that all people, therefore, may know, not only that the people do highly esteem all such as act in defence of their lïberties and rights while they live, but likewise that they pay them honors after death, in the name of Good Fortune it is decreed by the people, that such honors be paid to Lycurgus, the son of Lycophron of Butadae, for his justice and magnanimity, as that a statue of brass be erected in memory of him in any part of the market which the laws do not prohibit; as likewise that there be provision for diet in the Prytaneum for every eldest son of his progeny, successively for ever. Also, that all his decrees be ratified, and engrossed by the public notary, and engraven on pillars of stone, and set up in the Citadel just by the gifts consecrated to Minerva; and that the city treasurer shall deposit fifty drachms for the engraving of them, out of the money set apart for such uses.

WHETHER AN AGED MAN OUGHT TO MEDDLE IN STATE AFFAIRS.

1. WE are not ignorant, O Euphanes, that you, being an extoller of Pindar, have often in your mouth this saying of his, as a thing well and to the purpose spoken by him:

When as the combat’s once agreed, Who by pretence seeks to be freed Obscures his virtue quite.

But since sloth and effeminacy towards civil affairs, having many pretences, do for the last, as if it were drawn from the sacred line, tender to us old age, and thinking by this chiefly to abate and cool our honorable desire, allege that there is a certain decent dissolution, not only of the athletical, but also of the political period, or that there is in the revolution of our years a certain set and limited time, after which it is no more proper for us to employ ourselves in the conduct of the state than in the corporeal and robust exercises of youth; I esteem myself obliged to communicate also to you those sentiments of mine concerning old men’s intermeddling with public matters, which I am ever and anon ruminating on by myself; so that neither of us may desert that long course we have to this day held together, nor rejecting the political life, which has been (as it were) an intimate friend of our own years, change it for another to which we are absolute strangers, and with which we have not time to become acquainted and familiar, but that we may persist in what we had chosen and have been inured to from the beginning, putting the same conclusion to our life and our living honorably; unless we would, by the short space of life we have remaining, disgrace that longer time we have already lived, as having been spent idly and in nothing that is commendable. For tyranny is not an honorable sepulchre, as one told Dionysius, whose monarchy, obtained by and administered with injustice, did by its long continuance bring on him but a more perfect calamity; as Diogenes afterwards let his son know, when, seeing him at Corinth, of a tyrant become a private person, he said to him: “How unworthy of thyself, Dionysius, thou actest! For thou oughtest not to live here at liberty and fearless with us, but to spend thy life, as thy father did, even to old age, immured within a tyrannical fortress.” But the popular and legal government of a man accustomed to show himself no less profitable in obeying than in commanding is an honorable monument, which really adds to death the glory accruing from life. For this thing, as Simonides says, “goes last under the ground;” unless it be in those in whom humanity and the love of honor die first, and whose zeal for goodness sooner decays than their covetousness after temporal necessaries; as if the soul had its active and divine parts weaker than those that are passive and corporeal; which it were neither honest to say, nor yet to admit from those who affirm that only of gaining we are never weary. But we ought to turn to a better purpose the saying of Thucydides, and believe that it is not the desire of honor only that never grows old,[31] but much more also the inclinations to society and affection to the state, which continue even in ants and bees to the very last. For never did any one know a bee to become by age a drone, as some think it requisite of statesmen, of whom they expect that, when the vigor of their youth is past, they should retire and sit mouldy at home, suffering their active virtue to be consumed by idleness, as iron is by rust. For Cato excellently well said, that we ought not willingly to add the shame proceeding from vice to those many afflictions which old age has of its own. For of the many vices everywhere abounding, there is none which more disgraces an old man than sloth, delicacy, and effeminateness, when, retiring from the court and council, he mews himself up at home like a woman, or getting into the country oversees his reapers and gleaners; for of such a one we may say,

Where’s Oedipus, and all his famous riddles?

But as for him who should in his old age, and not before, begin to meddle with public matters,—as they say of Epimenides, that having fallen asleep while he was a young man, he awakened fifty years after,—and shaking off so long and so close-sticking a repose, should thrust himself, being unaccustomed and unexercised, into difficult and laborious employs, without having been experienced in civil affairs, or inured to the conversations of men, such a man may perhaps give occasion to one that would reprehend him, to say with the prophetess Pythia

Thou com’st too late,

seeking to govern in the state and rule the people, and at an unfit hour knocking at the palace gate, like an ill-bred guest coming late to a banquet, or a stranger, thou wouldst change, not thy place or region, but thy life for one of which thou hast made no trial. For that saying of Simonides,

The state instructs a man,

is true in those who apply themselves to the business of the commonweal whilst they have yet time to be taught, and to learn a science which is scarce attained with much labor through many strugglings and negotiations, even when it timely meets with a nature that can easily undergo toil and difficulty. These things seem not to be impertinently spoken against him who in his old age begins to act in the management of the state.

2. And yet, on the contrary, we see how young men and those of unripe years are by persons of judgment diverted from meddling in public matters; and the laws also testify the same, when by the crier in the assemblies they summon not first the men like Alcibiades and Pytheas to come to the desk, but those who have passed the age of fifty years, to make speeches and consult together for the good of the people. For the being unused to boldness and the want of experience are not so much to every soldier....

[Here is a defect in the original.]

But Cato, when above eighty years of age he was to plead his own cause, said, that it was a difficult thing for a man to make his apology and justify his life before others than those with whom he had lived and been conversant.

All men indeed confess, that the actions of Augustus Caesar, when he had defeated Antony, were no less royal and useful to the public towards the end of his life, than any he had done before. And himself severely reprehending the dissoluteness of young men by establishing good customs and laws, when they raised an uproar, he only said to them: Young men, refuse not to hear an old man, to whom old men not unwillingly gave ear when he was young. The government also of Pericles exerted itself with most vigor in his old age, when he both persuaded the Athenians to make war, and at another time, when they were eagerly bent unseasonably to go forth and fight sixty thousand armed men withstood and hindered them, sealing up in a manner the arms of the people and the keys of the gates. Now as for what Xenophon has written of Agesilaus, it is fit it should be set down in his own words. “What youth,” says he, “was ever so gallant but that his old age surpassed it? Who was ever so terrible to his enemies in the very flower of his virility, as Agesilaus in the declension of his days? At whose death were adversaries ever seen more joyful than at that of Agesilaus, though he departed not this life till he was stooping under the burden of his years? Who more emboldened his confederates than Agesilaus, though being at the utmost period of his life? What young man was ever missed more by his friends than Agesilaus, who died not till he was very old?”

3. Age then hindered not these men from performing such gallant actions; and yet we, forsooth, being at our ease in states which have neither tyranny, war, nor siege to molest them, are afraid of such bloodless debates and emulations, as are for the most part terminated with justice only by law and words; confessing ourselves by this not only worse than those ancient generals and statesmen, but even than poets, sophisters, and players. Since Simonides in his old age gained the victory by his choral songs, as the epigram testifies in these concluding verses:

Fourscore years old was Leoprepes’ son, Simonides, when he this glory won.

And it is said of Sophocles, that, to avoid being condemned of dotage at the instance of his children, he repeated the entrance song of the Chorus in his tragedy of Oedipus in Colonus, which begins thus:

Welcome, stranger, come in time To the best place of this clime, White Colonus, which abounds With brave horses. In these grounds, Spread with Nature’s choicest green, Philomel is often seen. Here she her hearers charms with sweetest lays, Whilst with shrill throat And warbling note She moans the sad misfortunes of her former days:[32]

and that, this song appearing admirable, he was dismissed from the court, as from the theatre, with the applause and acclamations of all that were present. And this short verse is acknowledged to be written of him:

When Sophocles framed for Herodotus This ode, his years were fifty-five.

Philemon also the comedian and Alexis were snatched away by death, whilst they were acting on the stage and crowned with garlands. And as for Polus the tragedian, Eratosthenes and Philochorus related of him that, being seventy years of age, he a little before his death acted in four days eight tragedies.

4. Is it not then a shame, that those who have grown old in councils and courts of judicature should appear less generous than such as have spent their years on the stage, and forsaking those exercises which are really sacred, cast off the person of the statesman, to put on instead of it I know not what other? For to descend from the state of a prince to that of a ploughman is all over base and mean. For since Demosthenes says that the Paralus, being a sacred galley, was unworthily used in being employed to carry timber, pales, and cattle to Midias; would not a man who should, after his having quitted the office of superintendent at the public solemnities, governor of Boeotia, or president in the council of the Amphictyons, be seen measuring of corn, weighing of raisins, and bargaining about fleeces and wool-fells,—would not such a one, I say, wholly seem to have brought on himself, as the proverb has it, the old age of a horse, without any one’s necessitating him to it? For to set one’s self to mechanical employments and trafficking, after one has borne office in the state, is the same as if one should strip a well-bred virtuous gentlewoman out of her matron-like attire, and thrust her with an apron tied about her into a public victualling-house. For the dignity and greatness of political virtue is overthrown, when it is debased to such mean administrations and traffics for gain. But if (which is the only thing remaining) they shall, by giving effeminacies and voluptuousness the name of living at quiet and enjoying one’s self, exhort a statesman leisurely to waste away and grow old in them, I know not to which of the two shameful pictures his life will seem to have the greater resemblance,—whether to the mariners who, leaving their ship for the future not in the harbor but under sail, spend all their time in celebrating the feasts of Venus; or to Hercules, whom some painters merrily but yet ridiculously represent wearing in Omphale’s palace a yellow petticoat, and giving himself up to be boxed and combed by the Lydian damsels. So shall we, stripping a statesman of his lion’s-skin, and seating him at a luxurious table, there be always cloying his palate with delicacies, and filling his ears with effeminate songs and music; being not a whit put to the blush by the saying of Pompey the Great to Lucullus, who after his public services both in camp and council, addicted himself to bathing, feasting, conversing with women in the day, and much other dissoluteness, even to the raising and extravagantly furnishing of sumptuous buildings, and who, once upbraiding Pompey with an ambition and desire of rule unsuitable to his age, was by him answered, that it was more misbecoming an old man to live voluptuously than to govern? The same Pompey, when in his sickness his physician had prescribed him the eating of a thrush, which was then hard to be got, as being out of season, being told that Lucullus bred great store of such birds, would not send to him for one, but said: What! Cannot Pompey live, unless Lucullus be luxurious?

5. For though Nature seeks by all means to delight and rejoice herself, yet the bodies of old men are incapacitated for all pleasures, except a few that are absolutely necessary. For not only

Venus to old men is averse,[33]

as Euripides has it; but their appetite also to their meat and drink is for the most part dull, and as one would say, toothless; so that they have but little gust and relish in them.

They ought therefore to furnish themselves with pleasures of the mind, not ungenerous or illiberal, like those of Simonides, who said to those who reproached him with covetousness, that being by his years deprived of other pleasures, he recreated his old age with the only delight which remained, that of heaping up riches. But political life has in it pleasures exceeding great, and no less honorable, being such as it is probable the very Gods do only or at least chiefly enjoy themselves in; and these are the delights which proceed from doing good and performing what is honest and laudable. For if Nicias the painter took such pleasure in the work of his hands, that he often was fain to ask his servants whether he had washed or dined; and if Archimedes was so intent upon the table in which he drew his geometrical figures, that his attendants were obliged by force to pluck him from it and strip him of his clothes that they might anoint him, whilst he in the mean time drew new schemes on his anointed body; and if Canus the piper, whom you also know, was wont to say that men knew not how much more he delighted himself with his playing than he did others, for that then his hearers would rather demand of him than give him a reward; do we not thence conceive how great pleasures the virtues afford to those who practise them, from their honest actions and public-spirited works tending to the benefit of human society? They do not tickle or weaken, as do such sweet and gentle motions as are made on the flesh; for these indeed have a furious and unconstant itching, mixed with a feverish inflammation; whereas those which accompany the state is worker of, not like the golden plumes of Euripides, but like those celestial wings of Plato, elevate the soul which has received a greatness of courage and wisdom accompanied with joy.

6. Call to mind a little, I entreat you, those things you have so often heard. For Epaminondas indeed, being asked what was the most pleasant thing that ever befell him, answered, his having gained the victory at Leuctra whilst his father and mother were yet living. And Sylla, when, having freed Italy from civil wars, he came to Rome, could not the first night fetch the least wink of sleep, having his soul transported with excessive joy and content, as with a strong and mighty wind; and this he himself has written in his Commentaries. For be it indeed so, as Xenophon says, that there is no sound more pleasing than one’s own praises; yet there is no sight, remembrance, or consideration which gives a man so much satisfaction as the contemplation of his own actions, performed by him in offices of magistracy, and management of the state, in eminent and public places.

It is moreover true, that the courteous thanks attending as a witness on such virtuous acts, and the emulous praise conferred on them, which is as a guide conducting us in the way of just benevolence, add a certain lustre and shining gloss to the joy of virtue. Neither ought a man negligently to suffer his glory to wither in his old age, like a wrestler’s garland; but, by adding always something new and fresh, he should awaken, meliorate, and confirm the grace of his former actions. For as those workmen on whom was incumbent the charge of keeping in repair the Delian ship, by supplying and putting into the place of the decayed planks and timber others that were new and sound, seem to have preserved it from ancient times, as if it were eternal and incorruptible; so the preserving and upholding of one’s glory is as the keeping in of a fire, a work of no difficulty, as requiring only to be supplied with a little fuel, but when either of them is wholly extinct and suppressed, one cannot without great labor rekindle it again. Lampis, the sea commander, being asked how he got his wealth, answered: “My greatest estate I gained easily enough, but the smaller slowly and with much labor.” In like manner, it is not easy at the beginning to acquire reputation and power in the state; but to augment and conserve it, when it is grown great, is not at all hard for those who have obtained it. For neither does a friend, when he is once had, require many and great services that he may so continue, but assiduity does by small signs preserve his good-will; nor do the friendship and confidence of the people expect to have a man always bestowing largesses, defending their causes, or executing of magistracy, but they are maintained by a readiness, and by not failing or being weary of carefulness and solicitude for the public. For even wars themselves have not always conflicts, fights, and sieges; but there sometimes intervene sacrifices and parleys, and abundance of leisure for sports and pastimes. Whence then comes it, that the administration of the commonwealth should be feared as inconsolable, laborious, and unsupportable, where theatres, processions, largesses, music, joy, and at every turn the service and festival of some God or other, unbending the brows of every council and senate, yield a manifold pleasure and delight?

7. As for envy, which is the greatest evil attending the management of public affairs, it least attacks old age. For dogs indeed, as Heraclitus has it, bark at a stranger whom they do not know; and envy opposes him who is a beginner on the very steps of the tribune, hindering his access, but she meekly bears an accustomed and familiar glory, and not churlishly or difficultly. Wherefore some resemble envy to smoke; for it arises thick at first, when the fire begins to burn; but when the flame grows clear, it vanishes away. Now men usually quarrel and contend about other excellences, as virtue, nobility, and honor, as if they were of opinion that they took from themselves as much as they give to others; but the precedency of time, which is properly called by the Greeks Πρεσβεῖον (or the honor of old age), is free from jealousy, and willingly granted by men to their companions. For to no honor is it so incident to grace the honorer more than the honored, as to that which is given to persons in years. Moreover, all men do not expect to gain themselves authority from wealth, eloquence, or wisdom; but as for the reverence and glory to which old age brings men, there is not any one of those who act in the management of the state but hopes to attain it.

He therefore who, having a long time contended against envy, shall when it ceases and is appeased withdraw himself from the state, and together with public actions desert communities and societies, differs nothing from that pilot who, having kept his ship out at sea when in danger of being overwhelmed by contrary and tempestuous waves and winds, seeks to put into harbor as soon as ever the weather is grown calm and favorable. For the longer time there has been, the more friends and companions he has made; all which he cannot carry out with him, as a singing-master does his choir, nor is it just to leave them. But as it is not easy to root up old trees, so neither is it to extirpate a long-continued practice in the management of the state, which having many roots is involved in a tangled mass of affairs, which create more troubles and vexations to those who retire from them than to those who continue in them. And if there is any remainder of envy and emulation against old men from former contentions about civil affairs, they should rather extinguish it by authority, than turn their backs on it and go away naked and disarmed. For envious persons do not so much assail those who contend against them, as they do by contempt insult over such as retire.

8. And to this bears witness that saying of the great Epaminondas to the Thebans, when in the winter the Arcadians requested them to come into their city and dwell in their houses,—which he would not permit, but said to them: Now the Arcadians admire you, seeing you exercise yourselves, and wrestle in your armor; but if they shall behold you sitting by the fire and pounding of beans, they will think you to differ nothing from themselves. So an old man speaking to the people, acting in the state, and honored, is a venerable spectacle; but he who wastes away his days in his bed, or sits discoursing of trivial matters and wiping his nose in the corner of a gallery, easily renders himself an object of contempt. And this indeed Homer himself teaches those who hear him aright. For Nestor, who fought before Troy, was highly venerated and esteemed; whilst Peleus and Laertes, who stayed at home, were slighted and despised. For the habit of prudence does not continue the same in those who give themselves to their ease; but by little and little diminishes and is dissolved by sloth, as always requiring some exercise of the thought to rouse up and purify the rational, active faculty of the soul. For,

Like glittering brass, by being used it shines.[34]

For the infirmity of the body does not so much incommode the administrations of those who, almost spent with age, go to the tribune or to the council of war, as they are advantageous by the caution and prudence which attend their years, and keep them from thrusting themselves precipitately into affairs, abused partly by want of experience and partly by vain-glory, and hurrying the people along with them by violence, like a sea agitated by the winds; causing them mildly and moderately to manage those with whom they have to do.

Whence cities, when they are in adversity and fear, desire the government of grave and ancient personages; and often having drawn out of his field some old man who had not so much as the least thought of it, have compelled him, though unwilling, to put his hand to the helm, and conduct the ship of the state into the haven of security, rejecting generals and orators, who not only knew how to speak loud and make long harangues without drawing their breath, but were able also valiantly to march forth and fight their enemies. So when the orators one day at Athens, before Timotheus and Iphicrates uncovering Chares the son of Theochares, a vigorous and stout-bodied young man, said they were of opinion that the general of the Athenians ought to be such a one; Not so, by all the Gods, answered Timotheus, but such a one he should be that is to carry the general’s bedding; but the general himself ought to be such a one as can at the same time see both forwards and backwards, and will suffer not his reasonings about things convenient to be disturbed by any passion.

Sophocles indeed said, he was glad that he was got free from the tyranny of wanton love, as being a furious and raging master; but in the administrations of state, we are not to avoid this one only master, the love of women or boys, but many who are madder than he, such as obstinacy in contending ambition, and a desire of being always the first and greatest, which is a disease most fruitful in bringing forth envy, jealousy, and conspiracies; some of which vices old age abates and dulls, while it wholly extinguishes and cools the others, not so much detracting from the practical impulse of the mind, as repressing its impetuous and over-hot passions, that it may apply a sober and settled reasoning to its considerations about the management of affairs.

9. Nevertheless let this speech of the poet,

Lie still at ease, poor wretch, in thy own bed,[35]

both be and seem to be spoken for the dissuading of him who shall, when he is now grown gray with age, begin to play the youth; and for the restraining an old man who, rising from a long administration of his domestic affairs, as from a lingering disease, shall set himself to lead an army to the field, or perform the office of secretary of state.

But altogether senseless, and nothing like to this, is he who will not suffer one that has spent his whole time in political administrations, and been thoroughly beaten to them, to go on to his funeral torch and the conclusion of his life, but shall call him back, and command him (as it were) to turn out of the long road he has been travelling in. He who, to draw off from his design an old fellow who is crowned and is perfuming himself to go a wooing, should say to him, as was heretofore said to Philoctetes,

What virgin will her blooming maidenhead Bestow on such a wretch? Why would’st thou wed?

would not be at all absurd, since even old men break many such jests upon themselves, and say,

I, old fool, know, I for my neighbors wed;

but he who should think, that a man which has long co-habited and lived irreprehensibly with his wife ought, because he is grown old, to dismiss her and live alone, or take a concubine in her place, would have attained the utmost excess of perverseness. So he would not act altogether unreasonably, that should admonish an old man who is making his first approaches to the people, whether he be such a one as Chlidon the farmer, or Lampon the mariner, or some old dreaming philosopher of the garden, and advise him to continue in his accustomed unconcernedness for the public; but he who, taking hold of Phocion, Cato, or Pericles, should say to him, My Athenian or Roman friend, who art come to thy withered old age, make a divorce, and henceforth quit the state; and dismissing all conversations and cares about either council or camp, retire into the country, there with an old maid-servant looking after thy husbandry, or spending the remainder of thy time in managing thy domestic affairs and taking thy accounts,—would persuade a statesman to do things misbeseeming him and unacceptable.

10. What then! may some one say; do we not hear the soldier in the comedy affirming,

Henceforth my gray hairs exempt me from wars?

Yes indeed, my friend, it is altogether so; for it becomes the servants of Mars to be young and vigorous, as managing

War, and war’s toilsome works;[36]

in which, though an helmet may also hide the old man’s gray hairs,

Yet inwardly his limbs are all decayed,[37]

and his strength falls short of his good-will. But from the ministers of Jupiter, the counsellor, orator, and patron of cities, we expect not the works of feet and hands, but those of counsel, providence, and reason,—not such as raises a noise and shouting amongst the people, but such as has it in understanding, prudent solicitousness, and safety; by which the derided hoariness and wrinkles appear as witnesses of his experience, and add to him the help of persuasion, and the glory of ingenuity. For youth is made to follow and be persuaded, age to guide and direct; and that city is most secure, where the counsels of the old and the prowess of the young bear sway. And this of Homer,[38]

A council first of valiant old men He called in Nestor’s ship,

is wonderfully commended. Wherefore the Pythian Apollo called the aristocracy or council of noblemen in Lacedaemon, joined as assistants to their kings, Πρεσβυγενεῖς (or the ancients), and Lycurgus named it plainly Γέροντες (or the council of old men); and even to this day the council of the Romans is called the senate (from senium, signifying old age). And as the law places the diadem and crown, so does Nature the hoariness of the head, as an honorable sign of princely dignity. And I am of opinion, that γέρας (signifying an honorable reward) and γεραίρειν (signifying to honor) continue still in use amongst the Greeks, being made venerable from the respect paid to old men, not because they wash in warm water and sleep on softer beds than others, but because they have as it were a king-like esteem in states for their prudence, from which, as from a late-bearing tree, Nature scarcely in old age brings forth its proper and perfect good. Therefore none of those martial and magnanimous Achaeans blamed that king of kings, Agamemnon, for praying thus to the Gods,

O that among the Greeks I had but ten Such counsellors as Nestor;[39]

but they all granted, that not in policy only, but in war also, old age has great influence;

For one discreet advice is much more worth Than many hands,[40]

and one rational and persuasive sentence effects the bravest and greatest of public exploits.

11. Moreover, the regal dignity, which is the perfectest and greatest of all political governments, has exceeding many cares, labors, and difficulties; insomuch that Seleucus is reported ever and anon to have said: If men knew how laborious are only the writing and reading of so many epistles, they would not so much as stoop to take up a diadem thrown on the ground. And Philip, when, being about to pitch his camp in a fair and commodious place, he was told that there was not there forage for his regiments, cried out: O Hercules, what a life is ours, if we must live for the conveniency of asses! It is then time to persuade a king, when he is now grown into years, to lay aside his diadem and purple, and putting on a coarse coat, with a crook in his hand, to betake himself to a country life, lest he should seem to act superfluously and unseasonably by reigning in his old age. But if the very mentioning such a thing to an Agesilaus, a Numa, or a Darius would be an indignity; let us not, because they are in years, either drive away Solon from the council of the Areopagus, or remove Cato out of the senate; nor yet let us advise Pericles to abandon the democracy. For it is besides altogether unreasonable and absurd, that he who has in his youth leaped into the tribunal should, after he has discharged all his furious ambitions and impetuous passions on the public, when he is come to that maturity of years which by experience brings prudence, desert and abandon the commonwealth, having abused it as if it were a woman.

12. Aesop’s fox indeed would not permit the hedge-hog, who offered it, to take from him the ticks that fed upon his body. For, said he, if thou remov’st those that are full, other hungry ones will succeed them. So it is of necessity, that a commonwealth which is always casting off those who grow old must be replenished with young men, thirsting after glory and power, and void of understanding in state affairs. For whence, I pray, should they have it, if they shall have been neither disciples nor spectators of any ancient statesman? For if treatises of navigation cannot make those skilful pilots who have not often in the stern been spectators of the conflicts against the waves, winds, and pitchy darkness of the night,

When the poor trembling seaman longs to see The safety-boding twins, Tyndaridae;

how should a raw young man take in hand the government of a city, and rightly advise both the senate and the people, having only read a book or written an exercise in the Lyceum concerning policy, though he has seldom or never stood by the reins or helm, when grave statesmen and old commanders have in debating alleged both their experiences and fortunes, whilst he was wavering on both sides, that so he might with dangers and transacting of affairs gain instruction? This is not to be said. But if it were for nothing else, yet ought an old man to manage in public affairs, that he may instruct and teach those who are young. For as those who teach children reading and music do, by pronouncing and by singing notes and tunes before them, lead and bring on their scholars; so an old statesman, not by speaking and dictating exteriorly, but by acting and administering public affairs, directs and breeds up a young one, who is by his deeds joined with his words interiorly formed and fashioned. For he who is exercised after this manner, not amongst the disputes of nimble tongued sophisters, as in the wrestling-schools and anointings, where there is not the least appearance of any danger, but really, and as it were in the Olympian and Pythian games, will tread in his teacher’s steps,

Like a young colt, which runs by th’ horse’s side,—

as Simonides has it. Thus Aristides followed Clisthenes, Cimon Aristides, Phocion Chabrias, Cato Fabius Maximus, Pompey Sylla, and Polybius Philopoemen; for these, when they were young, joining themselves with their elders, and afterwards as it were flourishing and growing up by their administrations and actions, gained experience, and were inured to the management of public affairs with reputation and power.

13. Aeschines therefore the Academic, being charged by certain sophisters that he pretended himself a disciple of Carneades when he was not so, said: I was then a hearer of Carneades, when his discourse, having dismissed contention and noise by reason of his old age, contracted itself to what was useful and fit to be communicated. Now an aged man’s government being not only in words but in deeds far remote from all ostentation and vain-glory,—as they say of the bird ibis, that when she is grown old, having exhaled all her venomous and stinking savor, she sends forth a most sweet and aromatical one,—so in men grown into years, there is no opinion or counsel disturbed, but all grave and settled. Wherefore, even for the young men’s sake, as has been said, ought an old man to act in the government of the state; that, (as Plato said of wine allayed with water, that the furious God was made wise, being chastised by another who was sober) so the caution of old age, mixed among the people with the fervency of youth, transported by glory and ambition, may take off that which is furious and over-violent.

14. But besides all this, they are under a mistake who think that, as sailing and going to the wars, so also acting in the state is done for a certain end, and ceases when that is obtained. For the managing of state affairs is not a ministry which has profit for its end; but the life of gentle, civil, and sociable animals, framed by nature to live civilly, honestly, and for the benefit of mankind. Wherefore it is fit he should be such a one as that it may be said of him, he is employed in state affairs, and not he has been so employed; as also, that he is true, and not he has been true; he acts justly, and not he has acted justly; and that he loves his country and fellow-citizens, and not he has loved them. For to these things does Nature direct, and these voices does she sound to those who are not totally corrupted with sloth and effeminacy:

Thy father has engendered thee a man, Worthy of much esteem with men:

and again,

Let us not cease to benefit mankind.

15. Now as for those who pretend weakness and impotency, they accuse rather sickness and infirmity of body than old age; for there are many young men sickly, and many old ones lusty; so that we are not to remove from the administration of the state aged, but impotent persons; nor call to it such as are young, but such as are able. For Aridaeus was young, and Antigonus old; and yet the latter conquered in a manner all Asia, whereas the former, as if he had only been to make a dumb show with his guards upon a stage, was but the bare name of a king, a puppet always mocked by those who were in power. As therefore he would be a very fool that should think Prodicus the sophister and Philetas the poet—men indeed young, but withal weak, sickly, and almost always confined by their infirmity to their beds—fit to be concerned in the management of the state; so he would be no less absurd that should hinder such vigorous old men as were Phocion, Masinissa the Libyan, and Cato the Roman, from governing or leading forth of armies. For Phocion, when the Athenians were at an unseasonable time hurrying to war, made proclamation that all who were not above sixty years of age should take up arms and follow him; and when they were offended at it, he said, There is no hardship put upon you, for I, who am above fourscore years old, will be your general. And Polybius relates, that Masinissa, dying at the age of ninety years, left behind him a young son of his own begetting, not above four years old; and that, having a little before been in a great fight, he was the next day seen at the door of his tent eating a dirty piece of bread, and that he said to those who wondered at it, that he did this....

For brass by use and wear its gleam displays, But every house untenanted decays;[41]

as Sophocles has it; we all say the same of that light and lustre of the soul, by which we reason, remember, and think.

16. Wherefore also they say, that kings become better in wars and military expeditions than when they live at ease. Attalus therefore, the brother of Eumenes, being enervated with long idleness and peace, was with little skill managed by Philopoemen, one of his favorites, who fattened him like a hog in the sty; so that the Romans were wont in derision to ask those who came out of Asia, whether the king had any power with Philopoemen. Now one cannot find amongst the Romans many stouter generals than Lucullus, as long as he applied his mind to action; but when he gave himself up to an unactive life, to a continuing lazily at home, and an unconcernedness for the public, being dulled and mortified, like sponges in calm weather, and then delivering his old age to be dieted and ordered by Callisthenes one of his freedmen, he seemed bewitched by him with philters and other incantations; till such time as his brother Marcus, having driven away this fellow, did himself govern and conduct the remainder of his life, which was not very long. But Darius, father of Xerxes, said, that by difficulties he grew wiser than himself. And the Scythian Ateas affirmed, that he thought there was no difference between himself and his horse-keepers, when he was idle. And Dionysius the Elder, when one asked him whether he was at leisure, answered, May that never befall me. For a bow, they say, will break, if over-bent; and a soul, if too much slackened. For even musicians, if they over-long omit to hear accords, geometricians, if they leave off demonstrating their propositions, and arithmeticians, if they discontinue their casting up of accounts, do, together with the actions, impair by their progress in age the habits, though they are not practical but speculative arts; but the habit of statesmen—being wise counsel, discretion, and justice, and besides these, experience which seizes upon the right opportunities and words, the very faculty which works persuasion—is maintained by frequent speaking, acting, reasoning, and judging. And a hard thing it would be, if by avoiding to do these things it should suffer such and so great virtues to run out of the soul. For it is probable also that humanity, friendly society, and beneficence will then also decay, of which there ought to be no end or limit.

17. If then you had Tithonus to your father, who was indeed immortal, but yet by reason of his old age stood perpetually in need of much attendance, I do think you would shun or be weary of looking to him, discoursing with him, and helping him, as having a long time done him service. Now our fatherland (or, as the Cretans call it, our motherland), being older and having greater rights than our parents, is indeed long lasting, yet neither free from the inconveniences of old age nor self-sufficient; but standing always in need of a serious regard, succor, and vigilance, she pulls to her and takes hold of a statesman,

And with strong hand restrains him, who would go.[42]

And you indeed know that I have these many Pythiads served the Pythian Apollo; but yet you would not say to me: Thou hast sufficiently, O Plutarch, sacrificed, gone in procession, and led dances in honor of the Gods; it is now time that, being in years, thou shouldst in favor of thy old age lay aside the garland and leave the oracle. Therefore neither do you think that you, who are the chief priest and interpreter of religious ceremonies in the state, may leave the service of Jupiter, the protector of cities and governor of assemblies, for the performance of which you were long since consecrated.

18. But leaving, if you please, this discourse about withdrawing old men from performing their duties to the state, let us make it a little the subject of our consideration and philosophy, how we may enjoin them no exercise unfitting or grievous to their years, the administration of a commonwealth having many parts beseeming and suitable for such persons. For as, if we were obliged to persevere in the practice of singing to the end of our days, it would behoove us, being now grown old, of the many tones and tensions there are of the voice, which the musicians call harmonies, not to aim at the highest and shrillest, but to make choice of that in which there is an easiness joined with a decent suitableness; so, since it is more natural for men to act and speak even to the end of their lives, than for swans to sing, we must not reject action, like a harp that is set too high, but rather let it a little down, accommodating it to such employs in the state as are easy, moderate, and fitting for men in years. For neither do we suffer our bodies to be altogether motionless and unexercised because we cannot any longer make use of spades and plummets, nor yet throw quoits or skirmish in armor, as we have formerly done; but some of us do by swinging and walking, others by playing gently at ball, and some again by discoursing, stir up our spirits and revive our natural heat. Therefore neither let us permit ourselves to be wholly chilled and frozen by idleness, nor yet on the contrary let us, by burthening ourselves with every office or intermeddling with every public business, force on old age, convinced of its disability, to break forth into these exclamations:

The spear to brandish, thou, right hand, art bent; But weak old age opposes thy intent.

Since even that man is not commended who, in the vigor and strength of his years, imposing all public affairs in general on himself, and unwilling to leave any thing for another (as the Stoics say of Jupiter), thrusts himself into all employs, and intermeddles in every business, through an insatiable desire of glory, or through envy against those who are in some measure partakers of honor and authority in the state. But to an old man, though you should free him from the infamy, yet painful and miserable would be an ambition always laying wait at every election of magistrates, a curiosity attending for every opportunity of judicature or assembling in counsel, and a humor of vain-glory catching at every embassy and patronage. For the doing of these things, even with the favor and good liking of every one, is too heavy for that age. And yet the contrary to this happens; for they are hated by the young men, as leaving them no occasions of action, nor suffering them to put themselves forth; and their ambitious desire of primacy and rule is no less odious to others than the covetousness and voluptuousness of other old men.

19. Therefore, as Alexander, unwilling to tire his Bucephalus when he now began to grow old, did before the fight ride on other horses, to view his army and draw it up for battle, and then, after the signal was given, mounting this, marched forth and charged the enemy; so a statesman, if he is wise, moderating himself when he finds years coming on, will abstain from intermeddling in unnecessary affairs, and suffering the state to make use of younger persons in smaller matters, will readily exercise himself in such as are of great importance. For champions indeed keep their bodies untouched and unemployed in necessary matters, that they may be in a readiness for unprofitable engagements; but let us on the contrary, letting pass what is little and frivolous, carefully preserve ourselves for worthy and gallant actions. For all things perhaps, as Homer says, equally become a young man;[43] all men now esteem and love him; so that for undertaking frequently little and many businesses, they say he is laborious and a good commonwealths-man; and for enterprising none but splendid and noble actions, they style him generous and magnanimous; nay, there are also some occurrences when even contention and rashness have a certain seasonableness and grace, becoming such men. But an old man’s undertaking in a state such servile employs as the farming out of the customs, and the looking after the havens and market-place, or else his running on embassies and journeys to princes and potentates when there are no necessary or honorable affairs to be treated of, but only compliments and a maintaining of correspondence,—such management, dear friend, seems to me a thing miserable and not to be imitated, but to others, perhaps, odious and intolerable.

20. For it is not even seasonable for such men to be employed in magistracies, unless it be such as bear somewhat of grandeur and dignity; such is the presidency in the council of Areopagus, which you now exercise, and such also, by Jove, is the excellency of the Amphictyonic office, which your country has conferred on you for your life, having an easy labor and pleasant pains. And yet old men ought not ambitiously to affect even these honors, but accept them with refusal, not seeking but being sought; nor as taking government on themselves, but bestowing themselves on government. For it is not, as Tiberius Caesar said, a shame for those that are above threescore years old to reach forth their hands to the physician; but it far more misbeseems them to hold up their hands to the people, to beg their votes or suffrages for the obtaining offices; for this is ungenerous and mean, whereas the contrary has a certain majesty and comeliness, when, his country choosing, inviting, and expecting him, he comes down with honor and courtesy to welcome and receive the present, truly befitting his old age and acceptance.

21. After the same manner also ought he that is grown old to use his speech in assemblies, not ever and anon climbing up to the desk to make harangues, nor always, like a cock, crowing against those that speak, nor letting go the reins of the young men’s respect to him by contending against them and provoking them, nor breeding in them a desire and custom of disobedience and unwillingness to hear him; but he should sometimes pass them by, and let them strut and brave it against his opinion, neither being present nor concerning himself much at it, as long as there is no great danger to the public safety nor any offence against what is honest and decent. But in such cases, on the contrary, he ought, though nobody call him, to run beyond his strength, or to deliver himself to be led or carried in a chair, as historians report of Appius Claudius in Rome. For he having understood that the senate, after their army had been in a great fight worsted by Pyrrhus, were debating about receiving proposals of peace and alliance, could not bear it, but, although he had lost both his eyes, caused himself to be carried through the common place straight to the senate house, where entering among them and standing in the midst, he said, that he had formerly indeed been troubled at his being deprived of his sight, but that he now wished he had also lost his ears, rather than to have heard that the Roman senators were consulting and acting things so ungenerous and dishonorable. And then partly reprehending, and partly teaching and exalting them, he persuaded them to betake themselves presently to their arms, and fight with Pyrrhus for the dominion of Italy. And Solon, when the popularity of Pisistratus was discovered to be only a plot for the obtaining of a tyranny, none daring to oppose or impeach it, did himself bring forth his arms, and setting them before the doors of his house, called out to the people to assist him; and when Pisistratus sent to ask him what gave him the confidence to act in that manner, “My old age,” answered he.

22. For matters that are so necessary as these inflame and rouse up old men who are in a manner extinct, so that they have but any breath yet left them; but in other occurrences, an old man, as has been said, should be careful to avoid mean and servile offices, and such in which the trouble to those who manage them exceeds the advantage and profit for which they are done. Sometimes by expecting also till the citizens call and desire and fetch him out of house, he is thought more worthy of credit by those who request him. And even when he is present, let him for the most part silently permit the younger men to speak, as if he were an arbitrator, judging to whom the reward and honor of this their debate about public matters ought to be given; but if any thing should exceed a due mediocrity, let him mildly reprehend it, and with sweetness cut off all obstinate contentions, all injurious and choleric expressions, directing and teaching without reproof him that errs in his opinions, boldly praising him that is in the right, and often willingly suffering himself to be overcome, persuaded, and brought to their side, that he may hearten and encourage them; and sometimes with commendations supplying what has been omitted, not unlike to Nestor, whom Homer makes to speak in this manner:

There is no Greek can contradict or mend What you have said; yet to no perfect end Is your speech brought. No wonder, for’t appears. You’re young, and may my son be for your years.[44]

23. And it were yet more civil and politic, not only in reprehending them openly and in the face of the people, to forbear that sharpness of speech which exceedingly dashes a young man and puts him out of countenance, but rather, wholly abstaining from all such public reproofs, privately to instruct such as have a good genius for the managing of state affairs, drawing them on by setting gently before them useful counsels and political precepts, inciting them to commendable actions, enlightening their understanding, and showing them, as those do who teach to ride, how at their beginning to render the people tractable and mild, and if any young man chances to fall, not to suffer him to lie gasping and panting on the ground, but to help him up and comfort him, as Aristides dealt by Cimon, and Mnesiphilus by Themistocles; whom they raised up and encouraged, though at first they were harshly received and ill spoken of in the city, as audacious and intemperate. It is said also, that Demosthenes being rejected by the people and taking it to heart, there came to him a certain old man, who had in former years been an hearer of Pericles, and told him, that he naturally resembled that great man, and did unjustly cast down himself. In like manner Euripides exhorted Timotheus, when he was hissed at for introducing of novelty, and thought to transgress against the law of music, to be of good courage, for that he should in a short time have all the theatres subject to him.

24. In brief, as in Rome the Vestal virgins have their time divided into three parts, in one of which they are to learn what belong to the ceremonies of their religion, in the second to execute what they have learned, and in the third to teach the younger; and as in like manner they call every one of those who are consecrated to the service of Diana in Ephesus, first Mell-hiere (one that is to be a priestess), then Hiere (priestess), and thirdly Par-hiere (or one that has been a priestess), so he that is a perfect statesman is at first a learner in the management of public affairs, then a practitioner, and at last a teacher and instructor in the mysteries of government. For indeed he who is to oversee others that are performing their exercise or fighting for prizes cannot judge at the same exercise and fight himself. Thus he who instructs a young man in public affairs and negotiations of the state, and prepares him

Both to speak well and act heroicly[45]

for the service of his country, is in no small or mean degree useful to the commonwealth, but in that at which Lycurgus chiefly and principally aimed himself, when he accustomed young men to persist in obedience to every one that was elder, as if he were a lawgiver. For to what, think you, had Lysander respect, when he said that in Lacedaemon men most honorably grew old? Was it because old men could most honorably grow old there enjoying idleness, putting out money to use, sitting together at tables, and after their game taking a cheerful cup? You will not, I believe, say any such thing. But it was because all such men, being after some sort in the place of magistrates, fatherly governors, or tutors of youth, inspected not only the public affairs, but also made inquiry—and that not slightly—into every action of the younger men, both as concerning their exercises, recreations, and diet, being terrible indeed to offenders, but venerable and desirable to the good. For young men indeed always venerate and follow those who increase and cherish the neatness and generosity of their disposition without any envy.

25. For this vice, though beseeming no age, is nevertheless in young men veiled with specious names, being styled emulation, zeal, and desire of honor; but in old men, it is altogether unseasonable, savage, and unmanly. Therefore a statesman that is in years must be very far from being envious, and not act like those old trees and stocks which, as with a certain charm, manifestly withdraw the nutritive juice from such young plants as grow near them or spring up under them, and hinder their growth; but he should kindly admit and even offer himself to those that apply themselves to him and seek to converse with him, directing, leading, and educating them, not only by good instructions and counsels, but also by affording them the means of administering such public affairs as may bring them honor and repute, and executing such unprejudicial commissions as will be pleasing and acceptable to the multitude. But for such things as, being untoward and difficult, do like medicines at first gripe and molest, but afterwards yield honor and profit,—upon these things he ought not to put young men, nor expose those who are inexperienced to the mutinous clamors of the rude and ill-natured multitude, but he should rather take the odium upon himself for such things as (though harsh and unpleasing) may yet prove beneficial to the commonwealth; for this will render the young men both more affectionate to him, and more cheerful in the undertaking other services.

26. But besides all this, we are to keep in mind, that to be a statesman is not only to bear offices, go on embassies, talk loud in public meetings, and thunder on the tribune, speaking and writing such things in which the vulgar think the art of government to consist; as they also think that those only philosophize who dispute from a chair and spend their leisure time in books, while the policy and philosophy which is continually exercised in works and conspicuous in actions is nowise known to them. For they say, as Dicaearchus affirmed, that they who fetch turns to and fro in galleries walk, but not they who go into the country or to visit a friend. But the being a statesman is like the being a philosopher. Wherefore Socrates did philosophize, not only when he neither placed benches nor seated himself in his chair, nor kept the hour of conference and walking appointed for his disciples, but also when, as it happened, he played, drank, went to war with some, bargained, finally, even when he was imprisoned and drank the poison; having first shown that man’s life does at all times, in every part, and universally in all passions and actions, admit of philosophy. The same also we are to understand of civil government, to wit, that fools do not administer the state, even when they lead forth armies, write dispatches and edicts, or make speeches to the people; but that they either endeavor to insinuate themselves into the favor of the vulgar and become popular, seek applause by their harangues, raise seditions and disturbances, or at the best perform some service, as compelled by necessity. But he that seeks the public good, loves his country and fellow-citizens, has a serious regard to the welfare of the state, and is a true commonwealths-man, such a one, though he never puts on the military garment or senatorial robe, is yet always employed in the administration of the state, by inciting to action those who are able, guiding and instructing those that want it, assisting and advising those that ask counsel, deterring and reclaiming those that are ill-given, and confirming and encouraging those that are well-minded; so that it is manifest, he does not for fashion’s sake apply himself to the public affairs, nor go then to the theatre or council when there is any haste or when he is sent for by name, that he may have the first place there, being otherwise present only for his recreation, as when he goes to some show or a concert of music; but on the contrary, though absent in body, yet is he present in mind, and being informed of what is done, approves some things and disapproves others.

27. For neither did Aristides amongst the Athenians, nor Cato amongst the Romans often execute the office of magistrate; and yet both the one and the other employed their whole lives perpetually in the service of their country. And Epaminondas indeed, being general, performed many and great actions; but yet there is related an exploit of his, not inferior to any of them, performed about Thessaly when he had neither command in the army nor office in the state. For, when the commanders, having through inadvertency drawn a squadron into a difficult and disadvantageous ground, were in amaze, for that the enemies pressed hard upon them, galling them with their arrows, he, being called up from amongst the heavy-armed foot, first by his encouraging them dissipated the trouble and fright of the army, and then, having ranged and brought into order that squadron whose ranks had been broken, he easily disengaged them out of those straits, and placed them in front against their enemies, who, thereupon changing their resolutions, marched off. Also when Agis, king of Sparta, was leading on his army, already put in good order for fight, against the enemies, a certain old Spartan called out aloud to him, and said, that he thought to cure one evil by another; meaning that he was desirous the present unseasonable promptness to fight should salve the disgrace of their over-hasty departure from before Argos, as Thucydides says. Now Agis, hearing him, took his advice, and at that present retreated; but afterwards got the victory. And there was every day a chair set for him before the doors of the government house, and the Ephori, often rising from their consistory and going to him, asked his advice and consulted him about the greatest and most important affairs; for he was esteemed very prudent, and is recorded to have been a man of great sense. And therefore, having now wholly exhausted the strength of his body, and being for the most part tied to his bed, when the Ephori sent for him to the common hall of the city, he strove to get up and go to them; but walking heavily and with great difficulty, and meeting by the way certain boys, he asked them whether they knew any thing stronger than the necessity of obeying their master; and they answering him that inability was of greater force, he, supposing that this ought to be the limit of his service, turned back again homewards. For a readiness and good will to serve the public ought not to fail, whilst ability lasts; but when that is once gone, it is no longer to be forced. And indeed Scipio, both in war and peace, always used Caius Laelius for a counsellor; insomuch that some said, Scipio was the actor of those noble exploits, and Caius the poet or author. And Cicero himself confessed, that the honorablest and greatest of his counsels, by the right performance of which he in his consulship preserved his country, were concerted with Publius Nigidius the philosopher.

28. Thus is there nothing that in any manner of government hinders old men from helping the public by the best things, to wit, by their reason, sentences, freedom of speech, and solicitous care, as the poets term it. For not only our hands, feet, and corporeal strength are the possession and share of the commonwealth; but chiefly our soul, and the beauties of our soul, justice, temperance, and prudence; which receiving their perfection late and slowly, it were absurd that men should remain in charge of house and land and other wealth, and yet not be beneficial to their common country and fellow-citizens by reason of their age, which does not so much detract from their ministerial abilities as it adds to their directive and political. And this is the reason why they portrayed the Mercuries of old without hands and feet, but having their natural parts stiff, enigmatically representing that there is no great need of old men’s corporeal services, if they have but their reason (as is convenient) active and fruitful.

POLITICAL PRECEPTS.

1. If ever, O Menemachus, that saying of Nestor’s in Homer,

There is no Greek can contradict or mend What you have said, yet to no perfect end Is your speech brought,[46]

might pertinently be made use of and applied, it is against those exhorting, but nothing teaching nor any way instructing, philosophers. For they do (in this respect) resemble those who are indeed careful in snuffing the lamps, but negligent in supplying them with oil. Seeing therefore that you, being by reason moved to engage yourself in the affairs of the state, desire, as becomes the nobility of your family,

Both to speak and act heroicly[47]

in the service of your country, and that, not having attained to such maturity of age as to have observed the life of a wise and philosophical man openly spent in the transactions of the state and public debates, and to have been a spectator of worthy examples represented not in word but in deed, you request me to lay you down some political precepts and instructions; I think it no ways becoming me to give you a denial, but heartily wish that the work may be worthy both of your zeal and my forwardness. Now I have, according to your request, made use in this my discourse of sundry and various examples.

2. First then for the administration of state affairs, let there be laid, as a firm and solid foundation, an intention and purpose, having for its principles judgment and reason, and not any impulse from vain-glory, emulation, or want of other employment. For as those who have nothing grateful to them at home frequently spend their time in the forum, though they have no occasion that requires it; so some men, because they have no business of their own worth employing themselves in, thrust themselves into public affairs, using policy as a divertisement. Many also, having been by chance engaged in the negotiations of the commonweal, and being cloyed with them, cannot yet easily quit them; in which they suffer the same with those who, going on board a ship that they may be there a little tossed, and being after carried away into the deep, send forth many a long look towards the shore, being sea-sick and giddy-headed, and yet necessitated to stay and accommodate themselves to their present fortune.

Past is the lovely pleasure They took, when th’ sea was calm and weather bright, In walking at their leisure On the ship’s deck, Whilst her sharp beak With merry gale, And full blown sail, Did through the surging billows cut its course aright

And these do most of all discredit the matter by their repenting and being discontented, when either hoping for glory they fall into disgrace, or expecting to become formidable to others by their power they are engaged in affairs full of dangers and troubles. But he who on a well grounded principle of reason undertakes to act in the public, as an employ very honorable and most beseeming him, is dismayed by none of these things; nor does he therefore change his opinion. For we must not come to the management of the commonweal on a design of gaining and growing rich by it, as Stratocles and Dromoclides exhorted one another to the golden harvest,—so in mirth terming the tribunal, or place of making harangues to the people,—nor yet as seized with some sudden fit of passion, as did heretofore Caius Gracchus, who having, whilst his brothers’ misfortunes were hot, withdrawn himself to a retired life most remote from public affairs, did afterwards, inflamed by indignation at the injuries and affronts put on him by some persons, thrust himself into the state, where being soon filled with affairs and glory, when he sought to desist and desired change and repose, he could not (so great was it grown) find how to lay down his authority, but perished with it. And as for those who through emulation frame themselves for the public as actors for the stage, they must needs repent of their design, finding themselves under a necessity of either serving those whom they think themselves worthy to govern, or disobliging those whom they desire to please. Now I am of opinion, that those who by chance and without foresight stumble upon policy, falling as it were into a pit, cannot but be troubled and repent; whereas they that go leisurely into it, with preparation and a good resolution, comfort themselves moderately in all occurrences, as having no other end of their actions but the discharging of their duty with honor.

3. Now they that have thus grounded their choice within themselves, and rendered it immovable and difficult to be changed, must set themselves to contemplate that disposition of the citizens which, being compounded (as it were) of all their natures, appears most prevalent among them. For the endeavoring presently to form the manners and change the nature of a people is neither easy nor safe, but a work requiring much time and great authority. But as wine in the beginning is overcome by the nature of the drinker, but afterwards, gently warming him and mixing itself in his veins, assimilates and changes him who drinks it into its own likeness, so must a statesman, till he has by his reputation and credit obtained a leading power amongst the people, accommodate himself to the dispositions of the subjects, knowing how to consider and conjecture those things with which the people are naturally delighted and by which they are usually drawn. The Athenians, to wit, are easily moved to anger, and not difficultly changed to mercy, more willing to suspect quickly than to be informed by leisure; and as they are readier to help mean and inconsiderable persons, so do they embrace and esteem facetious and merry speeches; they are exceedingly delighted with those that praise them, and very little offended with such as jeer them; they are terrible even to their governors, and yet courteous to their very enemies. Far other is the disposition of the Carthaginians, severe, rigid, obsequious to their rulers, harsh to their subjects, most abject in their fear, most cruel in their anger, firm in their resolutions, untractable, and hard to be moved by sportive and pleasant discourse. Should Cleon have requested them to defer their assembly, because he had sacrificed to the Gods and was to feast certain strangers, they would not have risen up, laughing and clapping their hands for joy; nor, if Alcibiades, as he was making an harangue to them, had let slip a quail from under his cloak, would they have striven who should catch her and restore her to him again, but would rather have killed them both on the place, as contemning and deriding them; since they banished Hanno for making use of a lion to carry his baggage to the army, accusing him of affecting tyranny. Neither do I think, that the Thebans, if they had been made masters of their enemies’ letters, would have foreborne looking into them, as did the Athenians, when, having taken the messengers of Philip who were carrying a letter superscribed to Olympias, they would not so much as open it, or discover the conjugal secrets of an absent husband, written to his wife. Nor yet do I believe that the Athenians on the other side would have patiently suffered the haughtiness and disdain of Epaminondas, when, refusing to answer an accusation brought against him, he rose up from the theatre, and went away through the midst of the assembly to the place of public exercises. And much less am I of opinion that the Spartans would have endured the contumely and scurrility of Stratocles, who persuaded the people to offer sacrifices of thanksgiving to the Gods, as having obtained the victory, and afterwards, when, being truly informed of the loss they had received, they were angry with him, asked them what injury they had sustained in having through his means spent three days merrily.

Courtly flatterers indeed, like to quail-catchers, by imitating the voices and assimilating themselves to the manners of kings, chiefly insinuate into their favors and entrap them by deceit; but it is not convenient for a statesman to imitate the people’s manners, but to know them, and make use of those things toward every person by which he is most likely to be taken. For the ignorance of men’s humors brings no less disorders and obstacles in commonweals than in the friendships of kings.

4. When therefore you shall have already gotten power and authority amongst the people, then must you endeavor to reform their disposition, treating them gently, and by little and little drawing them to what is better. For the changing of a multitude is a difficult and laborious work. But as for your own manners and behavior, so compose and adorn them, as knowing that you are henceforth to lead your life on an open stage; and if it is no easy task for you wholly to extirpate vice out of your soul, at least take away and retrench those offences which are most notorious and apparent. For you cannot but have heard how Themistocles, when he designed to enter upon the management of public affairs, withdrew himself from drinking and revelling, and fell to watching, fasting, and studying, saying to his intimate friends, that Miltiades’s trophy suffered him not to sleep. And Pericles also so changed himself, both as to the comportment of his body and his manner of living, that he walked gravely, discoursed affably, always showed a staid and settled countenance, continually kept his hand under his robe, and went only that way which led to the assembly and the senate. For a multitude is not so tractable as that it should be easy for every one to take it with safety, but it is a service much to be valued, if, being like a suspicious and skittish beast, it can be so managed that, without being frighted either by sight or voice, it will submit to receive instruction.

These things therefore are not slightly to be observed; nor are we to neglect taking such care of our own life and manners that they may be clear from all stain and reprehension. For statesmen are not only liable to give an account of what they say or do in public; but there is a busy enquiry made into their very meals, beds, marriages, and every either sportive or serious action. For what need we speak of Alcibiades, who, being of all men the most active in public affairs, and withal an invincible commander, perished by his irregularity in living and his audaciousness, and who by his luxury and prodigality rendered the state unbenefited by all his other good qualities?—since the Athenians blamed Cimon’s wine; the Romans, having nothing else to cavil at, found fault with Scipio’s sleeping; and the enemies of Pompey the Great, having observed that he scratched his head with one finger, upbraided him with it. For as a freckle or wart in the face is more prejudicial than stains, maims, and scars in the rest of the body; so little faults, discerned in the lives of princes and statesmen, appear great, through an opinion most men have conceived of government and policy, which they look on as a great and excellent thing, and such as ought to be pure from all absurdity and imperfection. Therefore not unjustly is Livius Drusus commended, who, when several parts of his house lay open to the view of his neighbors, being told by a certain workman that he would for the expense only of five talents alter and remedy that fault, said: I will give thee indeed ten, to make my whole house so transparent that all the city may see how I live. For he was a temperate and modest man. And yet perhaps he had no need of this perspicuity; for many persons pry into those manners, counsels, actions, and lives of statesmen which seem to be most deeply concealed, no less loving and admiring one, and hating and despising another, for their private than for their public transactions. What then! perhaps you may say: Do not cities make use also of such men as live dissolutely and effeminately? True; for as women with child frequently long for stones and chalk, as those that are stomach-sick do for salt-fish and such other meats, which a little after they spit out again and reject; so also the people sometimes through wantonness and petulancy, and sometimes for want of better guides, make use of those that come first to hand, though at the same time detesting and contemning them, and after rejoice at such things spoken against them as the comedian Plato makes the people themselves to say,

Quick, take me by the hand, and hold me fast, Or I’ll Agyrrius captain choose in haste.

And again he brings them in, calling for a basin and feather that they may vomit, and saying,

A chamber-pot by my tribunal stands.

And a little after,

It feeds a stinking pest, foul Cephalus.

And the Roman people, when Carbo promised them something, and (to confirm it) added an oath and execration, unanimously swore on the contrary that they would not believe him. And in Lacedaemon, when a certain dissolute man named Demosthenes had delivered a very convenient opinion, the people rejected it; but the Ephori, who approved of his advice, having chosen by lot one of the ancient senators, commanded him to repeat the same discourse, pouring it (as it were) out of a filthy vessel into a clean one, that it might be acceptable to the multitude. Of so great moment either way in political affairs is the belief conceived of a person’s disposition and manners.

5. Yet are we not therefore so to lay the whole stress on virtue, as utterly to neglect all gracefulness and efficacy of speech; but esteeming rhetoric, though not the worker, yet a coadjutor and forwarder of persuasion, we should correct that saying of Menander,

The speaker’s manners, not his speech, persuade.

For both manners and language ought to concur, unless any one forsooth shall say that—as it is the pilot who steers the ship, and not the rudder, and the rider that turns the horse, and not the bridle—so political virtue, using not eloquence but manners as an helm and bridle, persuades and guides a city, which is (to speak with Plato) an animal most easy to be turned, managing and directing it (as it were) from the poop. For since those great and (as Homer calls them) Jove-begotten kings, setting themselves out with their purple, sceptres, guards, and the very oracles of the Gods, and subjecting to them by their majesty the multitude, as if they were of a better nature and more excellent mould than other men, desired also to be eloquent orators, and neglected neither the gracefulness of speech,

Nor public meeting, that more perfect they Might be for feats of war,[48]

not only venerating Jupiter the counsellor, Mars the slaughterer, and Pallas the warrior, but invocating also Calliope,

Who still attends on regal Majesty,[49]

by her persuasive oratory appeasing and moderating the fierceness and violence of the people; how is it possible that a private man in a plebeian garb and with a vulgar mien, undertaking to conduct a city, should ever be able to prevail over and govern the multitude, if he is not endowed with alluring and all-persuading eloquence? The captains indeed and pilots of ships make use of others to deliver their commands; but a statesman ought to have in himself not only a spirit of government, but also a commanding faculty of speech, that he may not stand in need of another’s voice, nor be constrained to say, as did Iphicrates when he was run down by the eloquence of Aristophon, “My adversaries have the better actors, but mine is the more excellent play,” nor yet be often obliged to make use of these words of Euripides,

O that the race of miserable men Were speechless!

and again,

Alas! Why have not men’s affairs a tongue, That those fine pleaders who of right make wrong Might be no longer in request?[50]

For to these evasions perhaps might an Alcamenes, a Nesiotes, an Ictinus, and any such mechanical persons as get their bread by their hands, be permitted on their oath to have recourse. As it sometime happened in Athens, where, when two architects were examined about the erecting a certain public work, one of them, who was of a free and voluble speech and had his tongue (as we say) well hung, making a long and premeditated harangue concerning the method and order of raising such a fabric, greatly moved the people; but the other, who was indeed the better workman though the worse speaker, coming forth into the midst, only said, “Ye men of Athens, what this man has spoken, I will do.” For those men venerate only Minerva surnamed Ergane (or the Artisan), who, as Sophocles says of them,

Do on the massy anvil lay A lifeless iron bar, where they With blows of heavy hammer make It pliant to the work they undertake.

But the prophet or minister of Minerva Polias (that is, the protectress of cities) and of Themis (or Justice) the counsellor,

Who both convenes assemblies, and again Dissolves them,[51]

making use of no other instrument but speech, does, by forming and fashioning some things and smoothing and polishing others that, like certain knots in timber or flaws in iron, are averse to his work, embellish and adorn a city. By this means the government of Pericles was in name (as Thucydides[52] says) a democracy, but in effect the rule of one principal man through the power of his eloquence. For there were living at the same time Cimon, and also Ephialtes and Thucydides,[53] all good men; now Thucydides, being asked by Archidamus, king of the Spartans, whether himself or Pericles were the better wrestler, thus answered: “That is not easily known; for when I in wrestling overthrow him, he, by his words persuading the spectators that he did not fall, gains the victory.” And this did not only bring glory to himself, but safety also to the city; for being persuaded by him, it preserved the happiness it had gotten, and abstained from intermeddling with foreign affairs. But Nicias, though having the same design, yet falling short in the art of persuasion, when he endeavored by his speech, as by a gentle curb, to restrain and turn the people, could not compass it or prevail with them, but was fain to depart, being violently hurried and dragged (as it were) by the neck and shoulders into Sicily. They say, that a wolf is not to be held by the ears; but a people and city are chiefly to be drawn by the ears, and not as some do who, being unpractised in eloquence, seek other absurd and unartificial ways of taking them, and either draw them by the belly, making them feasts and banquets, or by the purse, bestowing on them gifts and largesses, or by the eye, exhibiting to them masks and prizes or public shows of dancers and fencers,—by which they do not so much lead as cunningly catch the people. For to lead a people is to persuade them by reason and eloquence; but such allurements of the multitude nothing differ from the baits laid for the taking of irrational animals.

X. DINARCHUS. (part 2)

6. Let not yet the speech of a statesman be youthful and theatrical, as if he were making an harangue composed, like a garland, of curious and florid words; nor again—as Pytheas said of an oration made by Demosthenes, that it smelt of the lamp and sophistical curiosity—let it consist of over-subtle arguments and periods, exactly framed by rule and compass. But as musicians require that the strings of their instruments should be sweetly and gently touched, and not rudely thrummed or beaten; so in the speech of a statesman, both when he counsels and when he commands, there should not appear either violence or cunning, nor should he think himself worthy of commendation for having spoken formally, artificially, and with an exact observation of punctualities; but his whole discourse ought to be full of ingenuous simplicity, true magnanimity, fatherly freedom, and careful providence and understanding, joined with goodness and honesty, gracefulness and attraction, proceeding from grave expressions and proper and persuasive sentences. Now a political oration does much more properly than a juridical one admit of sententious speeches, histories, fables, and metaphors, by which those who moderately and seasonably use them exceedingly move their hearers; as he did who said, Make not Greece one-eyed; and Demades, when he affirmed of himself, that he was to manage the wreck of the state; and Archilochus, when he said

Nor let the stone of Tantalus Over this isle hang always thus;

and Pericles, when he commanded the eyesore[54] of the Piraeus to be taken away; and Phocion, when he pronounced of Leosthenes’s victory, that the beginning or the short course of the war was good, but that he feared the long race that was to follow. But in general, majesty and greatness more benefit a political discourse, a pattern of which may be the Philippics, and (amongst the orations set down by Thucydides) that of Sthenelaidas the Ephor, that of Archidamus at Plataea, and that of Pericles after the plague. But as for those rhetorical flourishes and harangues of Ephorus, Theopompus, and Anaximenes, which they made after they had armed and set in order the battalions, it may be said of them,

None talks thus foolishly so near the sword.[55]

7. Nevertheless, both taunts and raillery may sometimes be part of political discourse, so they proceed not to injury or scurrility, but are usefully spoken by him who either reprehends or scoffs. But these things seem most to be allowed in answers and replies. For in that manner to begin a discourse as if one had purposely prepared himself for it, is the part of a common jester, and carries with it an opinion of maliciousness; as was incident to the biting jests of Cicero, Cato the Elder, and Euxitheus, an intimate acquaintance of Aristotle,—all of whom frequently began first to jeer; but in him, who does it only in revenge, the seasonableness of it renders it not only pardonable but also graceful. Such was the answer of Demosthenes, when one that was suspected of thievery derided him for writing by night: I know that the keeping my candle burning all night is offensive to you. So when Demades bawled out, Demosthenes forsooth would correct me: thus would the sow (as the proverb has it) teach Minerva;—That Minerva, replied Demosthenes, was not long since taken in adultery. Not ungraceful also was that of Xenaenetus to those citizens who upbraided him with flying when he was general, ’Twas with you, my dear hearts. But in raillery great care is to be taken for the avoiding of excess, and of any thing that may either by its unseasonableness offend the hearers or show the speaker to be of an ungenerous and sordid disposition;—such as were the sayings of Democrates. For he, going up into the assembly, said that, like the city, he had little force but much wind; and after the overthrow at Chaeronea, going forth to the people, he said: I would not have had the state to be in so ill a condition that you should be contented to hear me also giving you counsel. For this showed a mean-spirited person, as the other did a madman; but neither of them was becoming a statesman. Now the succinctness of Phocion’s speech was admired; whence Polyeuctus affirmed, that Demosthenes was the greatest orator, but that Phocion spake most forcibly, for that his discourse did in very few words contain abundance of matter. And Demosthenes, who contemned others, was wont, when Phocion stood up, to say, The hatchet (or pruning-knife) of my orations arises.

8. Let your chief endeavor therefore be, to use to the multitude a premeditated and not empty speech, and that with safety, knowing that Pericles himself, before he made any discourse to the people, was wont to pray that there might not a word pass from him foreign to the business he was to treat of. It is requisite also, that you have a voluble tongue, and be exercised in speaking on all occurrences; for occasions are quick, and bring many sudden things in political affairs. Wherefore also Demosthenes was, as they say, inferior to many, withdrawing and absconding himself when sudden occasion offered. And Theophrastus relates that Alcibiades, desirous to speak not only what he ought but as he ought, often hesitated and stood still in the midst of his speech, seeking and composing expressions fit for his purpose. But he who, as matters and occasions present themselves, rises up to speak, most of all moves, leads, and disposes of the multitude. Thus Leo Byzantius came to make an harangue to the Athenians, being then at dissension amongst themselves; by whom when he perceived himself to be laughed at for the littleness of his stature, What would you do, said he, if you saw my wife, who scarce reaches up to my knees? And the laughter thereupon increasing, Yet, went he on, as little as we are, when we fall out with one another, the city of Byzantium is not big enough to hold us. So Pytheas the orator, who declaimed against the honors decreed to Alexander, when one said to him, Dare you, being so young, discourse of so great matters? made this answer, And yet Alexander, whom you decree to be a God, is younger than I am.

9. It is requisite also for the champion of the commonweal to bring to this not slight but all-concerning contest a firm and solid speech, attended with a strong habit of voice and a long lasting breath, lest, being tired and spent with speaking, he chance to be overcome by

Some ravening crier, with a roaring voice, Loud as Cycloborus.[56]

Cato, when he had no hopes of persuading the people or senate, whom he found prepossessed by the courtships and endeavors of the contrary party, was wont to rise up and hold them a whole day with an oration, by that means depriving his adversaries of their opportunity. And thus much concerning the preparation and use of speech may be sufficient for him who can of himself find out and add what necessarily follows from it.

10. There are, moreover, two avenues or ways of entering into the government of the state; the one short and expeditious to the lustre of glory, but not without danger; the other more obscure and slow, but having also greater security. For some there are who, beginning with some great and illustrious action which requires a courageous boldness, do, like to those that from a far extended promontory launch forth into the deep, steer directly into the very midst of public affairs, thinking Pindar to have been in the right when he said,

If you a stately fabric do design, Be sure that your work’s front with lustre shine.[57]

For the multitude do, through a certain satiety and loathing of those to whom they have been accustomed, more readily receive a beginner; as the beholders do a fresh combatant, and as those dignities and authorities which have a splendid and speedy increase dazzle and astonish envy. For neither does that fire, as Ariston says, make a smoke, nor that glory breed envy, which suddenly and quickly shines forth; but of those who grow up slowly and by degrees, some are attacked on this side, others on that; whence many have withered away about the tribunal, before ever they came to flourish. But when, as they say of Ladas,

The sound o’ th’ rope[58] yet rattled in his ear, When Ladas having finished his career Was crowned,

any one suddenly and gloriously performs an embassy, triumphs, or leads forth an army, neither the envious nor the disdainful have like power over him as over others. Thus did Aratus ascend to glory, making the overthrow of the tyrant Nicocles his first step to the management of the commonweal. Thus did Alcibiades, settling the alliance with the Mantineans against the Lacedaemonians. Pompey also required a triumph, being not yet admitted into the senate; and when Sylla opposed it, he said to him, More adore the rising than the setting sun; which when Sylla heard, he yielded to him. And the people of Rome on a sudden, contrary to the ordinary course of the law, declared Cornelius Scipio consul, when he stood candidate for the aedileship, not from any vulgar reason, but admiring the victory he had got, whilst he was but a youth, in a single combat fought in Spain, and his conquests a little after, performed at Carthage, when he was a tribune of foot; in respect of which Cato the Elder cried out with a loud voice,

He only’s wise, the rest like shadows fly.[59]

Now then, since the affairs of the cities have neither wars to be managed, tyrannies to be overthrown, nor leagues and alliances to be treated, what can any one undertake for the beginning of an illustrious and splendid government? There are yet left public causes and embassies to the emperor, which require the courage and prudence of an acute and cautious person. There are also in the cities many good and laudable usages neglected, which may be restored, and many ill practices brought in by custom, to the disgrace or damage of the city, which may be redressed, to gain him the esteem of the people. Moreover, a great suit rightly determined, fidelity in defending a poor man’s cause against a powerful adversary, and freedom of speech in behalf of justice to some unjust nobleman, have afforded some a glorious entrance into the administration of the state. Not a few also have been advanced by enmity and quarrels, having set themselves to attack such men whose dignity was either envied or terrible. For the power of him that is overthrown does with greater glory accrue to his overthrower. Indeed, through envy to contend against a good man, and one that has by virtue been advanced to the chiefest honor,—as Simmias did against Pericles, Alcmaeon against Themistocles, Clodius against Pompey, and Meneclides the orator against Epaminondas,—is neither good for one’s reputation nor otherwise advantageous. For when the multitude, having outraged some good man, soon after (as it frequently happens) repent of their indignation, they think that way of excusing this offence the easiest which is indeed the justest, to wit, the destroying of him who was the persuader and author of it. But the rising up to humble and pull down a wicked person, who has by his audaciousness and cunning subjected the city to himself (such as heretofore Cleon and Clitophon were in Athens), makes a glorious entrance to the management of public affairs, as it were to a play. I am not ignorant also that some, by opposing—as Ephialtes did at Athens, and Phormio amongst the Eleans—an imperious and oligarchical senate, have at the same time obtained both authority and honor; but in this there is great danger to him who is but entering upon the administration of state. Wherefore Solon took a better beginning; for the city of Athens being divided into three parts, the Diacrians (or inhabitants of the hill), the Pedieans (or dwellers on the plain), and the Paralians (or those whose abode was by the water side), he, joining himself with none of them, but acting for the common good of them all, and saying and doing all things for to bring them to concord, was chosen the lawgiver to take away their differences, and by that means settled the state.

Such then and so many beginnings has the more splendid way of entering upon state affairs.

11. But many gallant men have chosen the safe and slow method, as Aristides, Phocion, Pammenes the Theban, Lucullus in Rome, Cato, and Agesilaus the Lacedaemonian. For as ivy, twining about the strongest trees, rises up together with them; so every one of these, applying himself, whilst he was yet young and inglorious, to some elder and illustrious personage, and growing up and increasing by little and little under his authority, grounded and rooted himself in the commonweal. For Clisthenes advanced Aristides, Chabrias preferred Phocion, Sylla promoted Lucullus, Maximus raised Cato, Pammenes forwarded Epaminondas, and Lysander assisted Agesilaus. But this last, injuring his own reputation through an unseasonable ambition and jealousy, soon threw off the director of his actions; but the rest honestly, politically, and to the end, venerated and magnified the authors of their advancement,—like bodies which are opposed to the sun,—by reflecting back the light that shone upon them, augmented and rendered more illustrious. Certainly those who looked asquint upon Scipio called him the player, and his companion Laelius the poet or author of his actions; yet was not Laelius puffed up by any of these things, but continued to promote the virtue and glory of Scipio. And Afranius, the friend of Pompey, though he was very meanly descended, yet being at the very point to be chosen consul, when he understood that Pompey favored others, gave over his suit, saying that his obtaining the consulship would not be so honorable as grievous and troublesome to him, if it were against the good-will and without the assistance of Pompey. Having therefore delayed but one year, he enjoyed the dignity and preserved his friendship. Now those who are thus by others led, as it were, by the hand to glory do, in gratifying one, at the same time also gratify the multitude, and incur less odium, if any inconvenience befalls them. Wherefore also Philip (king of Macedon) exhorted his son Alexander, whilst he had leisure during the reign of another, to get himself friends, winning their love by kind and affable behavior.

12. Now he that begins to enter upon the administration of state affairs should choose himself a guide, who is not only a man of credit and authority but is also such for his virtue. For as it is not every tree that will admit and bear the twining of a vine, there being some which utterly choke and spoil its growth; so in states, those who are no lovers of virtue and goodness, but only of honor and sovereignty, afford not young beginners any opportunities of performing worthy actions, but do through envy keep them down and let them languish whom they regard as depriving them of their glory, which is (as it were) their food. Thus Marius, having first in Afric and afterwards in Galatia done many gallant exploits by the assistance of Sylla, forbare any farther to employ him, and utterly cast him off, being really vexed at his growing into repute, but making his pretence the device engraven on his seal. For Sylla, being paymaster under Marius when he was general in Afric, and sent by him to Bocchus, brought with him Jugurtha prisoner; but as he was an ambitious young man, who had but just tasted the sweetness of glory, he received not his good fortune with moderation; but having caused the representation of the action to be engraven on his seal, wore about him Jugurtha delivered into his hands; and this did Marius lay to his charge, when he turned him off. But Sylla, passing over to Catulus and Metellus, who were good men and at difference with Marius, soon after in a civil war drove away and ruined Marius, who wanted but little of overthrowing Rome. Sylla indeed, on the contrary, advanced Pompey from a very youth, rising up to him and uncovering his head as he passed by, and not only giving other young men occasions of doing captain-like actions, but even instigating some that were backward and unwilling. He filled the armies with emulation and desire of honor; and thus he had the superiority over them all, desiring not to be alone, but the first and greatest amongst many great ones. These therefore are the men to whom young statesmen ought to adhere, and with these they should be (as it were) incorporated, not stealing from them their glory,—like Aesop’s wren, which, being carried up on the eagle’s wings, suddenly flew away and got before her,—but receiving it of them with friendship and good-will, since they can never, as Plato says, be able to govern aright, if they have not been first well practised in obedience.

13. After this follows the judgment that is to be had in the choice of friends, in which neither the opinion of Themistocles nor that of Cleon is to be approved. For Cleon, when he first knew that he was to take on him the government, assembling his friends together, brake off friendship with them, as that which often disables the mind, and withdraws it from its just and upright intention in managing the affairs of the state. But he would have done better, if he had cast out of his soul avarice and contention, and cleansed himself from envy and malice. For cities want not men that are friendless and unaccompanied, but such as are good and temperate. Now he indeed drove away his friends; but a hundred heads of fawning flatterers were, as the comedian speaks, licking about him;[60] and being harsh and severe to those that were civil, he again debased himself to court the favor of the multitude, doing all things to humor them in their dotage, and taking rewards at every man’s hand,[61] and joining himself with the worst and most distempered of the people against the best. But Themistocles, on the contrary, said to one who told him that he would govern well if he exhibited himself alike to all: May I never sit on that throne on which my friends shall not have more power with me than those who are not my friends. Neither did he well in pinning the state to his friendship, and submitting the common and public affairs to his private favors and affections. And farther, he said to Simonides, when he requested somewhat that was not just: Neither is he a good poet or musician, who sings against measure; nor he an upright magistrate, who gratifies any one against the laws. And it would really be a shameful and miserable thing, that the pilot should choose his mariners, and the master of a ship the pilot,

Who well can rule the helm, and in good guise Hoist up the sails, when winds begin to rise,

and that an architect should make choice of such servants and workmen as will not prejudice his work, but take pains in the best manner to forward it; but that a statesman—who, as Pindar has it,

The best of artists and chief workman is Of equity and justice—

should not presently choose himself like-affected friends and ministers, and such as might co-inspire into him a love of honesty; but that one or other should be always unjustly and violently bending him to other uses. For then he would seem to differ in nothing from a carpenter or mason who, through ignorance or want of experience, uses such squares, rules, and levels as will certainly make his work to be awry. Since friends are the living and intelligent instruments of statesmen, who ought to be so far from bearing them company in their slips and transgressions, that they must be careful they do not, even unknown to them, commit a fault.

And this it was, that disgraced Solon and brought him into disrepute amongst his citizens; for he, having an intention to ease men’s debts and to bring in that which was called at Athens the Seisachtheia (for that was the name given by way of extenuation to the cancelling of debts), communicated this design to some of his friends, who thereupon did a most unjust act; for having got this inkling, they borrowed abundance of money, and the law being a little after brought to light, they appeared to have purchased stately houses, and great store of land with the wealth they had borrowed; and Solon, who was himself injured, was accused to have been a partaker of their injustice. Agesilaus also was most feeble and mean-spirited in what concerned the suits of his friends, being like the horse Pegasus in Euripides,

Who, frighted, bowed his back, more than his rider would,[62]

so that, being more ready to help them in their misfortunes than was requisite, he seemed to be privy to their injustices. For he saved Phoebidas, who was accused for having without commission surprised the castle of Thebes, called Cadmea, saying that such enterprises were to be attempted without expecting any orders. And when Sphodrias was brought to trial for an unlawful and heinous act, having made an incursion into Attica at such time as the Athenians were allies and confederates of the Spartans, he procured him to be acquitted, being softened by the amorous entreaties of his son. There is also recorded a short epistle of his to a certain prince, written in these words: If Nicias is innocent, discharge him; if he is guilty, discharge him for my sake; but however it is, discharge him. But Phocion (on the contrary) would not so much as appear in behalf of his son-in-law Charicles, when he was accused for having taken money of Harpalus; but having said, Only for acts of justice have I made you my son-in-law,—went his way. And Timoleon the Corinthian, when he could not by admonitions or requests dissuade his brother from being a tyrant, confederated with his destroyers. For a magistrate ought not to be a friend even to the altar (or till he comes to the point of being forsworn), as Pericles sometime said, but no farther than is agreeable to all law, justice, and the utility of the state; any of which being neglected brings a great and public damage, as did the not executing of justice on Sphodrias and Phoebidas, who did not a little contribute to the engaging of Sparta in the Leuctrian war.

Otherwise, reason of state is so far from necessitating one to show himself severe on every peccadillo of his friends, that it even permits him, when he has secured the principal affairs of the public, to assist them, stand by them, and labor for them. There are, moreover, certain favors that may be done without envy, as is the helping a friend to obtain an office, or rather the putting into his hands some honorable commission or some laudable embassy, such as for the congratulating or honoring some prince or the making a league of amity and alliance with some state. But if there be some difficult but withal illustrious and great action to be performed, having first taken it upon himself, he may afterwards assume a friend to his assistance, as did Diomedes, whom Homer makes to speak in this manner:

Since a companion you will have me take, How can I think a better choice to make, Than the divine Ulysses?[63]

And Ulysses again as kindly attributes to him the praise of the achievement, saying:

These stately steeds, whose country you demand, Nestor, were hither brought from Thracian land, Whose king, with twelve of his best friends, lies dead, All slain by th’ hand of warlike Diomed.[64]

For this sort of concession no less adorns the praiser than the praised; but self-conceitedness, as Plato says, dwells with solitude. He ought moreover to associate his friends in those good and kind offices which are done by him, bidding those whom he has benefited to love them and give them thanks, as having been the procurers and counsellors of his favors to them. But he must reject the dishonest and unreasonable request of his friends, yet not churlishly but mildly, teaching and showing them that they are not beseeming their virtue and honor. Never was any man better at this than Epaminondas, who, having denied to deliver out of prison a certain victualler, when requested by Pelopidas, and yet a little after dismissing him at the desire of his miss, said to his friend, These, O Pelopidas, are favors fit for wenches to receive, and not for generals. Cato on the other side acted morosely and insolently, when Catulus the censor, his most intimate and familiar friend, interceded with him for one of those against whom he, being quaestor, had entered process, saying: It would be a shame if you, who ought to reform young men for us, should be thrust out by our servants. For he might, though in effect refusing the requested favor, have yet forborne that severity and bitterness of speech; so that his doing what was displeasing to his friend might have seemed not to have proceeded from his own inclination, but to have been a necessity imposed upon him by law and justice. There are also in the administration of the state methods, not dishonorable, of assisting our poorer friends in the making of their fortune. Thus did Themistocles, who, seeing after a battle one of those which lay dead in the field adorned with chains of gold and jewels, did himself pass by him; but turning back to a friend of his, said, Do you take these spoils, for you are not yet come to be Themistocles. For even the affairs themselves do frequently afford a statesman such opportunities of benefiting his friends; for every man is not a Menemachus. To one therefore give the patronage of a cause, both just and beneficial; to another recommend some rich man, who stands in need of management and protection; and help a third to be employed in some public work, or to some gainful and profitable farm. Epaminondas bade a friend of his go to a certain rich man, and ask him for a talent by the command of Epaminondas, and when he to whom the message was sent came to enquire the reason of it; Because, said Epaminondas, he is a very honest man and poor; but you, by converting much of the city’s wealth to your own use, are become rich. And Xenophon reports, that Agesilaus delighted in enriching his friends, himself making no account of money.

14. Now since, as Simonides says, all larks must have a crest, and every eminent office in a commonweal brings enmities and dissensions, it is not a little convenient for a statesman to be forewarned also of his comportment in these rencounters. Many therefore commend Themistocles and Aristides, who, when they were to go forth on an embassy or to command together the army, laid down their enmity at the confines of the city, taking it up again after their return. Some again are highly pleased with the action of Cretinas the Magnesian. He, having for his rival in the government one Hermias, a man not powerful and rich, but ambitious and high-spirited, when the Mithridatic war came on, seeing the city in danger, desired Hermias either to take the government upon himself and manage the affairs whilst he retired, or, if he would have him take the command of the army, to depart himself immediately, lest they should through their ambitious contention destroy the city. The proposal pleased Hermias, who, saying that Cretinas was a better soldier than himself, did with his wife and children quit the city. Cretinas then escorted him as he went forth, furnishing him out of his own estate with all such things as are more useful to those that fly from home than to those that are besieged; and excellently defending the city, unexpectedly preserved it, being at the point to be destroyed. For if it is generous and proceeding from a magnanimous spirit to cry out,

I love my children, but my country more,

why should it not be readier for every one of them to say, I hate this man, and desire to do him a diskindness, but the love of my country has greater power over me? For not to condescend to be reconciled to an enemy for those very causes for which we ought to abandon even a friend, is even to extremity savage and brutish. But far better did Phocion and Cato, who grounded not any enmity at all on their political differences, but being fierce and obstinate only in their public contests not to recede from any thing they judged convenient for the state, did in their private affairs use those very persons friendly and courteously from whom they differed in the other. For one ought not to esteem any citizen an enemy, unless it be one like Aristion, Nabis, or Catiline, the disease and plague of the city: but as for those that are otherwise at discord, a good magistrate should, like a skilful musician, by gently setting them up or letting them down, bring them to concord; not falling angrily and reproachfully upon those that err, but mildly reprehending them in such like terms as these of Homer’s,

Good friend, I thought you wiser than the rest;[65]

and again,

You could have told a better tale than this;[66]

nor yet repining at their honors, or sparing to speak freely in commendation of their good actions, if they say or do any thing advantageous to the public. For thus will our reprehension, when it is requisite, be credited, and we shall render them averse to vice, increasing their virtue, and showing, by comparing them, how much the one is more worthy and beseeming them than the other.

But I indeed am also of opinion, that a statesman should in just causes give testimony to his enemies, stand by them when they are accused by sycophants, and discredit imputations brought against them if they are repugnant to their characters; as Nero himself, a little before he put to death Thraseas, whom of all men he both most hated and feared, when one accused him for giving a wrong and unjust sentence, said: I wish Thraseas was but as great a lover of me, as he is a most upright judge. Neither is it amiss for the daunting of others who are by Nature more inclined to vice, when they offend, to make mention of some enemy of theirs who is better behaved, and say, Such a one would not have spoken or acted thus. And some again, when they transgress, are to be put in mind of their virtuous progenitors. Thus Homer says,

Tydeus has left a son unlike himself.[67]

And Appius, contending in the Comitia with Scipio Africanus, said, How deeply, O Paulus, wouldst thou sigh amongst the infernal shades, wert thou but sensible that Philonicus the publican guards thy son, who is going to stand for the office of censor. For such manner of speeches do both admonish the offender, and become their admonishers. Nestor also in Sophocles, being reproached by Ajax, thus politicly answers him:

I blame you not, for you act well, although You speak but ill.

And Cato, who had opposed Pompey in his joining with Caesar to force the city, when they fell to open wars, gave his opinion that the conduct of the state should be committed to Pompey, saying, that those who are capable to do the greatest mischiefs are fittest to put a stop to them. For reprehension mixed with praise, and accompanied not with opprobriousness but liberty of speech, working not animosity but remorse and repentance, appears both kind and salutary; but railing expressions do not at all beseem statesmen. Do but look into the speeches of Demosthenes against Aeschines, and of Aeschines against him; and again into what Hyperides has written against Demades, and consider whether Solon, Pericles, Lycurgus the Lacedaemonian, or Pittacus the Lesbian would have spoken in that manner. And yet Demosthenes used this reproachful manner of speaking only in his juridical orations or pleadings; for his Philippics are clean and free from all scoffing and scurrility. For such discourses do not only more disgrace the speakers than the hearers, but do moreover breed confusion in affairs, and disturb counsels and assemblies. Wherefore Phocion did excellently well, who, having broken off his speech to give way to one that railed against him, when the other with much ado held his peace, going on again where he had left off, said: You have already heard what has been spoken of horsemen and heavy armed foot; I am now to treat of such as are light armed and targeteers.

But since many persons can hardly contain themselves on such occasions, and since railers have often their mouths not impertinently stopped by replies; let the answer be short and pithy, not showing any indignation or bitterness of anger, but mildness joined with raillery and gracefulness, yet somewhat tart and biting. Now such especially are the retortings of what has been spoken before. For as darts returning against their caster seem to have been repulsed and beaten back by a certain strength and solidity in that against which they were thrown; so what was spoken seems by the strength and understanding of the reproached to have been turned back upon the reproacher. Such was that reply of Epaminondas to Callistratus, who upbraided the Thebans with Oedipus, and the Argives with Orestes,—one of which had killed his father and the other his mother,—Yet they who did these things, being rejected by us, were received by you. Such also was the repartee of Antalcidas the Spartan to an Athenian, who said to him, We have often driven you back and pursued you from the Cephissus; But we (replied Antalcidas) never yet pursued you from the Eurotas. Phocion also, when Demades cried out, The Athenians if they grow mad, will kill thee; elegantly replied, And thee, if they come again to their wits. So, when Domitius said to Crassus the orator, Did not you weep for the death of the lamprey you kept in your fish-pond?—Did not you, said Crassus to him again, bury three wives without ever shedding a tear? These things therefore have indeed their use also in other parts of a man’s life.

15. Moreover, some, like Cato, thrust themselves into every part of polity, thinking a good citizen should not omit any care or industry for the obtaining authority. And these men greatly commend Epaminondas; for that being by the Thebans through envy and in contempt appointed telearch, he did not reject it, but said, that the office does not show the man, but the man also the office. He brought the telearchate into great and venerable repute, which was before nothing but a certain charge of the carrying the dung out of the narrow streets and lanes of the city, and turning of watercourses. Nor do I doubt but that I myself afford matter of laughter to many who come into this our city, being frequently seen in public employed about such matters. But that comes into my assistance which is related of Antisthenes; for, when one wondered to see him carry a piece of stock-fish through the market, ’Tis for myself, said he. But I, on the contrary, say to those who upbraid me for being present at and overseeing the measuring of tiles, or the bringing in and unloading of clay and stones: It is not for myself, but for my country, that I perform this service. For though he who in his own person manages and does many such things for himself may be judged mean-spirited and mechanical, yet if he does them for the public and for his country, he is not to be deemed sordid; but on the contrary, his diligence and readiness, extending even to these small matters, is to be esteemed greater and more highly to be valued. But others there are, that hold Pericles’s manner of acting to have been more magnanimous and august; amongst which Critolaus the Peripatetic, who is of opinion that, as at Athens the Salaminian ship and the Paralus were not launched forth for every service, but only on necessary and great occasions, so a statesman ought to employ himself in the chiefest and greatest affairs, like the King of the universe, who, as Euripides says,

Reserves great things for his own government, But small things leaves to Fortune’s management.

For neither do we approve the excessively ambitious and contentious spirit of Theagenes, who, having obtained the victory not only through the whole course of public games, but also in many other contests, and not only in wrestling but in buffeting and running of long races, at last, being at the anniversary festival supper of a certain hero, after every one was served, according to the custom, he started up, and fell to wrestling, as if it were necessary that no other should conquer when he was present; whence he got together twelve hundred coronets, most of which one would have taken for rubbish.

Now nothing do they differ from him, who strip themselves for every public affair, and render themselves reprehensible by many, becoming troublesome, and being, when they do well, the subject of envy, and when they do ill, of rejoicing. And that industry which was at the beginning admired turns afterwards to contempt and laughter. In this manner it was said; Metiochus leads forth the army, Metiochus oversees the highways, Metiochus bakes the bread, Metiochus bolts the meal, Metiochus does all things, Metiochus shall suffer for it at last. This Metiochus was a follower of Pericles, and made use, it seems, of the power he had with him invidiously and disdainfully. For a statesman ought to find the people when he comes to them (as they say) in love with him, and leave in them a longing after him when he is absent; which course Scipio Africanus also took, dwelling a long time in the country, at the same time both removing from himself the burthen of envy, and giving those leisure to breathe, who seemed to be oppressed by his glory. But Timesias the Clazomenian, who was otherwise a good commonwealths-man, was ignorant of his being envied and hated for doing all things by himself, till the following accident befell him. It happened that, as he passed by where certain boys were striking a cockal-bone out of an hole, some of them said, that the bone was still left within; but he who had stricken it cried out, I wish I had as certainly beaten out Timesias’s brains, as this bone is out of the hole. Timesias, hearing this, and thereby understanding the envy and spite borne him by every one, returned home, where he imparted the matter to his wife, and having commanded her to pack up all and follow him, immediately left both his house and the city. And Themistocles seems to have been in some such condition amongst the Athenians, when he said: How is it, O ye blessed ones, that you are tired with the frequent receiving of benefits?

Now some of those things have indeed been rightly spoken, others not so well. For a statesman ought not to withdraw his affection and providential care from any public affair whatever, nor reserve himself sacred, like the anchor in a ship, for the last necessities and hazards of the state. But as the masters of ships do some things with their own hands, and perform others, sitting afar off, by other instruments, turning and winding them by the hands of others, and making use of mariners; boatswains, and mates, some of which they often call to the stern, putting the helm into their hands; so it is convenient for a statesman sometimes to yield the command to his companions, and to invite them kindly and civilly to the tribunal, not managing all the affairs of the commonweal by his own speeches, decrees, and actions, but having good and faithful men, to employ every one of them in that proper and peculiar station which he finds to be most suitable for him. Thus Pericles used Menippus for the conduct of the armies, by Ephialtes he humbled the council of the Areopagus, by Charinus he passed the law against the Megarians, and sent Lampon to people the city of Thurii. For not only is the greatness of authority less liable to be envied by the people, when it seems to be divided amongst many; but the business also is more exactly done. For as the division of the hand into fingers has not weakened it, but rendered it more commodious and instrumental for the uses to which it serves; so he who in the administration of a state gives part of the affairs to others renders the action more efficacious by communicating it. But he who, through an unsatiable desire of glory or power, lays the whole burthen of the state upon his own shoulders, and applies himself to that for which he is neither fitted by nature nor exercise,—as Cleon did to the leading forth of armies, Philopoemen to the commanding of navies, and Hannibal to haranguing the people,—has no excuse for his errors; but hears that of Euripides objected against him,

Thou, but a carpenter, concernd’st thyself With works not wrought in wood;—

being no good orator, you went on an embassage; being of a lazy temper, you thrust yourself into the stewardship; being ignorant in keeping accounts, you would be treasurer; or, being old and infirm, you took on you the command of the army. But Pericles divided his authority with Cimon, reserving to himself the governing within the city, and committing to him the manning of the navy and making war upon the barbarians; for the other was naturally fitted for war, and himself for civil affairs. Eubulus also the Anaphlystian is much commended, that, having credit and authority in matters of the greatest importance, he managed none of the Grecian affairs, nor betook himself to the conducting of the army; but employing himself about the treasure, he augmented the public revenues, and greatly benefited the city by them. But Iphicrates, practising to make declamations at his own house in the presence of many, rendered himself ridiculous; for though he had been no bad orator but an excellently good one, yet ought he to have contented himself with the glory got by arms, and abstaining from the school, to have left it to the sophisters.

16. But since it is incident to every populacy to be malicious and desirous to find fault with their governors, and since they are apt to suspect that many, even useful things, if they pass without being opposed or contradicted, are done by conspiracy, and since this principally brings societies and friendships into obloquy; they must not indeed leave any real enmity or dissension against themselves, as did Onomademus, a demagogue of the Chians, who, having mastered a sedition, suffered not all his adversaries to be expelled the city; lest, said he, we should begin to differ with our friends, when we are wholly freed from our enemies; for this would be indeed a folly. But when the multitude shall have conceived a suspicion against any important beneficial project, they must not, as if it were by confederacy, all deliver the same opinion; but two or three of them must dissent, and mildly oppose their friend, and afterwards, as if they were convinced by reason, change their sentiments; for by this means they draw along with them the people, who think them moved by the beneficialness of the thing. But in small matters, and such as are of no great consequence, it is not amiss to suffer his friends really to differ, every one following his own private reason; that so in the principal and greatest concerns, they may not seem to act upon design, when they shall unanimously agree to what is best.

17. The politician therefore is by nature always the prince of the city, as the king among the bees; and in consideration of this, he ought always to have the helm of public affairs in his hand. But as for those dignities and offices to which persons are nominated and chosen by the suffrages of the people, he should neither too eagerly nor too often pursue them,—the seeking after offices being neither venerable nor popular,—nor yet should he reject them, when the people legally confer them on him and invite him to them, but even though they are below his reputation, he should accept them and willingly employ himself in them; for it is but just that they who have been honored by offices of greater dignity should in return grace those of inferior rank. And in those more weighty and superior employs, such as are the commanding of the armies in Athens, the Prytania in Rhodes, and the Boeotarchy amongst us, he should carry himself with such moderation as to remit and abate something of their grandeur, adding somewhat of dignity and venerableness to those that are meaner and less esteemed, that he may be neither despised for these nor envied for those.

Now it behooves him that enters upon any office, not only to have at hand those arguments of which Pericles put himself in mind when he first received the robe of state: Bethink thyself, Pericles, thou govern’st freemen, thou govern’st Grecians, yea, citizens of Athens; but farther also, he ought to say thus with himself: Thou, being a subject, govern’st a city which is under the obedience of Caesar’s proconsul or lieutenant. Here is no fight in a fair field, this is not the ancient Sardis, nor is this the puissance of the Lydians. Thou must make thy robe scantier, look from the pavilion to the tribunal, and not place too great confidence in thy crown, since thou see’st the Roman’s shoes over thy head. But in this the stage-players are to be imitated, who add indeed to the play their own passionate transports, behavior, and countenance, suitable to the person they represent, but yet give ear to the prompter, and transgress not the rhyme and measures of the faculty granted them by their masters. For an error in government brings not, as in the acting of a tragedy, only hissing and derision; but many have by this means subjected themselves to that

Severe chastiser, the neck-cutting axe.

As it befell your countryman Pardalas, when he forgot the limits of his power. Another, being banished from home and confined to a little island, as Solon has it,

Became at last from an Athenian A Pholegandrian or Sicinitan.

For we laugh indeed, when we see little children endeavoring to fasten their father’s shoes on their own feet, or setting their crowns on their own heads in sport. But the governors of cities, foolishly exhorting the people to imitate those works, achievements, and actions of their ancestors which are not suitable to the present times and affairs, elevate the multitude, and although they do things that are ridiculous, they yet meet with a fate which is not fit to be laughed at, unless they are men altogether despised. For there are many other facts of the ancient Greeks, the recital of which to those who are now living may serve to form and moderate their manners; as would be the relating at Athens, not the warlike exploits of their progenitors, but (for example) the decree of amnesty after the expulsion of the Thirty Tyrants; the fining of Phrynicus, who represented in a tragedy the taking of Miletus; how they wore garlands on their heads when Cassander rebuilt Thebes; how, having intelligence of the Scytalism (or slaughter) at Argos in which the Argives put to death fifteen hundred of their own citizens, they commanded a lustration (or expiatory sacrifice) to be carried about in a full assembly; and how, when they were searching of houses for those that were confederated with Harpalus, they passed by only one, which was inhabited by a man newly married. For by the imitating of such things as these, they may even now resemble their ancestors; but the fights at Marathon, Eurymedon, and Plataea, and whatever examples vainly puff up and heighten the multitude, should be left to the schools of the sophisters.

18. Now a statesman ought not only to exhibit himself and his country blameless to the prince, but also to have always for his friend some one of those that are most powerful above, as a firm support of polity; for the Romans are of such a disposition, that they are most ready to assist their friends in their political endeavors. It is good also, when we have received benefit from friendship with princes, to apply it to the advancement of our country; as did Polybius and Panaetius, who through the favor of Scipio to them greatly advantaged their countries for the obtaining felicity. So Caesar Augustus, when he had taken Alexandria, made his entry into it, holding Arius by the hand, and discoursing with him alone of all his familiars; after which he said to the Alexandrians, who expecting the utmost severity supplicated his favor, that he pardoned them first for the greatness of their city, secondly for its builder, Alexander, and thirdly, added he, to gratify this my friend. Is it then fit to compare to this benefit those exceeding gainful commissions and administrations of provinces, in the pursuit of which many even grow old at other men’s doors, leaving their own domestic affairs in the mean time unregarded? Or should we rather correct Euripides, singing and saying that, if one must watch and sue at another’s court and subject one’s self to some great man’s familiarity, it is most commendable so to do for the sake of one’s country; but otherwise, we should embrace and pursue friendships on equal and just conditions.

19. Yet ought not he who renders and exhibits his country obsequious to potent princes to contribute to the oppressing of it, nor having tied its legs to subject also its neck, as some do who, referring all things both great and little to these potentates, upbraid it with servitude, or rather wholly take away the commonwealth, rendering it astonished, timorous, and without command of any thing. For as those who are accustomed neither to sup nor bathe without the physician do not make so much use of their health as Nature affords them; so they who introduce the prince’s judgment into every decree, council, favor, and administration, necessitate the princes to be more masters of them than they desire. Now the cause of this is principally the avarice and ambition of the chief citizens. For either, by injuring their inferiors, they compel them to fly out of the city; or in such things wherein they differ from one another, disdaining to be worsted by their fellow-citizens, they bring in such as are more powerful, whence both the council, people, courts of judicature, and whole magistracy lose their authority. But he ought to appease private citizens by equality, and mightier men by mutual submissions, so as to keep peace within the commonweal, and coolly to determine their affairs; making for these things, as it were for secret diseases, a certain political medicine, both being himself rather willing to be vanquished amongst his fellow-citizens, than to get the better by the injury and dissolution of his country’s rights, and requesting the same of every one else, and teaching them how great a mischief this obstinacy in contending is. But now, rather than they will with honor and benignity mutually yield to their fellow-citizens, kinsmen, neighbors, and colleagues in office, they do, with no less prejudice than shame, carry forth their dissensions to the doors of the pleaders, and put them into the hands of pragmatical lawyers.

Physicians indeed turn and drive forth into the superficies of the body such diseases as they are not able utterly to extirpate; but a statesman, though he cannot keep a city altogether free from internal troubles, yet should, by concealing its disturbance and sedition, endeavor to cure and compose it, so that it may least stand in need of physicians and medicines from abroad. For the intention of a statesman should be fixed upon the public safety, and should shun, as has been said, the tumultuous and furious motion of vain-glory; and yet in his disposition there should be magnanimity,

And undaunted courage,—as becomes The men, who are for their dear country’s right Prepared till death ’gainst stoutest foes to fight,[68]

and who are bravely resolved, not only to hazard their lives against the assaults of invading enemies, but also to struggle with the most difficult affairs, and stem the torrent of the most dangerous and impetuous times. For as he must not himself be a creator of storms and tempests, so neither must he abandon the ship of the state when they come upon it; and as he ought not to raise commotions and drive it into danger, so is he obliged, when it is tossed and is in peril, to give it his utmost assistance, putting forth all his boldness of speech, as he would throw out a sacred anchor when affairs are at the greatest extremity.

Such were the difficulties that befell the Pergamenians under Nero, and the Rhodians lately under Domitian, and the Thessalians heretofore in the time of Augustus, when they burned Petraeus alive.

You shall not in this case demurring see,[69]

or starting back for fear, any one who is truly a statesman; neither shall you find him accusing others and withdrawing himself out of harm’s way; but you shall have him rather going on embassies, sailing to foreign parts, and not only saying first,

We’re here, Apollo, who the murther wrought, No longer plague our country for our fault,

but also ready to undergo perils and dangers for the multitude, even though he has not been at all partaker of their crime. For this indeed is a gallant action; and besides its honesty, one only man’s virtue and magnanimity has often wonderfully mitigated the anger conceived against a whole multitude, and dissipated the terror and bitterness with which they were threatened. Such an influence with a king of Persia had the deportment of Sperchis and Bulis, two noble Spartans; and equally prevalent was the speech of Stheno with Pompey, when, being about to punish the Mamertines for their defection, he was told by Stheno, that he would not act justly if he should for one guilty person destroy abundance of innocents; for that he himself had caused the revolt of the city, by persuading his friends and forcing his enemies to that attempt. This speech did so dispose Pompey, that he both pardoned the city and courteously treated Stheno. But Sylla’s host, having used the like virtue towards an unlike person, generously ended his days. For when Sylla, having taken the city of Praeneste, determined to put all the rest of the inhabitants to the sword, and to spare only him for the hospitality that had been between them, he, saying that he would not be indebted for his preservation to the destroyer of his country, thrust himself in amongst his fellow-citizens, and was massacred with them. We ought therefore indeed to deprecate such times as these, and hope for better things.

20. Moreover, we should honor, as a great and sacred thing, every magistracy and magistrate. Now the mutual concord and friendship of magistrates with one another is a far greater honor of magistracy than their diadems and purple-garded robes. Now those who lay for a foundation of friendship their having been fellow-soldiers or having spent their youth together, and take their being joint commanders or co-magistrates for a cause of enmity, cannot avoid being guilty of one of these three evils. For either, regarding their colleagues in government as their equals, they brangle with them; or looking on them as their superiors, they envy them; or esteeming them their inferiors, they despise them; whereas, indeed, one ought to court his superior, advance his inferior, honor his equal, and love and embrace all, as having been made friends, not by eating at the same table, drinking in the same cup, or meeting at the same solemn feast, but by a common and public bond, and having in some sort an hereditary benevolence derived from their country. Scipio therefore was ill spoken of in Rome, for that, making a feast for his friends at the dedication of a temple to Hercules, he invited not to it his colleague Mummius; for, though in other things they took not one another for friends, yet in such occurrences as these they should have mutually honored and caressed each other, for the sake of their common magistracy. If then the omission of so small a civility brought Scipio, who was otherwise an admirable man, under a suspicion of arrogancy; how can he who seeks to impair the dignity of his colleague, or to obfuscate the lustre of his actions, or through insolency to draw and attribute all things to himself, taking them wholly from his companion, be esteemed reasonable and moderate? I remember that, when I was yet but a young man, being jointly with another sent on an embassy to the proconsul, and my companion—I know not on what occasion—stopping by the way, I went on alone and performed the affair. Now when at my return I was to render an account of my charge, my father, taking me aside, admonished me not to say I went but We went, not I spoke but We spoke, and so through all the rest to make my report by associating my companion, and rendering him a sharer in my actions. For this is not only decent and courteous, but also takes from glory what is offensive, that is, envy. Whence it is that great men generally co-ascribe their most glorious actions to their Daemon or Fortune; as did Timoleon, who having destroyed the tyrannies in Sicily, consecrated a temple to Chance; and Python, when, being admired and honored by the Athenians for having slain Cotys, he said, God did this, making use of my hand. But Theopompus, king of the Lacedaemonians, when one said that Sparta was preserved because its kings were well skilled in governing, replied: ’Tis rather because the people are well versed in obeying.

21. These two things then are affected by each other; yet most men both say and think that the business of political instruction is to render the people pliable to be governed. For there are in every city more governed than governors, and every one who lives in a democracy rules only a short time, but is subject all his life, so that it is the most excellent and useful lesson we can learn, to obey those who are set over us, though they are less furnished with authority and reputation.

For it is absurd that a Theodorus or a Polus, the principal actor in a tragedy, should often obey a hireling who plays the third part, and speak humbly to him because he wears a diadem and a sceptre; and that in real actions and in the government of the state, a rich and mighty man should undervalue and contemn a magistrate because he is simple and poor, thus injuring and degrading the dignity of the commonweal by his own; whereas he should rather by his own reputation and authority have increased and advanced that of the magistrate. As in Sparta the kings rose up out of their thrones to the ephors, and whoever else was sent for by them did not slowly obey, but running hastily and with speed through the forum, gave a pattern of obedience to his fellow-citizens, whilst he gloried in honoring the magistrates; not like to some ill-bred and barbarous persons, who, priding themselves in the abundance of their power, affront the judges of the public combats, revile the directors of the dances in the Bacchanals, and deride military commanders and these that preside over the exercises of youth, neither knowing nor understanding that to honor is sometimes more glorious than to be honored. For to a man of great authority in a city, his accompanying and attending on the magistrate is a greater grace than if he were himself accompanied and attended on by him; or rather this indeed would bring trouble and envy, but that brings real glory, and such as proceeds from kindness and good-will. And such a man, being seen sometimes at the magistrate’s door, and saluting him first, and giving him the middle place in walking, does, without taking any thing from himself, add ornament to the city.

22. It is also a popular thing and wins greatly on the multitude, to bear patiently the reproaches and indignation of a magistrate, saying either with Diomedes,

Great glory soon will follow this,[70]

or this, which was sometime said by Demosthenes,—that he is not now Demosthenes only, but a magistrate, or a director of public dances, or a wearer of a diadem. Let us therefore lay aside our revenge for a time; for either we shall come upon him when he is dismissed from his office, or shall by delaying gain a cessation of anger.

23. Indeed one should in diligence, providence, and care for the public always strive with every magistrate, advising them,—if they are gracious and well behaved,—of such things as are requisite, warning them, and giving them opportunities to make use of such things as have been rightly counselled, and helping them to advance the common good; but if there is in them any sloth, delay, or ill-disposedness to action, then ought one to go himself and speak to the people, and not to neglect or omit the public on pretence that it becomes not one magistrate to be curious and play the busybody in another’s province. For the law always gives the first rank in government to him who does what is just and knows what is convenient. “There was,” says Xenophon,[71] “one in the army named Xenophon, who was neither general nor inferior commander;” but yet this man, by his skill in what was fit and boldness in attempting, raising himself to command, preserved the Grecians. Now of all Philopoemen’s deeds this is the most illustrious, that Agis[72] having surprised Messene, and the general of the Achaeans being unwilling and fearful to go and rescue it, he with some of the forwardest spirits did without a commission make an assault and recover it. Yet are we not to attempt innovations on every light or trivial occasion; but only in cases of necessity, as did Philopoemen, or for the performance of some honorable actions, as did Epaminondas when he continued in the Boeotarchy four months longer than was allowed by the law, during which he brake into Laconia and re-edified Messene. Whence, if any complaint or accusation shall on this occasion happen, we may in our defence against such accusation plead necessity, or have the greatness and gallantry of the action as a comfort for the danger.

24. There is recorded a saying of Jason, monarch of the Thessalians, which he always had in his mouth when he outraged or molested any, that there is a necessity for those to be unjust in small matters who will act justly in great ones. Now that speech one may presently discern to have been made by a despot. But more political is this precept, to gratify the populacy with the passing over small things, that we may oppose and hinder them when they are like to offend in greater. For he that will be exact and earnest in all things, never yielding or conniving, but always severe and inexorable, accustoms the people to strive obstinately, and behave themselves perversely towards him.

But when the waves beat high, the sheet should be A little slackened,—

sometimes by unbending himself and sporting graciously with them, as in the celebrating of festival sacrifices, assisting at public games, and being a spectator at the theatres, and sometimes by seeming neither to see nor hear, as we pass by the faults of such children in our houses; that the faculty of freely chastising and reprehending, being—like a medicine—not antiquated or debilitated by use, but having its full vigor and authority, may more forcibly move and operate on the multitude in matters of greater importance.

Alexander, being informed that his sister was too familiarly acquainted with a certain handsome young man, was not displeased at it, but said, that she also must be permitted to have some enjoyment of the royalty; acting in this concession neither rightly nor as beseemed himself; for the dissolution and dishonoring of the state ought not to be esteemed an enjoyment. But a statesman will not to his power permit the people to injure any private citizens, to confiscate other men’s estates, or to share the public stock amongst them; but will by persuading, instructing, and threatening oppugn such irregular desires, by the feeding and increasing of which Cleon caused many a stinging drone, as Plato says, to breed in the city. But if the multitude, taking occasion from some solemn feast of the country or the veneration of some God, shall be inclined either to exhibit some show, to make some small distribution, to bestow some courteous gratification, or to perform some other magnificence, let them in such matters have an enjoyment both of their liberality and abundance. For there are many examples of such things in the governments of Pericles and Demetrius; and Cimon adorned the market-place by planting rows of plane-trees and making of walks. Cato also, seeing the populacy in the time of Catiline’s conspiracy put in a commotion by Caesar, and dangerously inclined to make a change in the government, persuaded the senate to decree some distributions of money amongst the poor, and this being done appeased the tumult and quieted the sedition. For, as a physician, having taken from his patient great store of corrupt blood, gives him a little innocent nourishment; so a statesman, having taken from the people some great thing which was either inglorious or prejudicial, does again by some small and courteous gratuity still their morose and complaining humor.

25. It is not amiss also dexterously to turn aside the eager desires of the people to other useful things, as Demades did when he had the revenues of the city under his management. For they being bent to send galleys to the assistance of those who were in rebellion against Alexander, and commanding him to furnish out money for that purpose, he said to them: You have money ready, for I have made provision against the Bacchanals, that every one of you may receive half a mina; but if you had rather have it employed this way, make use as you please of your own. And by this means taking them off from sending the fleet, lest they should be deprived of the dividend, he kept the people from offending Alexander. For there are many prejudicial things to which we cannot directly put a stop, but we must for that end make use of turning and winding; as did Phocion, when he was required at an unseasonable time to make an incursion into Boeotia. For he immediately caused proclamation to be made, that all from sixteen years of age to sixty should prepare to follow him; and when there arose upon it a mutiny amongst the old men, he said: There is no hardship put upon you, for I, who am above fourscore years old, shall be your general. In this manner also is the sending of embassies to be put off, by joining in the commission such as are unprepared; and the raising of unprofitable buildings, by bidding them contribute to it; and the following of indecent suits, by ordering the prosecutors to appear together and go together from the court. Now the proposers and inciters of the people to such things are first to be drawn and associated for the doing them; for so they will either by their shifting it off seem to break the matter, or by their accepting of it have their share in the trouble.

26. But when some great and useful matter, yet such as requires much struggling and industry, is to be taken in hand, endeavor to choose the most powerful of your friends, or rather the mildest of the most powerful; for they will least thwart you and most co-operate with you, having wisdom without a contentious humor. Nevertheless, thoroughly understanding your own nature, you ought, in that for which you are naturally less fit, rather to make choice of such as are of suitable abilities, than of such as are like yourself; as Diomedes, when he went forth to spy, passing by the valiant, took for his companion one that was prudent and cautious. For thus are actions better counterpoised, and there is no contention bred betwixt them, when they desire honor from different virtues and qualities. If therefore you are yourself no good speaker, choose for your assistant in a suit or your companion in an embassy an eloquent man, as Pelopidas did Epaminondas; if you are unfit to persuade and converse with the multitude, being too high-minded for it, as was Callicratidas, take one that is gracious and courtly; if you are infirm of body and unable to undergo fatigues, make choice of one who is robust and a lover of labor, as Nicias did of Lamachus. For thus Geryon would have become admirable, having many legs, hands, and eyes, if only they had been all governed by one soul. But it is in the power of statesmen—by conferring together, if they are unanimous, not only their bodies and wealth, but also their fortunes, authorities, and virtues, to one common use—to perform the same action with greater glory than any one person; not as did the Argonauts, who, having left Hercules, were necessitated to have recourse to female subtleties and be subject to enchantments and sorceries, that they might save themselves and steal away the fleece.

Men indeed entering into some temples leave their gold without; but iron, that I may speak my mind in a word, they never carry into any. Since then the tribunal is a temple common to Jupiter the counsellor and protector of cities, to Themis, and to Justice, from the very beginning, before thou enterest into it, stripping thy soul of avarice and the love of wealth, cast them into the shops of bankers and usurers,

And from them turn thyself,[73]

esteeming him who heaps up treasures by the management of public affairs to rob the temples, plunder graves, and steal from his friends, and enriching himself by treachery and bearing of false witness, to be an unfaithful counsellor, a perjured judge, a bribe-taking magistrate, and in brief, free from no injustice. Whence it is not necessary to say much concerning this matter.

27. Now ambition, though it is more specious than covetousness, brings yet no less plagues into a state. For it is usually more accompanied with boldness, as being bred, not in slothful and abject spirits, but chiefly in such as are vigorous and active; and the vogue of the people, frequently extolling it and driving it by their praises, renders it thereby headstrong and hard to be managed. As therefore Plato advised, that we should even from our infancy inculcate into young people, that it is not fit for them to wear gold about them abroad nor yet to be possessors of it, as having a peculiar treasure of their own, immixed with their souls,—enigmatically, as I conceive, insinuating the virtue propagated in their natures from the race or stock of which they are descended,—so let us also moderate our ambition by saying, that we have in ourselves uncorrupted gold, that is, honor unmixed, and free from envy and reprehension, which is still augmented by the consideration and contemplation of our acts and jests in the service of the commonweal. Wherefore we stand not in need of honors painted, cast, or engraven in brass, in which what is most admired frequently belongs to another. For the statue of a trumpeter or halberdier is not commended or esteemed for the sake of the person whom it is made to represent, but for that of the workman by whom it is made. And Cato, when Rome was in a manner filled with statues, would not suffer his to be erected, saying, I had rather men should ask why my statue is not set up, than why it is. For such things are subject to envy, and the people think themselves obliged to those who have not received them; whereas those who have received them are esteemed burthensome, as seeking public employs for a reward. For as he does no great or glorious act who, having without danger sailed along the Syrtis, is afterwards cast away in the harbor; so he who, having kept himself safe in passing through the treasury and the management of the public revenues, is caught with a presidency or a place in the Prytaneum, not only dashes against an high promontory, but is likewise drowned.

He then is best, who desires none of these things, but shuns and refuses them all. But if perhaps it is not easy wholly to decline a favor or testimonial of the people’s amity, when they are fully bent to bestow it, yet for those who have in the service of the state contended not for silver or presents, but have fought a fight truly sacred and deserving a crown, let an inscription, a tablet, a decree, or a branch of laurel or olive suffice, such as Epimenides received out of the castle of Athens for having purified the city. So Anaxagoras, putting back the other honors that were given him, desired that on the day of his death the children might have leave to play and intermit their studies. And to the seven Persians who killed the Magi it was granted that they and their posterity should wear their turban on the fore part of the head; for this, it seems, they had made the signal, when they went about that attempt. The honor also which Pittacus received had something political; for being bid to take what portion he would of the land he had gotten for his citizens, he accepted as much as he could reach with the cast of his dart. So Cocles the Roman took as much as he himself, being lame, could plough in a day. For the honor should not be a recompense of the action, but an acknowledgment of gratitude, that it may continue also long, as those did which we have mentioned. But of the three hundred statues erected to Demetrius Phalereus, not one was eaten into by rust or covered with filth, they being all pulled down whilst himself was yet alive; and those of Demades were melted into chamber-pots. Many other honors also have undergone the like fate, being regarded with an ill eye, not only for the wickedness of the receiver, but also for the greatness of the gift. A moderation in the expense is therefore the best and surest preservative of honors; for such as are great, immense, and ponderous are like to unproportioned statues, soon overthrown.

28. Now I here call those honors which the people,

Whose right it is, so name; with them I speak:

as Empedocles has it; since a wise statesman will not despise true honor and favor, consisting in the good-will and friendly disposition of those who gratefully remember his services; nor will he contemn glory by shunning to please his neighbors, as Democritus would have him. For neither the fawning of dogs nor the affection of horses is to be rejected by huntsmen and jockeys; nay, it is both profitable and pleasant to breed in those animals which are brought up in our houses and live with us, such a disposition towards one’s self as Lysimachus’s dog showed to his master, and as the poet relates Achilles’s horses to have had towards Patroclus.[74] And I am of opinion that bees would fare better if they would make much of those who breed them and look after them, and would admit them to come near them, than they do by stinging them and driving them away; for now their keepers punish them by smothering them with smoke; so they tame unruly horses with short bits; and dogs that are apt to run away, by collaring them and fastening them to clogs. But there is nothing which renders one man so obsequious and submissive to another, as the confidence of his good-will, and the opinion of his integrity and justice. Wherefore Demosthenes rightly affirmed, that the greatest preservative of states against tyrants is distrust. For the part of the soul by which we believe is most apt to be caught. As therefore Cassandra’s gift of prophecy was of no advantage to the citizens of Troy, who would not believe her:

The God (says she) would have me to foretell Things unbelieved; for when the people well Have smarted, groaning under pressures sad, They style me wise, till then they think me mad;

so the confidence the citizens had in Archytas, and their good-will towards Battus, were highly advantageous to those who would make use of them through the good opinion they had of them.

Now the first greatest benefit which is in the reputation of statesmen is the confidence that is had in them, giving them an entrance into affairs; and the second is, that the good-will of the multitude is an armor to the good against those that are envious and wicked; for,

As when the careful mother drives the flies From her dear babe, which sweetly sleeping lies,[75]

it chases away envy, and renders the plebeian equal in authority to the nobleman, the poor man to the rich, and the private man to the magistrates; and in a word, when truth and virtue are joined with it, it is a strange and favorable wind, directly carrying men into government. And on the other side behold and learn by examples the mischievous effects of the contrary disposition. For those of Italy slew the wife and children of Dionysius, having first violated and polluted them with their lusts; and afterwards burning their bodies, scattered the ashes out of the ship into the sea. But when one Menander, who had reigned graciously over the Bactrians, died afterwards in the camp, the cities indeed by common consent celebrated his funeral; but coming to a contest about his relics, they were difficultly at last brought to this agreement, that his ashes being distributed, every one of them should carry away an equal share, and they should all erect monuments to him. Again, the Agrigentines, being got rid of Phalaris, made a decree, that none should wear a blue garment; for the tyrant’s attendants had blue liveries. But the Persians, because Cyrus was hawk-nosed, do to this day love such men and esteem them handsomest.

29. That is of all loves the strongest and divinest, which is by cities and states borne to any man for his virtue. But those false-named honors and false testimonials of amity, which have their rise from stage-plays, largesses, and fencings, are not unlike the flatteries of whores; the people always with smiles bestowing an unconstant and short-lived glory on him that presents them and gratifies them.

He therefore who said, the people were first overthrown by him which first bestowed largesses on them, very well understood that the multitude lose their strength, being rendered weaker by receiving. But these bestowers must also know that they destroy themselves, when, purchasing glory at great expenses, they make the multitude haughty and arrogant, as having it in their power to give and take away some very great matter.

30. Yet are we not therefore to act sordidly in the distribution of honorary presents, when there is plenty enough. For the people more hate a rich man who gives nothing of his own, than they do a poor man that robs the public treasury; attributing the former to pride and a contempt of them, but the latter to necessity. First, therefore, let these largesses be made gratis, for so they more oblige the receivers, and strike them with admiration; then, on some occasion that has a handsome and laudable pretence, with the honor of some God wholly drawing the people to devotion; for so there is at the same time bred in them a strong apprehension and opinion that the Deity is great and venerable, when they see those whom they honor and highly esteem so bountifully and readily expending their wealth upon his honor. As therefore Plato forbade young men who were to be liberally educated to learn the Lydian and Phrygian harmony,—one of which excites the mournful and melancholy part of our soul, whilst the other increases its inclination to pleasure and sensual delight,—so do you, as much as possibly you can, drive out of the city all such largesses as either foster and cherish brutality and savageness, or scurrility and lasciviousness; and if that cannot be, at least shun them, and oppose the many when they desire such spectacles; always making the subjects of our expenses useful and modest, having for their end what is good and necessary, or at least what is pleasant and acceptable, without any prejudice or injury.

31. But if your estate be but indifferent, and by its centre and circumference confined to your necessary use, it is neither ungenerous nor base to confess your poverty and give place to such as are provided for those honorary expenses, and not, by taking up money on usury, to render yourself at the same time both miserable and ridiculous by such services. For they whose abilities fall short cannot well conceal themselves, being compelled either to be troublesome to their friends, or to court and flatter usurers, so that they get not any honor or power, but rather shame and contempt by such expenses. It is therefore always useful on such occasions to call to mind Lamachus and Phocion. For Phocion, when the Athenians at a solemn sacrifice called upon him, and often importuned him to give them something, said to them, I should be ashamed to give to you, and not pay this Callicles,—pointing to an usurer who was standing by. And as for Lamachus, he always put down in his bill of charges, when he was general, the money laid out for his shoes and coat. And to Hermon, when he refused the undertaking of an office because of his poverty, the Thessalians ordained a puncheon of wine a month, and a bushel and a half of meal every four days. It is therefore no shame to confess one’s poverty; nor are the poor in cities of less authority than those who feast and exhibit public shows, if they have but gotten freedom of speech and reputation by their virtue.

A statesman ought therefore chiefly to moderate himself on such occasions, and neither, being himself on foot, go into the field against well-mounted cavaliers, nor, being himself poor, vie with those that are rich about race matches, theatrical pomps, and magnificent tables and banquets; but he should rather strive to be like those who endeavor to manage the city by virtue and prudence, always joined with eloquence; in which there is not only honesty and venerableness, but also a gracefulness and attractiveness,

Far more to be desired than Croesus’ wealth.

For a good man is neither insolent nor odious; nor is a discreet person self-conceited,

Nor with a look severe walks he amongst His fellow-citizens;

but he is, on the contrary, courteous, affable, and of easy access to all, having his house always open, as a port of refuge to those that will make use of him, and showing his care and kindness, not only by being assistant in the necessities and affairs of those that have recourse to him, but also by condoling with those that are in adversity, and congratulating and rejoicing with such as have been successful; neither is he troublesome or offensive by the multitude and train of domestics attending him at bath, or by taking up of places in the theatres, nor remarkable by things invidious for luxury and sumptuousness; but he is equal and like to others in his clothes, diet, education of his children, and the garb and attendance of his wife, as desiring in his comportment and manner of living to be like the rest of the people. Then he exhibits himself an intelligent counsellor, an unfeed advocate and courteous arbitrator between men and their wives, and friends at variance amongst themselves; not spending a small part of the day for the service of the commonweal at the tribunal or in the hall of audience, and employing all the rest, and the whole remainder of his life, in drawing to himself every sort of negotiations and affairs, as the north-east wind does the clouds; but always employing his cares on the public, and reputing polity (or the administration of the state) as a busy and active life, and not, as it is commonly thought, an easy and idle service; he does by all these and such like things turn and draw the many, who see that all the flatteries and enticements of others are but spurious and deceitful baits, when compared to his care and providence. The flatterers indeed of Demetrius vouchsafed not to give the other potentates of his time, amongst whom Alexander’s empire was divided, the title of kings, but styled Seleucus master of the elephants, Lysimachus treasurer, Ptolemaeus admiral, and Agathocles governor of the isles. But the multitude, though they may at the beginning reject a good and prudent man, yet coming afterwards to understand his veracity and the sincerity of his disposition, esteem him a public-spirited person and a magistrate; and of the others, they think and call one a maintainer of choruses, a second a feaster, and a third a master of the exercises. Moreover, as at the banquets made by Callias or Alcibiades, Socrates only is heard, and to Socrates all men’s eyes are directed; so in sound and healthy states Ismenias bestows largesses, Lichas makes suppers, and Niceratus provides choruses; but it is Epaminondas, Aristides, and Lysander that govern, manage the state, and lead forth the armies. Which if any one considers, he ought not to be dejected or amazed at the glory gotten amongst the people from theatres, banqueting-halls, and public buildings; since it lasts but a short time, being at an end as soon as the prizes and plays are over, and having in them nothing honorable or worthy of esteem.

32. Those that are versed in the keeping and breeding of bees look on that hive to be healthiest and in best condition, where there is most humming, and which is fullest of bustle and noise; but he to whom God has committed the care of the rational and political hive, reputing the felicity of the people to consist chiefly in quietness and tranquillity, will receive and to his power imitate the rest of Solon’s ordinances, but will doubt and wonder what it was that induced him to decree, that he who, when there arises a sedition in the city, adheres to neither party should be reputed infamous. For in the body, the beginning of its change from sickness to health is not wrought by the parts that are infected with the disease, but when the temperature of such parts as are sound, growing powerful, drives away what is contrary to nature; and in a state, where the people are disturbed by a sedition not dangerous and mortal, but which will after a while be composed and allayed, it is of necessity that there be a mixture of much that is uninfected and sound, and that it continue and cohabit in it. For thither flows from the wise what is fit and natural, and passes into the part that is diseased. But when cities are in an universal commotion, they are in danger of being utterly destroyed, unless, being constrained by some necessity and chastisement from abroad, they are by the force of their miseries reduced to wisdom. Yet does it not become you in the time of a sedition to sit as if you were neither sensible nor sorry, praising your own unconcernedness as a quiet and happy life, and taking delight in the error of others. But on such occasions chiefly should you put on the buskin of Theramenes, and conferring with both parties, join yourself to neither. For you will not seem a stranger by not being a partaker in injustice, but a common friend to them all by your assistance; nor will you be envied for your not sharing in the calamity, when you appear equally to condole with every one of them. But the best is, by your providential care to prevent the raising of any sedition; and in this consists the greatest and most excellent point, as it were, of the political art. For you are to consider that, the greatest benefits a city can enjoy being peace, liberty, plenty, abundance of men, and concord, the people have at this time no need of statesmen for the procuring of peace; since all war, whether with Greeks or barbarians, is wholly taken away and banished from us. As for liberty, the people have as much as the emperors think fit to grant them, and more perhaps would not be expedient. The prudent man therefore will beg the Gods to grant to his fellow-citizens the unenvied plenty of the earth, and the kind temper of the seasons, and that wives may bear “children like to their parents,”[76] and also safety for all that is born and produced.

There remains therefore to a statesman, of all those things that are subject to his charge, this alone, which is inferior to none of the other benefits, the keeping of those who are co-inhabitants of the same city in perpetual concord and friendship, and the taking away of all contentions, animosities, and heart-burnings. In which he shall, as in the differences between friends, so converse with the party appearing to be most injured, as if he himself seemed also a sharer in the injury and equally offended at it, endeavoring afterwards so to appease him, by showing him how much those who pass by injuries excel such as strive to contend and conquer, not only in good-nature and sweetness of disposition, but also in prudence and magnanimity, and how, by remitting a little of their right in small matters, they get the better in the greatest and most important. He shall afterwards admonish them both in general and apart, instructing them in the weakness of the Grecian affairs, which it is better for intelligent men to make the best of, and to live in peace and concord, than to engage in a contest for which fortune has left no reward. For what authority, what glory is there remaining for the conquerors? What power is there, which the least decree of a proconsul cannot abolish or transfer elsewhere, and which, though it should continue, would yet have any thing worth our pains? But since, as a conflagration in a town does not frequently begin in sacred and public places, but a lamp negligently left in a house, or the burning of a little trash or rubbish, raises a great fire and works a common mischief; so sedition in a state is not always kindled by contentions about public affairs, but oftentimes the differences arising from private concerns and jangles, being propagated into the public, have disturbed a whole city. It is no less becoming a statesman to remedy and prevent all these, so that some of them may never have any being, others may quickly be extinguished, and others hindered from increasing or taking hold of the public, and confined amongst the adversaries themselves. And as himself ought to take care for this, so should he advertise others, that private disturbances are the occasion of public ones, and little of great ones, if they are neglected and suffered to proceed without taking care to apply fit remedies to them in the beginning.

In this manner is the greatest and most dangerous disturbance that ever happened in Delphi said to have been occasioned by Crates, whose daughter Orgilaus, the son of Phalis, being about to marry, it happened that the cup they were using in the espousals brake asunder of itself; which he taking for an ill omen, left his bride, and went away with his father. Crates a little after, charging them with taking away a certain golden vessel, used in the sacrifices, caused Orgilaus and his brother, unheard, to be precipitated from the top of a rock to the bottom, and afterwards slew several of their most intimate friends, as they were at their devotions in the temple of Providence. After many such things were perpetrated, the Delphians, putting to death Crates and his companions in the sedition, out of their estates which they called excommunicated, built the temples in the lower part of the town. In Syracuse also there were two young men, betwixt whom there was an extraordinary intimacy, one of which, having taken into his custody his friend’s catamite, vitiated him in his absence. The other at his return, by way of retaliation, debauched his companion’s wife. Then one of the ancient senators, coming into the council, proposed the banishing of them both before the city was ruined by their filling it with enmity. Yet did not he prevail; but a sedition arising on this occasion by very great calamities overturned a most excellently constituted commonweal. You have also a domestical example in the enmity between Pardalus and Tyrrhenus, which wanted little of destroying Sardis by embroiling it in revolt and war on little and private differences. A statesman therefore is not to slight the little offences and heart-burnings which, as diseases in a body, pass speedily from one to another, but to take them in hand, suppress, and cure them. For, as Cato says, by attention and carefulness great matters are made little, and little ones reduced to nothing. Now there is no better artifice of inuring men to this, than the showing one’s self easily pacified in his own private differences, persisting without rancor in matters of the first importance, and managing none with obstinacy, contending wrath, or any other passion, which may work sharpness or bitterness in necessary disputes. For as they bind certain round muffles about the hands of those who combat at buffets, that in their contests there may not arrive any fatal accident, the blows being soft and such as can do no great harm; so in such suits and processes with one’s fellow-citizens, it is best to manage the dispute by making use of pure and simple pretences, and not by sharpening and empoisoning matters, as if they were weapons, with calumnies, malice, and threats, to render them pernicious, great, and public. For he who in this manner carries himself with those with whom he has affairs will have others also subject to him. But contentions about public matters, where private grudges are taken away, are soon appeased, and bring no difficult or fatal mischiefs.

X. DINARCHUS. (part 3)

WHICH ARE THE MOST CRAFTY, WATER-ANIMALS OR THOSE CREATURES THAT BREED UPON THE LAND?

AUTOBULUS, SOCLARUS, OPTATUS, PHAEDIMUS, ARISTOTIMUS, HERACLEO.

1. AUTOBULUS. Leonidas, being asked the question what he thought of Tyrtaeus, made answer, that he was a good poet to whet minds of young men; as a person who, by the vigor and spirit of his poetical raptures, kindled that wrathful indignation and ambition of honor, which emboldened them in combat to the contempt of death and danger. Which makes me afraid, my dearest friends, lest the encomium of hunting yesterday recited may have inflamed our young gentlemen beyond the bounds of moderation, so as to deem all other things fruitless and of little worth, while they rendezvous from all parts to this exercise. So much the rather, because I myself, when I was but very young, even beyond the strength of my age, seemed to be more than became me addicted to this sport, and to be over desirous with Phaedra in Euripides,

With hounds and horn and merry hollow, The spotted hart and hind to follow

So did that discourse affect me, fortified with many and probable arguments.

SOCLARUS. You say very truly, Autobulus. For that same poet seems to me to have awakened the force of rhetoric, for a long time lulled asleep, to gratify the inclinations of the youthful gentry, and to make himself their spring companion. But I am most pleased with him for introducing the example of single combatants, from whence he takes occasion to praise the sport of hunting, as being that which for the most part draws to itself whatever is natural in us, or what we have by use acquired, of that delight which men take in fighting with single weapons one against another, thus affording an evident prospect of artifice and daring courage, endued with understanding, encountering brutish force and strength, and applauding that of Euripides:

Small is the nerveless strength of feeble man, Yet through the cunning of his reaching brain, By various slights and sundry stratagems, Whatever land or th’ Ocean breeds he tames.[77]

2. AUTOBULUS. And hence it was, as they say, my dearest Soclarus, that men at first became insensible and inhuman, having once tasted of murder, and being all accustomed, by hunting and following the chase, not only to behold without remorse the wounds and blood of wild beasts, but to rejoice at their being killed and slaughtered. Afterwards, as at Athens, some sycophant was by the Thirty Tyrants set apart for death, as a proper object of capital punishment, then a second, and a third; till, proceeding by degrees, they seized upon good men, and at length spared not the best and most worthy citizens. In like manner the first that slew a bear or a wolf obtained applause, then the ox and hog were appointed to be killed, under pretence of having tasted the sacred things that lay before them. Next to them deer, hares, and goats were made use of for food, and in some places the flesh of sheep, dogs, and horses grew familiar to human taste. The tame goose also and pigeon, man’s familiar domestic, according to Sophocles,—not for nourishment or to assuage hunger, as cats and weasels do, but to indulge voluptuous appetites,—they dressed and mangled to pieces. This gave strength and vigor to whatever was in nature bloodthirsty and savage, and rendering the disposition of man inflexible to pity, had almost erased out of his breast whatever was inclinable to humanity and mildness. Whereas, on the other side, the Pythagoreans, that they might accustom men to the love of humanity and compassion, still inculcated into their minds a particular care of being mild and gentle towards beasts. For there is nothing more powerful than custom to win upon all the affections of man, and to draw them from moderation to extremity. But I know not how it comes to pass, that being entered into this discourse, we have forgot not only the subject we were yesterday upon, but what we had also this day agreed to make the theme of our colloquy. For yesterday, as you well know, having thrown out a proposition, that all creatures were in some manner partakers of understanding and reason, we gave an occasion to you, young huntsmen, for a fair dispute, which of the two excelled in craft and cunning, the land animals, or the creatures that breed in the sea? Which, if you please, we will determine this day, if Aristotimus and Phaedimus will stand to their agreement; of which two gentlemen, the one has offered himself to his friends to be the patron of the land animals, the other reserves the honor of being more crafty to those of the sea.

SOCLARUS. They will be as good as their words, I assure you, Autobulus, and will be here presently; for I saw them both early this morning preparing for the combat. In the mean time, if you please, before they begin, let us resume something of what was yesterday not so fully discoursed of for want of time, or not so carefully argued in our wine, as it ought to have been. For there seemed a dispute to resound in my ears from the Stoics’ portico, that, as immortal is opposite to mortal, incorruptible to corruptible, incorporeal to corporeal, in like manner things void of reason ought to be opposed to those beings that are endued with reason, lest among so many pairs of contraries this alone should be found maimed and imperfect.

3. AUTOBULUS. Good now, friend Soclarus, who was he that maintained that, because there are certain beings endued with reason, therefore there is nothing void of reason? For we abound with examples in all things that are destitute of a soul; nor do we want any other antithesis to irrational, but only to oppose whatever is deprived of a soul—as being void of reason and understanding—to that which is endued with reason and understanding together with a soul. But if any one will assert, that Nature is not defective, and that therefore animated Nature is partly rational, partly without reason; another may at the same time allege, that animated Nature is partly endued with imagination, partly deprived of it; partly sensible, partly insensible; to the end that Nature may not want these opposite habits and privations, as it were, equally balanced in the same kind. For, as it would be absurd to expect to find some living creatures sensible and others without sense, and equally ridiculous to grant imagination to some living creatures and not allow it to others,—since there is no living creature that comes into the world but what is presently endued with sense and imagination,—thus would he be as much out of the way, who should require one living creature to be rational and another void of reason, and that too when he is disputing with men who hold that nothing whatever can partake of sense which does not also partake of understanding, and that there is no animal not endued by Nature with opinion and ratiocination, as well as with sense and instinct. For Nature, which, as they truly say, made all things for the sake of something and to some end, did not make a sensible creature to be merely sensible of barely suffering something; but since there are many things familiar and agreeable, and other things as baneful and pernicious, no one of them could survive for a moment, did they not learn to avoid some things and covet the use and benefit of others. Sense it is, therefore, that affords to every creature the knowledge both of useful and hurtful; but the discretion which accompanies the said sense, choosing and seizing upon things profitable, and discerning and avoiding things pernicious or troublesome, can never be thought to reside in any creature not capable to reason, to judge, remember, and consider. Therefore, if you will deprive the creatures of expectation, memory, design, preparation, hope, fear, desire, and grief, you must at the same time deny them the use either of eyes or ears, and indeed of all sense and imagination; which it is better for them to be without, since they cannot make use of them, than to labor under grief and pain, with no means present of averting them.

There is an oration of Strato the philosopher, demonstrating that without sense there can be no understanding. For many times letters cursorily glanced upon by the eye, and speeches little regarded by the ear, escape our knowledge, our minds being intent on other matters. Afterwards by recollection the same things return into our mind, for us to run through and pursue them in our thoughts as we please. Whence we say proverbially, “The mind sees, the mind hears; all other things are deaf and blind,” in regard there can be no sense in the eyes and ears, if understanding be wanting. Therefore King Cleomenes, after great commendations given to a copy of verses recited at a banquet where he was present, being asked whether it were not an admirable piece, bid them that heard it give their judgment, for that his mind was in the Peloponnesus. Therefore of necessity, whatever creatures are capable of sense must also be capable of understanding, if we can no otherwise be sensible than by the force of understanding.

But suppose we should grant that sense has no need of the understanding for the performance of the duty incumbent upon it; nevertheless, when that same sense which has shown an animal the difference between what is grateful and what is averse to Nature has departed, where is that faculty which retains this difference in the memory,—dreading things that are abominable, and longing after things that are useful, and if they are wanting, seeking means to compass them,—which provides animals receptacles and places of refuge, that they may look out after their prey, and avoid the snares and gins of the hunters? And yet those very authors inculcate these things in their introductions, even to the teasing our ears: defining purpose to be an indication that something is to be brought to completion; design to be an impulse before an impulse; preparation to be an action before an action; memory to be the comprehension of some certain past impression, which at first was apprehended by sense. In all which things there is nothing which may not rightly be said to partake of reason, and yet all these things are common to all creatures; as indeed are certainly all cogitations; which, while they lie concealed in the brain, we call thoughts, but when they come to be in motion, we name conceptions. In the mean time they acknowledge all passions and perturbations of the mind to be false judgments and erroneous opinions; so that it is a wonder to me, that the same men should oversee so many operations and motions, some of desire, others of fear, nay, by Jupiter, many times of envy and emulation itself. And many times they themselves punish their dogs and horses when they commit a fault, and this not to no purpose, but to chastise them by causing in them through pain that trouble of mind which we call repentance. Now the tickling the ear by pleasing sounds is called enchantment, but the bewitching the eye is called bewitching; both which we make use of in the domesticating of wild beasts. Harts and horses are allured by the sounds of pipes and flutes. And there are a sort of crabs which are charmed out of their holes by fifes; and it is reported that the shadfish are drawn to show themselves above water by singing and clapping of hands. The otus also, which is a bird not much unlike a night-raven, is taken by allurement of the sight; for that while he stands staring upon the fowlers dancing before him in measure and figure, and out of affection will be striving to act his part by aping their motions with his wings and shoulders, he is frequently surprised and taken.

But as for those that more foolishly affirm that beasts are not affected with joy or anger or fear, that the swallow does not build, that the bee does not remember, that the lion is not angry, that the hart is not timorous, but that they do all these things only as it were and apparently; I would fain know what answer they will make to those who say, that beasts neither see nor hear, but as it were see and as it were hear; that they neither neigh nor bleat, but as it were send forth a certain sound; lastly, that they do not absolutely live, but live as it were? For, in my opinion, to aver this is as contrary to plain demonstration as the rest.

4. SOCLARUS. Well then, Autobulus, suppose me to be one of those that affirm these things. For it is great folly for men to compare the actions of beasts with the customs, actions, and manner of living men, and above all, to deny that beasts have the least inclination or aim at any progress towards virtue, to which we bent our discourse. Indeed, I doubt whether Nature gave them a beginning or no, since they are so incapable to attain the end.

AUTOBULUS. Why truly, Soclarus, this is not a thing that seems so absurd to those men. For that while they assert the extreme love of parents towards their children to be the principle of society and justice, and find at the same time this virtue apparent and surpassing in brute animals, yet they will not allow them in the least to partake of justice; like mules, which, though they are furnished with genital parts, as wanting neither privities nor wombs, and mixing with delight and pleasure, yet cannot attain the end of generation. But then again I would have you consider, whether they be not ridiculous, that affirm Socrates or Plato to be no less vicious than the meanest of slaves,—nay more, that they were fools, intemperate, and unjust,—and then find fault with the nature of beasts, as being impure and no way accurately framed for the reception of virtue; as if this were proof of utter want of reason, and not of depravedness and imbecility of reason. And all the while, they acknowledge that there are vices of reason, of which all brute beasts are guilty; many of which we plainly find to be intemperate, fearful, malicious, and unjust. Therefore he that denies that reason exists by Nature in a creature, because it is not framed by Nature to attain to the perfection of reason, little differs from one that should deny a monkey to partake of deformity by Nature, or a tortoise of slowness, as being neither susceptible of beauty or swiftness. Nor do they observe the distinction that lies before their eyes. For reason is in the creature by Nature, but right and perfect reason is attained by industry and education; so that naturally all creatures may be said to be rational. But if they look for perfection of reason and true wisdom, they will hardly find those perfections in any man whatever. For as there is a difference between sight and sight, and between flight and flight,—for hawks and grasshoppers do not see alike, neither do eagles and partridges fly with equal swiftness,—so neither in all rational creatures is there to be found the same perfection of cunning and acuteness. For as there are many examples to be produced of several brute creatures, excelling in the observance of society, fortitude, and foresight as to their particular economy and making provision for themselves; so on the other side, there may be found among them as many of injustice, cowardice, and folly. Which is evident from the present contest wherein these young gentlemen have engaged themselves, while the one has undertaken to maintain that land-animals, the other that creatures bred in the sea, are most inclined to virtue. Which is plainly demonstrated by comparing river-horses with storks. For the one support and cherish their fathers, the others kill them that they may enjoy their dams. So likewise, if you compare doves with partridges. For the cock partridge will not suffer the hen to sit, but breaks her eggs and throws them out of the nest if she refuses to be trod. But the cock pigeon takes upon him part of the female’s duty, in brooding over the eggs and feeding the young ones; and if the hen happens to be too long absent, he corrects her with his bill, till he forces her to return to her nest. So that, while Antipater found fault with sheep and asses for their nastiness, I wonder how he came to pass by lynxes and swallows, of which the one are so cleanly that they always remove and hide their excrements, the others teach their young ones to turn their tails out of their nest, before they let fall their defilement. And indeed, why may we not say that one tree is more docible than another, as dogs are more docible than sheep; or one pot-herb more timorous than another, as harts are more fearful than lions? Or otherwise, as among things immovable, there is not one thing slower in motion than another; nor among things that are mute, one thing more vocal than another; so neither, among things to which Nature has not afforded a faculty of understanding, is there one thing more timorous, more slothful, or more intemperate than another. But as to those creatures where that faculty is present, the difference is manifest in the degrees of more or less.

5. SOCLARUS. However, it is a wonderful thing to observe, how much man differs from all other creatures in probity of manners, in industry, and in all those things that relate to justice and common society.

AUTOBULUS. Nevertheless, my dear friend, this cannot be denied, that there are many brute beasts that surpass men both in bulk and swiftness, others that far surpass him in strength of sight and exactness of hearing; and yet for all this we are not to say that man is blind, without strength, or wants ears. For Nature has not deprived us either of hands or eyes or strength or bulk, though we must not compare with camels or elephants. In like manner we must not say that brute beasts are altogether deprived of reason and understanding, because they are more dull of understanding, and not so quick at ratiocination as we are, as only enjoying a weak and muddy sort of reason, like a dim and clouded eye. And did I not presently expect these young gentlemen, being persons both studious and learned, to bring together an infinite number of examples in reference to both land and sea-animals, I could produce a thousand examples of docility and a thousand more of good nature in beasts, which the famous city of Rome has given us an opportunity to fetch from her imperial theatres; but we will leave these things fresh and untouched, for them to embellish with their eloquent discourse.

In the mean time I have something to offer by the by, which is this, that I am of opinion that there is a mutilation, disease, and defect peculiar to every part and faculty,—as blindness of the eye, lameness of the leg, and stuttering of the tongue,—which defects cannot be appropriated to any other members. For that blindness can never be attributed to that which was never created to see, nor lameness to that which never could go, nor can any thing be said to stammer that wants a tongue, or to lisp or stutter that has not a vocal utterance. And nothing can be said to be a changeling or beside his wits or mad, to which Nature never gave the use of thought, reason, and understanding; for it is impossible to be so without some faculty that can suffer either privation or mutilation or some other defect. But you have seen dogs that were mad, and I have seen horses under the same predicament; and some there are who say that bulls and foxes will be mad. But the example of dogs is sufficient, which is unquestionable. This makes it evident, that those creatures have a sort of reason and understanding not to be despised, which being once confused and troubled, the affection arises which is called madness. For we do not find either their sight or their hearing diminished. Now, as when a man is affected with hypochondriac melancholy, or in a delirium, it would be absurd to say that he was not beside himself, or that his sense, reason, and memory were not disturbed,—for custom tells that they who are in a raving condition are not in their right senses, but are fallen from their reason,—so whoever believes that there is any other cause why dogs run mad, but only that their natural senses, reason, and memories are disturbed, while they cease to know faces the most familiar to them before, and abandon their most usual food, and overlook what is just before their eyes, such a man, I say, seems to me either to overlook what is just before his eyes, or else, seeing the conclusions that follow, to fight against the truth itself.

6. SOCLARUS. You seem to me to be very much in the right, for the Stoics and Peripatetics are led to affirm the contrary upon this supposition, that justice could have no certain original, but would be altogether incomprehensible and inexistent if all brute creatures should partake of reason. For either of necessity we must do a very great piece of injustice when we devour and feed upon them; or if we forbear the use of them, it will be impossible for us to live, or rather we shall in some measure live the lives of beasts, rejecting the use of brute creatures. I pass by those innumerable myriads of nomades and Troglodytes that know no other food but flesh. But as for us that seem to live lovingly and in friendship together, what necessity would there be of laboring on the earth, toiling upon the sea, or mining in the mountains, what ornament would there be in our life, if it were so that we must be bound to live, as it would then become us, not only without injury but rather with all civility and humanity toward all the sorts of beasts, as being our fellow rational creatures? We have no cure, no remedy for an unquestionable necessity that deprives us either of life or justice, unless we observe that ancient bound and dispensation which, according to Hesiod, distinguishing natures and separating every kind by themselves, commands

The fish, wild beasts, and all the winged fowl, To prey upon their kinds without control, For among them no law nor justice reigns; Only by justice man from man abstains.[78]

And therefore, as brutes can extend no act of justice to us, so neither can we commit any act of injustice against them. Which argument they who reject have left us no benefit of life, nor any the smallest entrance for justice into the world.

7. AUTOBULUS. These things, dear friend, you utter as the opinion of those people. But we are not to allow philosophers a remedy to procure easy delivery, as they do to women that are subject to hard labors, merely that they may bring us forth justice without any pain or trouble. For the same persons, even in the greatest matters, will not allow to Epicurus so small and pitiful a thing as the slightest inclination of one only atom, for to make way for the stars and living creatures and Fortune to come into the world, and that thereby our free will might be saved. For we ought either to prove what is doubtful or to assume what of itself is manifest; so we ought not to take for granted this doctrine touching beasts as regards justice, unless it is either confessed or otherwise proved by demonstration. For justice has another way to establish itself, neither so steep nor so slippery, nor leading to the subversion of evident truths; but which, according to Plato’s instruction, my son and thy friend, Soclarus, has showed to such as are not captiously contentious but willing to learn. For certain it is, that both Empedocles and Heraclitus held it for a truth, that man could not be altogether cleared from injustice in dealing with beasts as he now does; often bewailing and exclaiming against Nature, as if she were nothing else but necessity and war, having neither any thing unmixed nor any thing truly pure, but still arriving at her end by many, and those unjust and unlawful passions. Whence they affirm that generation itself originally proceeded from injustice by the conjunction of immortal with mortal, and that the thing engendered is still contrary to Nature delighted with the parts of that which engenders, dismembered from the whole. But this seems to be too luxuriant and severe an accusation of Nature. For there is yet a more moderate excuse, which does not altogether deprive the beasts of reason, yet justifies the necessary and convenient use of them; which when the ancients introduced, they detested and utterly discountenanced voracious and voluptuous gluttony. Pythagoras also resumed the argument, teaching how we might reap the benefit of the creatures without doing injustice. For they do no injustice, that chastise and kill such savage beasts that are both hurtful to man and never will be tame. But taming such as are gentle and loving to men, they thereby make them assistant in the several uses to which they were ordained,—

The horse and ass, that backs to load resign, And race of bulls,

which, as Prometheus in Aeschylus[79] observes,

Kind Heaven vouchsafed to men by toil distrest, With servile limbs his labors to assist.

Thus we make use of dogs to guard our goats and sheep, while they are milked and shorn. For life does not presently forsake a man unless he have his platters of fish or livers of geese, or unless he may kill whole oxen or kids to supply his banquets, or unless—that he may disport himself in the theatre or take his pleasure in hunting—he may compel some beasts to be daring and to fight against their wills, and kill others whom Nature has not armed to defend themselves. For, in my opinion, he that is for sport and pastime ought to seek out for such as will sport and be merry with him. And as it was the saying of Bion, that, though boys throw stones at frogs in sport, yet the frogs do not die in sport but in earnest; so in hunting and fishing, the fault is in the men delighting in the torments and cruel deaths of beasts, and tearing them without compassion from their whelps and their young ones. For it is not in the making use of beasts that men do them wrong, but in the wastefully and cruelly destroying them.

8. SOCLARUS. Contain yourself, my dearest Autobulus, and forbear these accusations; for here are several gentlemen coming, all great huntsmen, whom it will be very difficult to bring over to your opinion; neither is it convenient to offend them.

AUTOBULUS. You give me good advice. However, I know Eubiotus very well, and my kinsman Ariston; nor am I less acquainted with Aeacides and Aristotimus, the sons of Dionysius the Delphian, as also with Nicander the son of Euthydamus, all expert in the chase by land, as Homer expresses it; and therefore likely to take part with Aristotimus. On the other side, yonder comes Phaedimus too, bringing along with him the islanders and neighbors to the sea, Heracleon of Megara, and Philostratus of Euboea,

Whose whole delight is all the day The toilsome pastime of the sea.[80]

But as for Optatus, our equal in years (like Tydides),—

Which of the sides to range him well, So versed in both, we cannot tell.[81]

For he is one that offers as well the first-fruits of his fishery to Dictynna, as of his forest spoils to Diana; so that it is apparent he comes among us as one that intends not to be partial to one side more than the other; or else our conjecture is amiss, dear Optatus, that your design is only to be an impartial umpire between these young gentlemen.

OPTATUS. You conjecture very truly, Autobulus. For the ancient law of Solon is out of date, that punished those who stood neuters and refused to adhere to either side.

AUTOBULUS. Seat yourself then here by us, that if there should be any occasion for a testimony, we may not be troubled to run to Aristotle’s writings, but acquiescing in your experience, may give our suffrages according to what you aver for truth.

OPTATUS. Go to then, young gentlemen: are ye agreed upon the method and order of the dispute?

PHAEDIMUS. Truly, worthy Soclarus, that very thing occasioned a great debate among us; but at length, according to that of Euripides,

The child of Fortune, Chance, the point agreed, And fixed the method how we should proceed,

by giving the precedence to the land animals to plead their cause before marine creatures.

SOCLARUS. Then, Aristotimus, it is high time for you to speak and for us to hear.

9. ARISTOTIMUS. The court is open to all concerned in the controversy.... Others there are that kill their young ones by leaping the females at the very instant of their bringing forth. There are a sort of mullets, called pardiae, that feed upon their own slime. But the polypus sits all the winter feeding upon itself,

In fireless house, and domicils forlorn;[82]

so slothful, or so stupid, or so given to his gut he is, or else so abandoned to all those vices together. And therefore Plato again and again forbids, or rather makes it his wish, in his laws, that young men might not be permitted to addict themselves to marine fishery, wherein there is no exercise of strength, no cogitation of wisdom, nor any thing that contributes to fortitude, swiftness, or agility, in combating against pikes, congers, or scates; whereas, in the chase of wild beasts, the fiercer sort accustom the huntsman to contempt of danger, the more subtle sort exercise and sharpen his wit and cunning, the swifter sort exercise his strength, and render him more apt to endure labor. These are the advantages that accrue to a man by hunting; but in fishing, there is nothing worth his while. For never any of the Gods got honor by the surname of a conger-killer; as Apollo was surnamed the wolf-slayer; never any of the Deities gloried in being a darter of mullets, as Diana is honored with the addition of hart-darting.

And what wonder is it, when it is accounted more noble for a man to kill than to buy a wild boar, a hart, a goat, or a hare, but more honorable to buy a tunny, a lobster, or an amy, than to kill one? And therefore, because there is nothing in fishing that is noble, no using of gins and slight of cunning, it is accounted a sorry, pitiful exercise, not worth a man’s labor.

10. In general then, since the usual arguments by which philosophers demonstrate that beasts partake of reason are these following,—purpose, contrivance, memory, passions, care of their young ones, gratefulness to those from whom they receive kindnesses, and the remembrance of shrewd turns, to which we may add the search after and choice of what is needful and beneficial for them, together with apparent shows of virtue, as of fortitude, society, continence, and magnanimity,—if we consider the marine creatures, we shall not find that our strictest observation can perceive in them any of these excellences, or at best they are such obscure and imperfect glimmerings as are scarce discernible. But in terrestrial and land animals, there is not any man but may behold the most luculent, the most evident and uncontrollable demonstrations in the world of all that has been said. In the first place, observe the designs and preparations of bulls provoked to combat, and of wild boars whetting their teeth. Again, elephants—since, by digging up or tearing down the trees which they intend to feed upon, they blunt and wear out their tushes—make use of only one for those purposes, but reserve the other strong and sharp for their own defence. The lion also always walks with his feet inverted, hiding his claws withinside his paw, to prevent the hunter from tracing him easily by his footing. For the track of a lion’s claw is not easily to be found, so that the hunters are frequently at a loss, and wander after the obscure and scarce discernible footsteps of those beasts. You have heard also, I suppose, of the ichneumon, how that he arms himself as completely as a soldier with his breastplate and cuirass prepared for battle; in such a manner does that creature surround and wrap himself about with a coat of mail, when he attacks the crocodile.

Admirable are the preparations of swallows before they go to lay their eggs, how they place the more solid stubble for foundations, and upon that build up the slighter straws; and if they perceive that the nest wants mud to serve as glue, you may observe how they fly to the next lake or sea, and after they have skimmed the superficies of the water with their wings,—so as to make them moist, yet not heavy with wet,—they lick up the dust, and so daub and bind together the loose and ill-cohering parts of the nest. As for the form of their architecture, it is composed neither of angles nor of many sides, but smooth and, as much as may be, spherical; for that such a figure is lasting and capacious, and not easily affording entrance to creatures that lie in wait for their destruction from without.

Who is there that does not admire, for more reasons than one, the labor of the spiders, which seems as pattern for the threads that women spin and the nets that are used in hunting? For the extraordinary fineness of the spinning, and the evenness of the thread, not discontinued or snapped off like the yarn upon a quill, but having the smooth and subtle texture of a thin membrane, and knit and spun together with a certain clammy moisture imperceptibly mixed; besides the tincture of it, causing a kind of airy and misty color, the better to deceive; but above all, the conduct and governing of this little engine, in which when any thing happens to be entangled, you see how presently, like an expert huntsman, the subtle artist contracts her net and binds her prey within it;—all this being every day obvious to our sight and contemplation gives credit to my discourse, which otherwise might be accounted no less fabulous than what is reported of certain Libyan crows, that, when they are a-thirsty, throw stones into the water, by that means to raise it to such a height that they may be able to reach it with their bills. Then again, when I saw a ship dog, in the absence of the seamen, putting in stones in a half-empty jar of oil, it was to me a wonder how that dog should understand that the pressure of the heavier weight would make the lighter rise.

And the same artifices are reported of Cretan bees and Cilician geese. For the first of these, being to take their flight about some windy promontory, ballast themselves with little stones, to prevent their being carried away by the stronger blasts. And as for the geese, they being afraid of the eagles, every time they cross the mountain Taurus, carry great stones in their mouths, to the end that by that means (as it were) bridling their gaggling tongues, they may cross the mountain in silence, without alarming their enemies.

Extraordinary also is the caution which the cranes observe in their flight. For they fly, when the wind is very high and the air very tempestuous, not as in fair weather, all afront or in manner of the half-moon; but forming a triangular body, with the sharp angle of that figure they penetrate the wind that ruffles round about them, and by that means preserve their order unbroken. On the other side, when they fall upon the ground, those that are upon the night-watch stand with the whole weight of their bodies upon one leg, holding a stone in the claw of the other foot. For the holding of the stone keeps them awake for a long time together, and wakes them again with the noise of the fall if they happen to drop asleep. So that it was no wonder that Hercules laid his quiver under his arm-pit, and with his strenuous arm embracing his bow,

Slept all the night, where’er he laid his load, With his right-handed weight upon the wood.

Nor do I so much admire at him who was the first that hit upon the way to open an oyster, when I meet with and consider the artifices of the herons. For a heron, when he has swallowed a closed oyster, endures the trouble and vexation of it for so long time, till he perceives it soften and relaxed by the heat of his stomach; then casting it up again gaping and divided, he takes out that which is fit for food.

11. But as it is a task of great labor accurately to relate the economy and contrivances of the emmets, so it would argue too much of negligence to pass them over in silence. For there is not in Nature a smaller creature; and yet it is a most absolute mirror of the greatest and most noble performances, and (as it were) in a transparent drop the appearance of all virtue. There is friendship to be discerned in their mutual society. There is the image of fortitude in the patient undergoing of labor. In them are to be seen many seeds of continence, many of wisdom and justice. Insomuch that Cleanthes, who denied that beasts were endued with reason, could not forbear reporting how he met with the following accident of a crowd of emmets, that came to another ant-hill, bringing along with them a dead emmet. Presently other emmets ascending out of their ant-hill seemed (as it were) to meet them, and then disappeared again; and this was done twice or thrice. Till at length the one side brought up from under ground a worm, as the price of the dead emmet’s redemption, which the other party of pismires receiving, delivered the dead emmet, and so departed. But that which is apparent to all is their equity to each other when they meet one another, while they that carry nothing always give way to those that are burdened; nor are their divisions and partitions of things too weighty for single carriage less remarkable, to the end the burdens may be divided among many. But when they bring forth their little eggs and expose them to the cold, Aratus makes it a sign of rainy weather.

When from her hollow cells th’ industrious ant Her hidden store of eggs brings forth

For in that sense many read ἤια (provision) for ὤεα (eggs), referring it to the providence of those little creatures, who, when they find their provision in their magazines to begin to taint and grow rotten, bring it forth and expose it to the open air, to prevent the progress of the putrefaction. But that which above all things demonstrates the surpassing excellency of their understanding is their pre-apprehension of the germinating of wheat. For the wheat does not remain dry and void of putrefaction, but grows moist and turns into a kind of milky substance, when it changes from seed to become an herb. For fear therefore that preserving the quality it should become useless for food, they eat out the very principal part of the grain, from whence the wheat sends forth its blossom. I must confess, I do not approve of those who dig up ant-hills on purpose to improve their learning (as it were) by anatomy. However, they tell us by virtue of that cruel information, that the passage or descent from the top of the hill to the nest is not directly straight nor easily penetrated by any other creature, but intercepted with several turnings and windings, leading through several underminings and perforations into three cavities; of which the one is the common place of feeding and converse for the whole community, the next is the general magazine of their provision, and the third is the apartment where they dispose of their dead.

12. I am afraid you may deem me too impertinent in joining elephants with pismires, and yet I cannot but think it seasonable to show the nature and force of understanding, as well in the smallest as in the greatest bodies, neither obscured in the one nor deficient in the other.

Some there are that admire in an elephant his aptness to learn and to be taught, and the many various postures and alterations of movement which he shows upon the theatres, not easily to be equalled by human assiduity, as subtle and abounding in memory and retention as man is. But for my part, I rather choose to prove his evident understanding from the passions and inclinations of the creature, that were never taught him, but only infused by Nature, as being altogether unmixed and pure without the help of art.

At Rome, not very long ago, there were many elephants that were taught many dangerous postures, many windings and turnings and circular screwings of their bulky bodies, hard to be expressed; among which there was one, which, being duller than the rest, and therefore often rated and chastised for his stupidity, was seen in the night-time, by moonlight, without being forced to it, to practise over his lessons with all the industry imaginable.

Agno tells a story of an elephant in Syria, that was bred up in a certain house, who observed that his keeper took away and defrauded him every day of half the measure of his barley; only that once, the master being present and looking on, the keeper poured out the whole measure; which was no sooner done, but the elephant, extending his proboscis, separated the barley and divided it into two equal parts, thereby ingeniously discovering, as much as in him lay, the injustice of his keeper.

Another in revenge that his keeper mixed stones and dirt with his barley, as the keeper’s meat was boiling upon the fire, took up the ashes and flung them into the pot.

Another being provoked by the boys in Rome, that pricked his proboscis with the sharp ends of their writing steels, caught one of them in his proboscis, and mounted him up into the air, as if he intended to have squashed out his guts; but upon the loud outcries of the spectators, set him gently down again upon his feet, and so went on, believing he had sufficiently punished the boy in scaring him. Many other things are reported of the wild elephants that feed without control, but nothing more to be admired than their passing of great rivers. For first of all the youngest and the least flounces into the stream; whom the rest beholding from the shore, if they see that the less bulky leader keeps steady footing with his back above water, they are then assured and confident that they may boldly adventure without any danger.

13. Having thus far proceeded in our discourse, I cannot think it well done to pass by the cunning of the fox, by reason of the similitude it has with the former. The mythologists tell us that the dove which Deucalion sent out of his ark, returning back again, was to him a certain sign of the storm not ceased; but of serene and fair weather, when she flew quite away. But the Thracians to this day, when they design to pass a river that is frozen over, make use of a fox to try whether the ice will bear or no. For the fox, treading gently, lays his ear to the ice, and if he perceive by the noise of the water that the stream runs very close underneath, conjecturing from thence that the congelation is not deep but thin, and no way steadfastly solid, he makes a stop, and if he be suffered, returns back again; but if he perceive no noise, he goes on boldly. Nor can we say that this is only an exquisiteness of sense without reason; but it is a syllogistical deduction from sense, concluding that whatever makes a noise is moved; whatever is moved, cannot be frozen; what is not frozen, is moist; what is moist, gives way. The logicians say that a dog, making use of the argument drawn from many disjunctive propositions, thus reasons with himself, in places where several highways meet: Either the wild beast is gone this way, or that, or that way; but not that way, nor that way, therefore this way: the force of sense affording nothing but the minor premise, but the force of reason affording the major proposition, and inferring the conclusion of the assumption. But a dog stands in no need of any such testimonial; in regard it is both false and adulterate. For sense itself shows which way the beast is fled, by his tracks and footsteps, bidding farewell to disjunctive and copulative propositions. The nature of dogs is palpably to be discerned by many other actions, affections, and dutiful service, neither the effects of hearing or seeing, but practicable only by reason and understanding. It would be ridiculous for me to discourse of the continence, obedience, and industry of dogs in hunting, to you that are so well confirmed in the knowledge of those things by daily experience and practice.

There was a Roman named Calvus, slain in the civil wars, whose head nobody durst cut off before they killed the dog that guarded his body and fought in defence of his master. It happened that King Pyrrhus, travelling one day, lit upon a dog watching over the carcass of a person slain; and hearing that the dog had been there three days without meat or drink, yet would not forsake his dead master, ordered that the man should be buried, but that the dog should be preserved and brought to him. A few days after, there was a muster of the soldiers, so that they were forced to march all in order by the king, with the dog quietly lying by him for a good while. But when he saw the murderers of his master pass by him, he flew upon them with a more than ordinary fury, barking and baying and tearing his throat, and ever and anon turning about to the king; which did not only rouse the king’s suspicion, but the jealousy of all that stood about him. Upon which the men were presently apprehended; and though the circumstances were very slight which otherwise appeared against them, yet they confessed the fact and were executed.

The same thing is reported to have been done by a dog that belonged to Hesiod, surnamed the wise, which discovered the sons of Ganyctor the Naupactian, by whom Hesiod was murdered. But that which came to the knowledge of our parents, when they were students at Athens, is yet more evident than any thing we have said. For a certain person getting into the temple of Aesculapius, after he had stolen all the massy offerings of gold and silver, made his escape, not believing he was discovered. But the dog which belonged to the temple, who was called Capparus, when he found that none of the sacristans took any notice of his barking, pursued himself the sacrilegious thief; and though at first the fellow pelted him with stones, he could not beat him off. So soon as it was day, the dog still followed him, though at such a distance that he always kept him in his eyes. When the fellow threw him meat he refused it; when the thief went to bed, the dog watched at his door; and when he rose in the morning, the dog still followed him, fawning upon the passengers on the road, but still barking and baying at the heels of the thief. These things when they who were in pursuit of the sacrilegious person heard, and were told withal by those they met the color and bigness of the dog, they were the more vigorous in the pursuit; and by that means overtaking the thief, brought him back from Crommyon, while the dog ran before, leaping and capering and full of joy, as it were challenging to himself the praise and reward of apprehending the temple-robber. And indeed the Athenians were so grateful to him, that they decreed him such a quantity of meat to be publicly measured to him, and ordered the priests to take care to see it done; in imitation of the kindness of the ancient Athenians in rewarding the mule.

For when Pericles built the temple Hecatompedon (or Parthenon) in the tower of Athens, it so fell out that the stones were to be fetched every day many furlongs off, and a world of carriages were made use of for that purpose. Among the rest of the mules that labored hard in this employment, there was one that, though dismissed by reason of age, would still go down to the Ceramicus, and meeting the carts that brought the stones, would be always in their company running by their sides, as it were by the way of encouragement and to excite them to work cheerfully. So that the people, admiring the zeal of the mule, ordered him to be fed at the public charge, as they were wont to decree public alms to the superannuated wrestlers.

14. And therefore they who deny that there is any thing of justice due from us towards dumb animals may be said to speak true, so far as concerns them that live in the sea and haunt the abysses of the deep. For those kind of creatures are altogether unsociable, without affection for their young ones, void of all softness of disposition; and therefore it was well said of Homer, speaking to a person whom he looked upon as a mere savage,

But as for thee, so little worth, The gleaming sea did bring thee forth;[83]

in regard the sea brings forth nothing friendly, nothing mansuete or gentle. But he that uses the same discourse and arguments against land animals is himself a brute and savage creature; unless any man will affirm that there was nothing of justice due from Lysimachus to the Hyrcanian dog, that would not stir from the body of his deceased master, and when he saw his master’s carcass burning, ran and threw himself into the flames. The same is reported to have been done by the dog Astus, that was kept by one Pyrrhus, not the king, but a private person of that name. For upon the death of his master, he would not stir from the body, but when it was carried forth, leaped upon the bier, and at length threw himself into the funeral pile, and was burnt alive with his master’s body.

The elephant also which carried King Porus, when the king was wounded in the battle against Alexander, pulled out several darts out of his wounds with his proboscis, with no less tenderness and care than the chirurgeon could have done; and though the elephant himself was but in a very bad condition, yet would he not give over till he perceived the king was ready to reel and sink down by reason of the blood which he had lost; and then fearing lest the king should fall, he stooped down gently, to ease the king in sliding to the ground.

Such was the humor of Bucephalus, who, before he was accoutred, would suffer his groom to back him, but when he had all his royal trappings and housings about him, would permit nobody but Alexander to bestride him. But if any other persons approached him in curiosity to try what they could do, he encountered them open-mouthed, and neighing out his fury, leaped upon their shoulders, bore them down, and trampled them under his feet, unless prevented by keeping at a distance or by speedy flight.

15. Nor am I ignorant but that there is something of variety in every one of these examples, which you must acknowledge. And indeed it is not easy to find out the natural dexterity of any one ingenious and docible animal, which is not accompanied with more than one single virtue. Thus, where there is affection toward their young ones, there is desire of praise. Where there is generosity, there is also moderation of anger. Cunning likewise and understanding are rarely parted from daring boldness and fortitude. But as for those that rather choose to divide and distinguish every one of these virtues particularly by themselves, they shall find in dogs a fair demonstration of a gentle and yet lofty mind at the same time, in turning away from such as sit quietly upon the ground; according to that of Homer,

With hideous noise the dogs upon him flew; But sly Ulysses, who the danger knew, Sate husht and still, and from his royal hand His sceptre dropt, as useless in command.[84]

For dogs never bite or worry those that prostrate themselves at their mercy and put on a face of humility. Thus they say the bravest of those Indian dogs that fought against Alexander never stirred or so much as looked about them upon the letting loose of a hart, a boar, and a bear; but when they saw a lion, then they began to rouse, to shake, and prepare themselves for the combat. By which it was plain that they thought only the lion an antagonist worthy of their courage, but despised all the rest as below their anger.

Your hounds that usually hunt hares, if they kill the hares themselves, take great delight in tearing them to pieces and lapping up the blood. But if the hare despairing of her life, as many times it happens, runs herself to death, the hounds finding her dead will never touch her, but stand wagging their tails, as if they did hunt not so much for the love of the food as for victory and triumph’s sake.

16. There are many examples of cunning and subtlety abounding in land creatures; but to omit slights and artifices of foxes, cranes, and jackdaws, of which I shall say nothing, because they are things already so well known, I shall make use of the testimony of Thales, the ancientest of our philosophers, who is reported to have chiefly admired the most excellent in any art or cunning.

A certain mule that was wont to carry salt, in fording a river, by accident happened to stumble, by which means the water melting away the salt, when the mule rose again he felt himself much lighter; the cause of which the mule was very sensible of, and laid it up in his memory, insomuch that every time he forded the same river, he would always stoop when he came into the deepest part, and fill his vessels with water, crouching down, and leaning sometimes to one side, sometimes to the other. Thales hearing this, ordered the vessels to be well filled with wool and sponges, and to drive the mule laden after that manner. But then the mule, as he was wont, filling his burthens with water, reasoned with himself that he had ill consulted his own benefit, and ever afterwards, when he forded the same river, was so careful and cautious, that he would never suffer his burthens so much as to touch the water by accident.

Another piece of cunning, joined with an extraordinary affection to their young ones, is to be observed in partridges, which instruct their young ones, ere they are able to fly, when they are pursued by the fowlers, to lay themselves upon their backs, their breasts covered with some clod of earth or little heap of dirt, under which they may lie concealed. On the other side, the old partridges do deceive the fowlers, and draw them quite a contrary way, make short flights from one place to another, thereby enticing the fowlers to follow them; till thus allured from their young ones, the fowlers give over all hopes of being masters of their game.

In like manner, hares returning to their forms dispose their leverets one to one place, another to another, at the distance many times of an acre of ground; so that, upon the tracing either of men or hounds, they are sure not to be all in danger at one time,—themselves in the mean time not easy to be tracked, by reason of the various windings and turnings which they make, until at length, by giving a large leap, they discontinue the print of their feet, and so betake themselves to their rest.

A bear, when she perceives her winter sleep coming upon her, before she grows stiff and unwieldy, cleanses the place where she intends to conceal herself, and in her passage thither lifts up her paws as high as she can, and treads upon the ground with the top of her toes, and at length turning herself upon her back, throws herself into her receptacle.

Your hinds generally calve at a distance from all places frequented by flesh-devouring beasts; and stags, when they find themselves unwieldy through surplusage of flesh and fat, get out of the way and hide themselves, hoping to secure themselves by lurking, when they dare not trust to their heels.

The means by which the land hedge-hogs defend and guard themselves occasioned the proverb,

Many sly tricks the subtle Reynard knows, But one the hedge-hog greater than all those

For the hedge-hog, as Ion the poet says,[85] when he spies the fox coming,

Round as a pine-nut, or more sphere-like ball, Lies with his body palisaded all With pointed thorns, which all the fox’s slight Can find no way to touch, much less to bite.

But the provision which the hedge-hogs make for their young ones is much more ingenious. For when autumn comes, they creep under vines, and shake off the grapes with their feet; which done they roll themselves up and down, and take them up with their prickles, so that when they creep away again, you would think it a walking cluster (and this we have looked on and seen them do); after which returning to their holes, they lay themselves down for their young ones to feed. Their holes have two openings, one to the south, the other to the north. So that when they perceive the alteration of the air, like pilots shifting their sails, they stop up that which lies to the wind and open the other. Which a certain person that lived at Cyzicus observing, took upon him from thence at any time to tell in what corner the wind would sit.

17. As for love and observance of society joined with understanding and prudence, Juba produces many examples of it in elephants. For it is the usual practice of the elephant-hunters to dig large pits in the elephants’ walks, and cover them slightly over with dry twigs or other materials; into which if any elephant happens to fall, the rest fetch wood and stones to fill up the cavity of the pit, that the other may the more easily get out again. And some report of the elephants, that they make prayers to the Gods by natural instinct, that they perform divine ceremonies to the sea, and worship the rising sun, lifting up the proboscis to heaven instead of hands. For which reason they are creatures the most beloved of any by the Gods, as Ptolemy Philopator testified. For having vanquished Antiochus, and being desirous to pay a more than ordinary honor to the Deity, among many other oblations of thanksgivings for his victory, he sacrificed four elephants. After which being terrified with a dream, which threatened him with the wrath of the Deity for that prodigious sacrifice, he sought out several ways to expiate his offence, and among the rest by way of propitiation, he erected four elephants of brass to atone for the four elephants he had slaughtered.

Examples not inferior of the observance of society are to be found among lions. For the younger carry forth the slow and aged, when they hunt abroad for their prey. When the old ones are weary and tired, they rest and stay for the younger that hunt on; who, when they have seized upon any thing, call to the old ones, making a noise like the bleating of a calf. They presently hear, and so meeting all together, they feed in common upon the prey.

18. In the amours of many animals there is much variety. Some are furious and mad; others observe a kind of human decency, and tricking of themselves to set off their beauty, not without a courtly kind of conversation. Such was the amour of the elephant at Alexandria, that rivalled Aristophanes the grammarian. For they were both in love with a girl that sold garlands; nor was the elephant’s courtship less conspicuous than the other’s. For as he passed through the fruit-market, he always brought her apples, and stayed with her for some time, and thrusting his proboscis within her waistcoat, instead of a hand, took great delight in gently feeling her breasts.

No less remarkable was the serpent in love with the Aetolian woman. He came to her in the night, and getting under her garments to her very skin, embraced her naked body; and never either willingly or unwillingly did he do her any harm, but always about break of day departed; which the kindred of the woman observing to be the common custom of the animal, removed her a great way off. After that, the serpent came not again for three or four days together, being all the while, as it seemed, wandering about in search of her. But at length, having with much ado found her out, he did not approach her with that mildness as he was wont to do, but after a rougher manner; with his folds having first bound her hands to her body, with the end of his tail he lashed the calves of her legs; expressing thereby a gentle and loving anger, which had more in it of indulgent expostulation than punishment.

I say nothing of a goose in Egypt in love with a boy, nor of the ram in love with Glauce who played on the harp; for the stories are in all people’s mouths. And besides, I am apt to think you are satiated with examples of this nature.

19. But as for starlings, magpies, and parrots, that learn to talk, and afford their teachers such a spirit of voice, so well tempered and so adapted for imitation, they seem to me to be patrons and advocates in behalf of other creatures, by their talent of learning what they are taught; and in some measure to teach us that those creatures also, as well as we, partake of vocal expression and articulate sound. From whence I conclude it a most ridiculous thing in them that would compare these creatures with a sort of mute animals, I mean the fish, that have not voice enough to howl or make a mournful noise. Whereas, in the natural and untaught notes of these creatures, what music, what a charming grace do we observe! To which the famous poets and choicest singers among men bear testimony, while they compare their sweetest odes and poems to the singing of swans and melody of nightingales. Now in regard there is more of reason in teaching than in learning, we are to believe Aristotle,[86] who assures us that terrestrial animals do that likewise, in regard that nightingales have been observed instructing their young ones to sing. Of which this may be a sufficient proof, that such nightingales are known to sing worse that are taken very young from the nest and deprived of the education of the old one. For they both learn and are taught from the old one, not for hire or to get reputation, but merely out of a delight in mixing their notes together, and because they have a greater love for that which is excellent and curious in the voice than for what is profitable. Concerning which I have a story to tell you, which I heard from several Greeks and Romans, who were eye-witnesses of the thing.

A certain barber in Rome, who had a shop right against the temple which is called the Greeks’ Market, bred in his house a kind of a prodigy of a magpie, whose tongue would be always going with the greatest variety imaginable, sometimes imitating human speech, sometimes chattering her wild notes, and sometimes humoring the sounds of wind instruments; neither was this by any constraint, but as she accustomed herself, with a more than ordinary ambition, to leave nothing unspoken, nothing that her imitation should not master.

It happened a certain person of the wealthier sort, newly dead in the neighborhood, was carried forth to be buried with a great number of trumpets before him. Now in regard it was the custom of the bearers to rest themselves before the barber’s shop, the trumpeters being excellent in their art, and withal commanded so to do, made a long stop, sounding all the while.

After that day the magpie was altogether mute, not so much as uttering her usual notes by which she called for what she wanted, insomuch that they who before admired as they passed to and fro at the chattering and prating of the bird now much more wondered at her sudden silence; and many suspected her to have been poisoned by some that affected peculiar skill in teaching this kind of birds. But the greatest number were of opinion, that the noise of the trumpets had stupefied her hearing, and that by the loss of her hearing the use of her voice was likewise extinguished. But her unusual silence proceeded from neither of these causes, but from her retiring to privacy, by herself to exercise the imitation of what she had heard, and to fit and prepare her voice as the instrument to express what she had learned. For soon after she came of a sudden to sight again, but had quitted all her former customary imitations, and sounded only the music of the trumpets, observing all the changes and cadences of the harmony, with such exactness of time as was not to be imagined; an argument, as I have said before, that the aptness in those creatures to learn of themselves is more rational than readiness to be taught by others. Nor do I think it proper to pass by in silence one wonderful example of the docility of a dog, of which I myself was a spectator at Rome. This dog belonged to a certain mimic, who at that time had the management of a farce wherein there was great variety of parts, which he undertook to instruct the actors to perform, with several imitations proper for the matters and passions therein represented. Among the rest there was one who was to drink a sleepy potion, and after he had drunk it, to fall into a deadly drowsiness and counterfeit the actions of a dying person. The dog, who had studied several of the other gestures and postures, more diligently observing this, took a piece of bread that was sopped in the potion, and after he had ate it, in a short time counterfeited a trembling, then a staggering, and afterwards a drowsiness in his head. Then stretching out himself, he lay as if he had been dead, and seemed to proffer himself to be dragged out of the place and carried to burial, as the plot of the play required. Afterwards understanding the time from what was said and acted, in the first place he began gently to stir, as it were waking out of a profound sleep, and lifting up his head, he gazed about him. Afterwards to the amazement of the beholders, he rose up, and went to his master to whom he belonged, with all the signs of gladness and fawning kindness, insomuch that all the spectators, and even Caesar himself (for old Vespasian was present in Marcellus’s theatre) were taken with the sight.

20. But perhaps we may seem ridiculous for signalizing beasts in this manner because they learn, since we find that Democritus affirms us to have been their scholars in the greatest matters;—of the spider, in weaving and repairing what we tear or wear out; of the swallow, in building houses; and of the mournful swan and nightingale, in singing and imitation. Moreover in others we observe a threefold practice of physic, both natural and inbred. For tortoises make use of marjoram and weasels eat rue, when they have devoured a serpent; and dogs purge themselves from abounding gall with a certain sort of grass. The dragon quickens the dimness of his sight with fennel; and the bear, coming forth of her cave after long emaciation, feeds upon the wild arum, for the acrimony of that herb opens and separates her guts when clung together. At other times, being overcloyed with food, she repairs to the emmet-hills, and thrusting forth her tongue all soft and unctuous, by reason of the sweet kind of slime that all besmears it, till it be crowded with emmets, at length swallows them down her throat, and so recovers. And it is reported that the Egyptians observe and imitate the bird called ibis, in purging and cleansing her bowels with the briny sea-water. For which reason the priests, when they hallow themselves, make use of the water of which the ibis has drunk; for that those birds will not drink the water, if it be medicinal or otherwise infected. Some beasts there are that cure themselves by abstinence; as wolves and lions, who, when they are gorged with flesh, lie still and digest their crudities by the warmth of one another’s bodies. It is reported also of the tiger, that if a kid be thrown to her, she will not eat in two days; but growing almost famished the third day, if she be not supplied with another, she will tear down the cage that holds her, if she have strength enough; yet all this while she will not meddle with the first kid, as being her companion and fellow-housekeeper.

More than this, the elephants are said to make use of chirurgery; for that being brought to persons wounded, they will draw forth the heads of spears and arrows out of their bodies with little pain, and without dilacerating and mangling the flesh.

The Cretan goats, which by eating dittany expel the arrows shot into their bodies, taught women with child to understand the virtue of that herb, so prevalent to expel the birth. For those goats being wounded seek no other cure, but presently seek out and hunt for dittany.

21. But these things, though wonderful, are not so much to be admired as are those beasts that understand the use of numbers and have the power of reckoning, like the oxen about Susa. For there are oxen in that place that water the king’s gardens with portable buckets, of which the number is fixed. For every ox carries a hundred buckets every day, and more you cannot force them to take or carry, would you never so fain; insomuch that, when constraint has been used for experiment’s sake, nothing could make them stir after they had carried their full number. Such an accurate account do they take, and preserve the same in their memory, as Ctesias the Cnidian relates it.

The Libyans deride the Egyptians for the fables which they report of the oryx, which, as they say, makes a great noise upon the same day, at the very hour, when the Dog-star, which they call Sothes, rises. However, this is certain, that all their goats, when that star rises truly with the sun, turn themselves and stand gazing toward the east; which is a most unquestionable argument of that star’s having finished its course, and agrees exactly with the astronomer’s observations.

22. But that my discourse may draw to a conclusion, let us (as the saying is) move the stone over the sacred line, and add something concerning the divinity and prophetic nature with which our terrestrial creatures are endued. Which when we consider, we shall find that that part of soothsaying which is founded upon the observation of birds is not the meanest or most ignoble, but very ancient and in great esteem. For the smartness and intelligible faculty of birds, together with their capability to receive all impressions of fancy, afford the Deity a convenience to make use of those faculties as instruments, that he may turn them into motion, sounds, chirpings, and forms, now to stop and stay, anon to drive forward like the winds; by means of some of these stopping short, by the means of others directing to their end, the actions and impetuous impulses of men. Therefore Euripides in general calls birds the criers of the Gods; and particularly Socrates styles himself a fellow-servant with the swans. As among princes, Pyrrhus was pleased with the surname of Eagle; and Antiochus loved to be called Antiochus the Falcon. But they who deride men as insipid and void of ingenuity call them by the names of fish. And whereas we can produce millions of things and accidents which are foretold us by land and flying creatures, there is not any one such example that the patrons of water-animals can produce in their behalf; but being all void of hearing, perfectly sottish, and without any sight, discerning, or providence, they are all thrown apart into that same place, unblest and hideous, called the sea, as it were into the region of the ungodly, where the rational and intellectual part of the soul is extinguished; being animated with only some diminutive portion, the lowest that may be imagined, of a confused and overwhelmed sense, so that they rather seem to palpitate than breathe.

23. HERACLEO. Pluck up your brows then, friend Phaedimus; after all this, it is time to rouse thyself in the defence of the islanders, and others that live by the seaside. For this has been no frivolous discourse, but a hard fought contest, and a continued piece of rhetoric that wanted only lattices and a pulpit to give it the honor it deserved.

PHAEDIMUS. Therefore, you see, it is plain here has been foul play and treachery in the case, for a person sober and upon premeditation to set upon us when we were stomach-sick and dozed with our last night’s compotation. But there is no way to avoid the combat; for that, being an imitator of Pindar, it shall never be said of me.

Combats refused, when nobly set upon, Have virtue into deepest darkness thrown.

For we have leisure enough, as having not only allowed ourselves a vacation from jollity and balls, but our hounds and horses a relaxation from their labors, and withal having hung up our drag-nets and spears, as having also this day granted, for disputation’s sake, a general truce to all creatures, as well upon the land as in the sea. However, fear not; for I will use it moderately, without producing either the opinions of philosophers or the fables of the Egyptians, or the relations either of the Indians or Libyans, wanting testimony; but such as shall be verified by good witnesses, who have made it their business to toil upon the ocean, and such as are evident to the eye. For to say truth, there is not any one of those examples produced from the land which is not apparent and openly manifested to our sense. Whereas the sea affords few but such as are difficult to be discerned, as concealing the generation and nourishment of most of her creatures, their antipathies, and ways of preserving themselves; in reference to which many acts of understanding, memory, and community are unknown to us, so that we cannot be so copious in our discourse. Then again, land animals, by reason of their familiarity and cohabitation, being in some measure accustomed to the conditions of men, become capable of their nutriture, education, and imitation; which sweetens and allays all their acerbity and moroseness, like the mixture of fresh water with sea brine, and awakening that which is slow and disordered in them, inflames it with human motions. Whereas the living of sea animals being by many degrees remote from the converse of men, and having nothing adventitious or that may be said to be acquired by custom and familiarity, is altogether peculiar, genuine, and unmixed with manners strange and foreign to them; which proceeds not from Nature, but from the place itself. For Nature, receiving and cherishing whatever knowledge comes to herself, affords it also to fish, and makes many eels tame and familiar to men, which for that reason are called sacred, like those in the fountain Arethusa; so that in many places there are fish that will hear and obey when called by their names, as the story goes of Crassus’s mullet, upon the death of which he wept. For which when Domitius twitted him in these words, Did not you weep when your mullet died?—he retorted upon him again, Did you not bury three wives and never weep at all? The crocodiles belonging to the priests not only know the voices of those that call them, and suffer themselves to be stroked and handled, but gaping hold out their teeth to be cleansed and wiped by the hands of the priests.

Lately Philinus, after he had been long travelling in Egypt, returning to us, told us how he saw, in the city which derives its name from Anteus, an old woman sleeping by the side of a crocodile, upon a low soft bed well and decently dressed up.

In ancient histories we find that when King Ptolemy called the sacred crocodile, and when the crocodile neither vouchsafed to appear at his call nor would answer to the earnest expostulations of the priests, it was looked upon as a prognostication of the death of the king, which happened soon after. Which shows that the race of water-animals is neither without a share of that inestimable thing called prophetic signification, nor undeserving those honors ascribed to land creatures. For that about Sura, which is a village in Lycia between Phellus and Myra, I have heard it credibly reported, that there are certain persons who make it their business to watch the turns, flights, and pursuits of the fish, whence, by a certain art which they have, they gather predictions, as others from the observation of birds.

24. But let these examples suffice to show, that fish are not altogether strangers to mankind, nor altogether void of human affection. But for a great and common demonstration of their unmixed and natural understanding, we find that there is not any fish that swims, unless they be such as stick and cling to the rocks, which is so easily taken by men, as asses are seized by wolves, bees by bee-eaters, grasshoppers by swallows, serpents by harts. And these last are therefore called ἔλαφοι, not from their swiftness (ἐλαφρότης), but from a faculty which they have of drawing serpents to them (ἕλκειν ὄφεις). So sheep call the wolf by the sound of their feet, and the panther allures to her paws both apes and other creatures by the fragrant smell of her body. But so suspicious is the sense of all water animals, and so watchful are they to avoid all baits and treacheries against them, by reason of their extraordinary cunning, that fishing thereby becomes no easy or single labor, but a toil that requires various instruments and many tricks of human cunning and deceit. This is apparent from examples near at hand. For no man desires an angling-rod too thick, though strong enough to hold against the twitches of the fish when taken; but rather they require it slender, lest by casting too great a shadow upon the water, it should frighten the suspicious creature. In the next place, they never knit too many knots in the line, but make it as smooth as may be, for that would too much discover the deceit; and then for the hairs which are next the hook, they endeavor to get the whitest they can meet with; for so, by reason of the likeness of color, they lie the more easily concealed in the water. Therefore some there are who, wrongly expounding the following verses of Homer,[87]

She to the bottom quickly sinks, like lead, Which fixt to horn[88] of rustic ox descends, And brings destruction to the greedy fish,

believe that the ancients made use of ox-hair for their lines with which they angled, alleging that κέρας then signified hair,—from whence κείρασθαι, to be shaved, and κουρά, shaving,—and that κεροπλάστης in Archilochus signified one who takes delight in trimming and decking the hair. But this is an error. For they made use of horse-hair, more especially that of male horses. For mares, by moistening their tails with their urine, render the hair weak and brittle. Though Aristotle will not allow any thing to be said in all this that requires such extraordinary subtlety. Only he says, that the lower piece of the line was fortified with a little hollow piece of horn, lest the fish should come at the line itself and bite it off; moreover, that they made use of round hooks to catch mullets and tunnies, in regard they had but small mouths, for that they were afraid of a straight hook. He also further says, that the mullet many times suspecting the round hook, will swim round about it, flapping the bait with his tail, and then turning round, secures to himself so much as he has broken off. Or if he cannot do that, he shuts his mouth close; and with the extremities of his lips nibbles off some part of the bait.

The fish called labrax behaves himself more stoutly than the elephant; for when he perceives himself struck with the hook, without assistance he sets himself at liberty, widening the wound by flinging his head to and fro, and enduring the painful twingings of the hook, till he have freed himself from it with the loss of his flesh. The sea fox (or the fish called alopex) seldom bites, but avoids the deceit; but if he chance to be taken, he presently turns the inside of his body outward. For by reason of the strength and moisture of his body, he has a peculiar faculty to turn it so that, the inside coming to be outermost, the hook falls off. These things demonstrate understanding, and a subtle and extraordinary use of it in the nick and juncture of time.

25. Other examples there are which show not only this same understanding and knowledge, but the community and mutual affection of fish. Thus, if one scate happen to swallow the hook, all the rest of the scates that are in the same shoal presently crowd together and bite the line in pieces. The same scates, if any of their companions fall into the net, give the prisoners their tails to take hold of with their teeth, and so draw them forth by main force.

But the fish called anthiae with far more courage assist their fellows in distress. For getting under the line with their backs, and setting up their fins, with these, as with sharp saws, they endeavor to cut it in two.

Now we know no land animal that will assist and defend his kind in danger; neither the bear, nor the wild boar, nor the lion, nor the panther. True it is that, when they are in herds together, they will gather into a circle and defend each other in common; but no single land animal either knows or cares to assist a single companion, but flies and shifts for himself as far off as he can from the beast that is wounded and lies a dying. For as for that old story of elephants filling up the ditches with heaps of adjoining materials, whether wood or earth, for the unfortunate elephant the more easily to get up again, this, my good friend, is extremely uncouth and foreign to us, as if we were bound to believe Juba’s books by virtue of a royal edict. However, if it is true, it does but serve to show that many of the marine creatures are nothing inferior in understanding and community to the most intelligent of the land animals. But as for their mutual society, we shall discourse apart of that by itself.

26. Now the fishermen, observing how that most fish avoided the casts of their hooks by cunning or by striving with the tackling, betook themselves to force,—as the Persians use to serve their enemies in their wars,[89]—making use of nets, that there might be no escape for those that were caught either by the help of reason or subtlety. Thus mullets and the fish called julides are taken with sweep-nets and drag-nets, as are also several other sorts of fish called mormuri, sargi, gobii, and labraces; those that are called casting-nets catch the mullet, the gilthead, and the scorpion fish; and therefore Homer calls this sort of net πανάγρα, or the all-sweeper.[90] And yet there are some fish that are too cunning for these nets. Thus the labrax, perceiving the drawing of the sweep-net, with the force of his body beats a hollow place in the mud, where he lays himself close till the net be gone over him. But as for the dolphin, when he finds himself taken and in the midst of the net, he remains there without being in the least perplexed, but falls to with a great deal of joy, and feasts upon the numerous fry within the meshes; but so soon as he comes near the shore, he bites his way through the net with his teeth and swims away. Or if he chance to be taken, the fishermen do him no other harm the first time, but only sew a sort of large bulrush to the finny crown upon his head, and so let him go. If they take him a second time, they punish him with stripes, well knowing him again by the prints of the needle. But that rarely happens. For having got pardon the first time, for the most part of them, they acknowledge the favor, and abstain from spoil for the future.

Moreover, among the many examples that make evident the wariness of fish in avoiding the deceits and craft of the fishermen, it would not be convenient to pass by that of the cuttle-fish. For this fish, carrying near his neck a certain black and inky sort of liquor, so soon as he perceives himself discovered, throws that liquor forth, and darkens all the water round about him in such a manner that, the fisherman losing sight of him, by that means he makes his escape; imitating therein Homer’s Deities, who, when they had a mind to save any of their heroes, hid them in an azure cloud. But of this enough.

27. Now for the extraordinary subtlety of fish in hunting and catching their own prey, we shall meet with several examples of it in several fish. Particularly the star-fish, understanding his own nature to be such that whatever he touches dissolves and liquefies, readily offers his body, and permits himself to be touched by all that come near him.

You know yourself the property of the torpedo or crampfish, which not only benumbs all those that touch it, but also strikes a numbness through the very net into the hands of them that go about to take him. And some that have had greater experience of this fish report that, if it happen to fall alive upon the land, they that pour water upon it shall presently perceive a numbness seizing upon their hands and stupefying their feeling, through the water affected with the quality of the fish. And therefore, having an innate sense of this faculty, it never makes any resistance against any thing, nor ever is it in danger. Only swimming circularly about his prey, he shoots forth the effluviums of his nature like so many darts, and first infects the water, then the fish through the water, which is neither able to defend itself nor to escape, being (as it were) held in chains and frozen up.

The fish called the fisherman is well known to many, who has his name given him from his manner of catching fish; whose art, as Aristotle writes, the cuttle-fish makes use of, for he lets down, like a line, a certain curl which Nature has given him, so ordered as to let it run out at length or draw it to him again, as he sees occasion. This, when he sees any of the lesser fish approach, he offers them to bite, and then by degrees pulls the curl nearer and nearer by virtue of the bait, till he has drawn his prey within the reach of his mouth. And as for the polypus’s changing his color, Pindar has made it famous in these words:

In any city may that man expose His safety, who well knows Like sea-bred polypus to range, And vary color upon every change.

In like manner Theognis:

Change manners with thy friends, observing thus The many-colored, cunning polypus; Who let him stick to whatsoever rock, Of the same color does his body look.[91]

It is true the chameleon changes color, not out of any design or to conceal himself, but out of fear, being naturally timorous and trembling at every noise he hears. And this is occasioned by the extraordinary abundance of breath which he enjoys, as Theophrastus affirms. For the whole body of this creature wants but little of being nothing else but lungs; which demonstrates him to be full of spirits, and consequently apt to change. But this same change of the polypus is no product of any affection of the mind, but a kind of action. For he changes on purpose, making use of this artifice to escape what he fears, and to get the food which he lives by. For by fraud, those things that he will take never avoid him, and those things he will escape pass him by without taking any notice of him. For that he devours his own claws is an untruth, but that he is afraid of the lamprey and conger is certain; for by these he is ill treated, not being able to return them any injury, by reason of their being so slippery. Though on the other side the crawfish, having once got them within his claws, holds them with ease. For slenderness affords no help against roughness; but when the polypus comes to thrust his horns into the body of the crawfish, then also the crawfish dies. And this same vicissitude of avoiding and pursuing one another has Nature infused into them on purpose to exercise their subtlety and understanding.

28. Then again we have heard Aristotimus relating how the land hedge-hog had a perception of the rising of the wind, and praising the trigonal flight of cranes. But for my part, I produce no particular hedge-hog of Cyzicus or Byzantium, but all the sea hedge-hogs in general; who, when they perceive a storm coming, ballast themselves with little stones, lest they should be overturned by reason of their lightness or carried away by the rolling of the waves, which they prevent by the weight of their little stones.

On the other side, the cranes’ order in their flight against the wind is not of one sort. But this is a general notion among all fish, that they always swim against the waves and the tide, and always take care lest the wind being in their tails should force their fins from their backs, and leave their naked bodies exposed to the cold and other inconveniences; and therefore they still oppose the prows of their bodies against the waves. For that while they thus cleave the waves at the top, the sea keeps their fins close, and lightly flowing over the superficies of their bodies, becomes less burdensome, besides that it suffers not their scales to rise.

This, I say, is common to all fish, except that fish which is called ellops; which, as they report, always swims with the wind and tide, not minding the erection or opening of the scales, which do not lie towards the tail, as in other fish.

29. Moreover, the tunny is so sensible of the equinoxes and solstices, that he teaches even men themselves without the help of any astrological table. For where the winter solstice overtakes him, there he remains till the vernal equinox.

As for that same artifice of the cranes, that keep themselves waking by clutching a stone in their claws, how much more cunningly done is that of the dolphin, for whom it is not lawful to stand still or to be out of motion. For it is the nature of the dolphins to be always in motion; so that, when they cease to move, they also cease to live. And therefore when sleep seizes them, they raise their bodies to the superficies of the sea, and so sinking down again with their bellies upward, are carried along with the tide till they touch again the shore. Wakened in that manner, with an impetuous noise they mount upward again, designing thus a kind of rest still intermixed with motion. And the same thing is reported of the tunnies for the same reason.

Having thus concluded their mathematical foreknowledge of the mutations of the sun, of which Aristotle gives testimony, let me now relate their skill in arithmetic; but first of all, their knowledge in optics, of which Aeschylus seems not to have been altogether ignorant. For these are his words:

Casting a squint-eye like the tunny.

For tunnies seem to be dim-sighted of one eye. And therefore, when they enter the Euxine Sea, they coast along the land on the right side, and contrariwise when they come forth; prudently committing the care of their bodies to the best eye.

But wanting arithmetic in order to the preservation of mutual love and society one with another, they arrive in such a manner to the perfection of that science, that, in regard they are extremely desirous to enjoy the society of each other, they always make up their whole fry into the form of a cube, and make a solid of the whole number consisting of six equal planes; and then they swim in such order as to present an equal front in each direction. So then, if the observer of the tunnies does but exactly take the number of the side that he sees, he knows the whole number of the shoal; well knowing that the depth is equal to the breadth and length.